Gremlins In The Library

, , , , , , | Right | August 10, 2018

(I work the night shift at a large university library that is open 24 hours. There are only three staff members, me included, working this shift, and the library is fairly empty. In order to get into the library in the middle of the night, students have to swipe their student cards to activate the outer doors, and then are required to physically show the card to a staff member as they enter. We take turns checking cards at the door throughout the night, and it is currently my turn to do it. I’ve been sitting at the security podium by the door for about three hours already; it is required that someone remain at the door constantly in order to make sure that no non-students enter the library. As I glance up from the book I’ve been reading, I suddenly notice a small, white dog dart between two study rooms on the opposite side of the floor. Not sure at first if I’ve hallucinated it, I finally decide to radio my coworker.)

Coworker: “Is there a problem?”

Me: “Yeah… Um, you’re not going to believe this… but I think there’s a dog loose in the library.”

Coworker: *after a pause* “You let a dog into the library?”

Me: “No! Nobody’s come through the front doors in at least two hours, and I didn’t see anybody come in with a dog. I don’t know how it got in.”

(Another coworker, who has been listening in on the radio, decides to pipe in:)

Coworker #2: “You let a dog into the library?”

Me: “No! I don’t know how it got in!”

Coworker #1: “Where is it now?”

Me: “I think it’s in Study Room B.”

Coworker #2: “I’ll go check it out.”

Coworker #1: “All right. Radio back when you know what’s going on.”

(The coworker arrives a few minutes later and walks into the study room where I saw the dog enter. I hear her shout something unintelligible, and then her voice comes back on the radio)

Coworker #2: “It s*** all over the place!”

Coworker #1: *on the radio* “The dog did?”

Coworker #2: “Of course it was the dog!”

Me: “We hope it was the dog…”

Coworker #1: “All right, I’m coming down. Where is the dog now?”

Coworker #2: “Not in Study Room B. But he’s been here. He left his mark.”

Me: “I haven’t seen him come back this way, either.”

(My coworkers lock up Study Room B to be cleaned, and then do a sweep of the floor. They can’t find the dog, but they do find more of its feces scattered around the library, mostly in study rooms. Finally, they radio back to me.)

Coworker #1: “You’re sure this is a dog?”

Me: “You think a person is doing this?”

Coworker #1: “I guess not. It’s just…”

(He pauses.)

Me: “Just what?”

Coworker #2: “There’s a lot of s***, [My Name]. So much s***. It’s everywhere. This dog knows what he’s doing.”

(I try not to laugh as my coworkers frantically continue their search. Just as I’m about to radio in for an update, a white blur passes in my periphery, and I turn to see the dog darting beneath the wide central staircase, which is just a few yards from my post by the door.)

Me: *radioing* “Guys! He just went under the stairs! Do you want me to go try to grab him?”

Coworker #1: “No! Stay by the door. You need to watch for students. Just stay where you are; we’re coming to you!”

(They both come bolting down the stairs, and as they turn to duck under the steps to look for the dog, the dog darts back out the other side and goes running for an open study room opposite the stairs.)

Coworker #2: “No! Not in there! That’s one of the only rooms he hasn’t gotten yet!”

(I get up from my post to help give chase, but as [Coworker #1] passes me, he motions for me to sit back down. Begrudgingly, I obey. They chase the dog into the empty study room… and then back out again. They chase him around the floor for several minutes before the dog hops up the stairs and heads to the second floor. My coworkers frantically follow.)

Coworker #2: *on the radio again* “[My Name], watch the stairs. If he comes back your way, you ditch the doors and grab him. It’s time we put an end to this.”

(I suddenly hear someone shouting from the second floor. Concerned, I radio in to ask if everything is okay.)

Coworker #2: “The dog just blasted feces all over the Help Desk. I think there’s something wrong with this dog!”

(At that moment, I see a student swipe his card at the outer doors and enter the library. He walks up to me and shows me his card, as usual, then looks around.)

Student: “Hey, have you seen a little white dog in here?”

Me: “Yes! We’ve been trying to catch him for an hour. Is he yours?”

Student: “Yeah, I dropped him off.”

Me: “You… what?”

Student: “I said I dropped him off. Is he ready to leave?”

(I’m too dumbfounded for a moment to answer, and the student then turns to face the library and begins shouting.)

Student: “Gizmo! Gizmo, c’mere! C’mere, boy!”

(To my astonishment, the dog casually appears at the top of the stairs and makes his way down toward his owner. My coworkers follow, running at first, until they see that the dog is being beckoned by his owner. They slowly head toward us, visibly distraught by the entire experience, as the owner picks up his dog.)

Student: “Hey, Gizmo! Time to go!”

Coworker #1: “Hey, wait a minute!”

Student: “Oh, yeah? What’s up?”

Coworker #1: “That’s your dog?”

Student: “Yes.”

Coworker #1: “You can’t bring a dog into the library.”

Student: “I didn’t. I dropped him off.”

Coworker #1: “Well, he caused a huge disruption and damaged several of our study rooms. We’ve had to close them and they’ll need to be hosed down.”

Student: “I’m sorry. I didn’t think he’d be a problem.”

Coworker #2: “Well, he was! He defecated all over the library.”

Student: “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. But what do you want me to do?”

([Coworker #1], not quite sure how to handle this situation, ultimately decides to take the student’s information in case he may be asked to help pay for the cleaning that will be required. Still seemingly oblivious to the huge disruption that’s been caused by him and his dog, the student leaves, and my coworkers and I stand back for a moment to collect ourselves.)

Coworker #2: “Well, that was different.”

Coworker #1: “What is wrong with people? Did he think this was a doggy daycare or something?”

Me: “Honestly, I’m more concerned about what was wrong with that dog.”

Coworker #2: “Maybe he fed it after midnight.”

Unfiltered Story #117825

, , | Unfiltered | August 4, 2018

I am the second highest manager at torrid and one of the things we sell are socks. They are specialty sock with popular characters and come in a five pack. They are hung by this plastic tab and you have to cut it off. If you pull it through it will tear through the first pair. We warn everyone about this and usually don’t have any problems until this lady come up.

Me: welcome to torrid how are you today?

Customer: throws one pair of ripped socks on the counter. Very angrily I NEED TO GET MY MONEY BACK THIS IS RIPPED AND THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE! WHY WOULD YOU SELL SUCH SHITTY PRODUCT? I NEED YOUR MANAGER RIGHT NOW!

Me: taken back she’s already yelling but calmly. well I am the full time assistant manager, and I would be happy to help you. How can I help you?

Customer: OH MY FUCKING GOD DID YOU NOT HEAR ME? I NEED MY MONEY BACK RIGHT NOW!

Me:annoyed and mildy scared she is yelling at me but still calmly. Unfortunately I need the rest of the socks in order to do that. We would also need a receipt when you came in with the rest of them. If you bring all of that in I would happily do that for you! Sorry about that. Sometimes if you don’t cut the plastic it breaks some of the threads. Is there anything else I can help you with?

customer: NOBODY EVER TOLD ME ABOUT THE PLASTIC! HOW COULD I HAVE KNOW THAT? SO NOW I AM BEING PUNISHED FOR NOT KNOWING THAT? THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS!

Me: it’s ok! You will know for next time when you bring in the rest of the socks and we exchange them out for you.

Customer: SO WHAT YOURE SAYING IS I CANT GET MY MONEY BACK? FINE TAKE THESE. Throws socks on ground and starts walking over to socks FINE THEN. IM GOING TO TAKE A NEW PACK

me: starting to get angry and fed up with her attitude. I can’t let you do that. I need all of the socks in order to do an exchange. And I want you to take your socks and get out of my store. I will not have anyone here do any kind of return for you.

Customer: even angrier then before WHAT ARE YOU SAYING? I BOUGHT THESE SOCKS AND THEY WERE BROKEN AND NOW I AM STUCK WITH THEM FOREVER? I HAVE NEVER BEEN TREATED LIKE THIS BEFORE AND I WILL MAKE SURE TO GET YOU FIRED FOR BEING SO RUDE. I WILL HAVE YOUR JOB!

Me: yelling back because I can’t take her screaming anymore YOU CAME IN HERE HOSTILE LOOKING FOR FIGHT OVER A PAIR OF SOCKS! YOU HAVE DONE NOTHING BUT SCREAM AG ME SINCE YOUVE BEEN HERE AND DISTURBED ALL OF THE OTHER GUESTS IN HERE! I KNOW YOU DIDNT LISTEN TO US WHEN WE TOLD YOU TO CUT THE PLASTIC AND NOW YOU ARE MAKING ME STOOP TO YOUR LEVEL OVER A PAIR OF SOCKS. This is absolutely rediculous and you need to leave my store before I call security and have you removed.

Customer: about to say something

Me: I don’t care! You can have my job. I deal with people like you all day! Get out!

Customer: looks kind of shocked and starts walking out

Other manager: comes out of the fitting rooms Whoa that was awesome! Remind me to never piss you off!

Me: laughs get back to work!

I never got in trouble for it and my other manager loves to tell this story

Inbox Goes Outbox

, , , , , | Working | July 22, 2018

(I work for a third-party IT company, contracting as an onsite tech for a client. I’ve been frustrated with the job for a while and have finally found a new one. I’ve given notice to my boss, who has let the client know, and their HR person has put the notice in one of their weekly email updates. This situation proves that no one actually reads their emails. This is my last Thursday at the job. The next day, Friday, is my last day.)

Coworker #1: *is having some issues that require a lot of updates to be run* “Can you fix this next week? I’m leaving soon and won’t be back until Monday.”

Me: “I can put a note in your ticket and have one of the other techs check back with you, but tomorrow is my last day.”

Coworker #1: “What?! That’s not possible!”

Coworker #2: “Yeah, it is. The email went out like a week and a half ago.”

Coworker #1: *looking between [Coworker #2] and me* “Why?”

Me: “Um, I got a new job?”

Coworker #1: “But who will I go to for help?”

(While this client does pay for onsite support, they’re not supposed to come directly to our desks for their initial help. Because of the contract, we have to track everything, so unless their machine is literally on fire, they’re supposed to submit a ticket. However, most of them basically refuse to do that for some reason. And we’re not allowed to tell them to go submit a ticket when they’re in our faces; we can do it if they email or instant-message us directly.)

Me: “Well, whoever might be sitting in the IT space. Or, you could submit a ticket.”

Coworker #1: “Oh. Well, you should have told me you were leaving!”

Coworker #2: *makes eye contact and rolls her eyes*

A Picture Perfect Response

, , , , , | Right | July 7, 2018

(I need some minor, routine maintenance done on my DSLR camera, so I take it to a camera store near me. This store sells nothing but cameras and camera-related equipment, and is very clearly advertised as such.)

Employee: “Hi! How can I help you?”

Me: “Hi, do you do cleaning or maintenance here?”

Employee: “Before I answer that… You are talking about cameras, right?”

Me: “Yes. Yes, I am.”

(I can only imagine the kind of stupidity that made that question necessary.)

You Can Get The Sick Bucket

, , , , , | Working | June 21, 2018

(My mother and I are the customers in this story. I am twenty at the time and am undergoing extensive treatment for my second battle in a year with stage-three cancer. We are walking through Pike Place Market. It’s not a terribly busy day. The market isn’t crowded, which is good, considering the treatment I am having makes my immune system even worse than usual. I am constantly in pain as a result of recent surgeries, and the three-times-daily abdomen injections I have to give myself, but I just needed to get out. I have a surgical-style mask on to try and prevent getting sicker. I hate having to stop and rest, but it is inevitable; however, we can’t find a place. So, we walk, and walk, and walk. My blood sugar is dropping dangerously low. I’m getting dizzy and overheated, ready to pass out. We come across this Chinese restaurant that has maybe five tables in it, and only one of them is taken. I go in and sit down as my mother buys two of their BBQ sticks for a homeless man sitting outside the shop. She comes in and then tries to get us two bottles of water. The woman behind the counter says in broken English:)

Employee: “If you aren’t going to eat, you need to leave.”

Mother: *looks at her like she must be joking* “I’m getting water right now, and I just bought food for that man. My daughter needs to sit for a minute.”

(The restaurant is super small so I know the one occupied table is watching.)

Employee: “No food, no seat. We need the tables for paying customers.”

(My mom turns around and looks at the pretty much empty restaurant.)

Mother: “There is no one here. And I am a paying customer. My daughter is sick! She can’t sit for two minutes?!”

(I look like a heavy gust of wind away from death. Eyes sunken, skin pale and ashy, no hair or eyebrows, AND my Hickman implant is clearly visible. I am very obviously on death’s doormat.)

Employee: “Well, I can put a bucket outside for her to sit on.”

(You could have heard a pin drop. I couldn’t see my mom’s face, but I saw her go still as stone. The people at the table next to me didn’t seem to believe it, either. We didn’t spend enough money in the employee’s eyes, so she said I could sit on a bucket outside the restaurant. My mom told me to wait for her by the curb. She knew my anxiety couldn’t handle any more, so I left and didn’t hear the fire and brimstone my mother probably brought down upon the woman. My mom won’t tell me what she said. But the irony is we were going to eat there. I just needed to rest and get some water in me first so I didn’t faint.)


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