The Father Of All Fan-Baiting

, , , , , , | Friendly | November 27, 2017

(In college, my dad worked with the football team but didn’t play. However, he and his coworkers were able to get official jerseys, so long as they didn’t use numbers any of the players had. Shortly after Dad graduated, the number Dad happened to pick was used by a player who was very good and went on to play in the NFL. About thirty years after that, my teenage brother is attending a game at the same college and wears Dad’s jersey to show support for the team. It’s important to note that the famous player is black and my family is white.)

Older Fan: *to my brother* “Hey, kid, do you even know whose number that is on your jersey?”

Brother: *knowing full well who the famous player is, but not wanting to be baited into arguing about who’s the better fan* “Yeah, it’s my dad’s.”

Older Fan: *taken aback* “[Famous Black Player] is your dad?!”

(My brother just kept walking, leaving the confused fan behind.)

What Would You Do?

, , , , , , | Right | November 23, 2017

(A lady comes in with an external hard drive.)

Customer: “I backed up some pictures to this, but deleted them to make room. I need to get those pictures.”

Me: “Okay, well, let’s see if we can recover them. Do you know what folder the pictures would have been in?”

Customer: “What folder would I have put them in?”

Me: “Um… Often people make a folder called ‘Pictures,’ but they could have been anywhere.”

Customer: “Well, can you just give me step-by-step instructions on where and how to find them, and then I can look?”

Me: “Well, no. I don’t know where they are. That is what I am trying to figure out.”

Customer: “Well, my son put them on there and then deleted them to make room.”

Me: “Do you know when he deleted them? That would really help.”

Customer: “I don’t remember. When would he have deleted them?”

Me: “I really couldn’t say.”

(The conversation just kept going in circles, so I eventually looked at every recoverable file before I found what I was looking for.)

The Age-Old Question

, , , , , | Working | November 7, 2017

(I am a 25-year-old married woman, but most of the time I get mistaken for much younger, and by this point it’s extremely irritating for me. Even though people dress casually at my office, I always try to dress a little more professionally, in the hopes that people will take me more seriously as an adult. However, it has been unusually cold this winter, so I’ve been wearing my super-puffy, bright purple winter jacket over my professional clothes, with some interesting results. These conversations happen with two different taxi drivers on two consecutive days.)

Me: *getting into the car* “Good morning. Thanks for coming to pick me up.”

Driver #1: *looking awkward* “Oh, um, before we get going… Are you 18? I can’t drive you if you’re under 18.”

Me: *out loud* “Actually I’m 25.” *thinking to myself* “Okay, I guess he was just trying to follow the rules. I really hope he just apologizes and talks about something else before this gets even more awkward.”

Driver #1: “Wow, sorry.”

Me: *thinking to myself* “Yes, finally a person who doesn’t put their foot in their mouth about my age!”

Driver #1: “It’s just that you look sooooooooo young!”

Me: *thinking to myself* “Really? Come on, guy. It’s not too late to save it!”

Driver #1: “I mean, I really thought you were 16 or something. Recently this Lyft driver got in big trouble for driving two 16-year-olds and getting into an accident, and the insurance wouldn’t pay because they were underage, so I just thought, you know, I should be careful…”

Me: *thinking to myself* “Why did you think telling me this would make things better? You just made me feel really uncomfortable about my age, and about the fact that you are apparently worried we might crash.” *out loud* “Well, we are going for a pretty short drive today, so hopefully everything will be nice and safe!”

(Fortunately we arrive at my destination safely. Then, the next day, with a different driver…)

Driver #2: *making small-talk* “So, I hear that [Town in the mountains] is really nice this time of year.”

Me: “Yeah, definitely! My husband and I are planning to visit there next month with some friends—”

Driver #2: “Wait, you have a husband!? But you’re so young! How old are you?”

Me: *burning with embarrassment* “I’m 25, and I’ve been married for three years.”

Driver #2: “Oh, wow. I definitely assumed you were in high school. I can’t believe it! You’re married! Haha!”

Me: *wondering to myself* “What happened to the rule about not driving anyone under 18?” *out loud* “Well, I guess it’s just best not to make assumptions.”

(While these conversations were kind of funny in retrospect, the bottom line is this: unless your job requires you to make sure customers are of a certain age, please don’t comment on how old they look. It’s just as uncomfortable as being judged for other aspects of your appearance.)

Nothing Civil About This War

, , , , , , , | Working | November 6, 2017

(My partner and I have been waiting for months to see “Captain America: Civil War,” and going to the movies is a very special occasion for us due to finances. We decide on a theater located on the top floor of a rather nice mall that is surrounded by a food court, since prices are fair and the location is close. We pay and take our seats in the front, and not too long after the previews start someone sits directly behind us and begins noisily eating out of a paper bag. My partner turns and informs me they are eating a burger out of a paper bag and I figure they will be done soon. Except, they have an entire large backpack FULL of burgers, and they proceed to eat them as noisily as possible all the way through the credits and half an hour into the movie itself! My partner confirms that they are eating burger after burger like their backpack is a dispenser, and the paper on each burger is crinkled so loudly and purposely that I cannot hear most of the dialogue. I’m talking continuous and endless loud crinkling, like an Internet troll decided to come to the movies. Fed up, I decide to do what I never do and complain. This theater is two stories, and to get to the desk I have to go down an escalator and across the lobby. When I get to the concessions desk, a very nice guy calls a manager when I explain the problem, and whispers quickly that he had the same issue a week ago and not to expect any real help. A female manager arrives and I explain to her my issue. She looks incredibly bored.)

Manager: “What do you want me to do about it?”

Me: “You have a no outside food and drink policy.”

Manager: “Yeah, but it’s not like we can enforce it; we’re right next to the food court.”

Me: “So, what am I supposed to do? I can’t hear, and have missed a big part of the movie.”

Manager: *sighs* “I can come up behind you and talk to them, but that is really it.”

Me: “That’s fine.”

(I went back upstairs and into my theater, where the guy was STILL eating noisy, paper-wrapped burgers and continued to do so for an additional twenty minutes. I could hear everything behind me and looked back several times, and the manager never came into the theater, at all. When we left after the credits, we counted over a dozen burger wrappers thrown all over the aisle behind us. I was upset that nothing was done and that the manager lied and never came to check, so I decided to write a formal online complaint on the company website. Apparently those complaints go directly to the managers, and the manager I talked to decided to answer and state that I was making too big of a deal out of this. Then she lied and said she did come to the theater, and that their was no evidence after the show of outside food or drink. Then she offered me free passes to shut me up! I was pretty upset that my complaint got brushed aside twice by the same awful manager, who apparently just liked to lie. I decided to not push it further, as I had clearly hit a wall, and refused the passes. Who wants to go to a movie they can’t hear? I went back about eight months later and didn’t see her, so hopefully she works somewhere else now.)

What A Gift Of A Complaint

, , , , , | Right | November 1, 2017

(We have a customer leave us the following comment card:)

Comment: “I would appreciate it if you would lower the water level in your commode. As someone who is gifted with an unusually long sexual organ, it’s quite uncomfortable for it to dip into the water.”

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