Maybe He Should Move To America

, , , , | Right | October 11, 2019

(This took place nearly a decade ago. I’ve already voted and am just waiting for my wife to finish. I see an old man being wheeled in by three ladies, who I assume to be his wife, daughter and granddaughter. After entering, the old man takes a good look around before loudly asking a question:)

Old Man: “Where the f*** do I vote for the Nazis?!”

(Most of the voters freeze, and several stare at the old man. The ladies with him all look either shocked or embarrassed.)

Daughter: *sounding shocked* “Dad, you can’t f****** vote for them anymore.”

(They left quickly, and I never saw the old man ever again.)

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Unfiltered Story #168386

, , | Unfiltered | September 26, 2019

Thanks to some odd wiring notes on our power meter, we commonly get bills for the usage of another house on our street, and they bills for ours. When chasing it up with the company, we were both told to both send in letters or emails to explain the scenario so that the company could sort it.

This mistake has happened multiple times, so our neighbour refuses to pay anything on his bill (even his own usage) until the invoice is correct, which can then lead to pending disconnections, which because of the company’s masterful handling of utility maps, intermittently dispatch to our property.

So, it was not as much of a surprise as it could have been when the meter box made a ‘ping’ noise as it opened at my house one evening. I scooted through the garage to the meter, and caught the worker with the box still open. After explaining the situation, and demonstrating the bizarre meter notes, he followed his procedure to call the company on cellphone and ask them for further instruction. They spoke a few moments, then he put the phone on speaker so we could both follow the outcome – I didn’t complain, as it was quite cold.

Nothing too strange happened through the beginning of the call; I identified myself so that the record could be accessed, ran through the case history, and then the customer rep went quiet for about thirty seconds without saying anything.

Me: “Hello? Are you still there, or has the phone-?”
Rep: “Yes, I’m still here, just shut up.”
Me: “What!?”
Rep: “Just shut up! I’ve had a long afternoon, do you identify as Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander?”

This is a voluntary statistical question pretty common in most interactions with government or corporate services here, allowing the various bureaus to track number, interests, and needs of the various indigenous peoples.

Me: “Negative.”
Rep: “**** off.”
Me, intelligently: “Uh- What?”
Rep: “**** off! I’ve had a bad day and I don’t need you going off at me just because you don’t want to pay your bills.”
Me: “I apologise if I sounded hostile somehow, but I’m not looking to avoid paying my charges; I have paid my usage, but the invoices have been sent to the incorrect-”
Rep: “You s are all alike, getting drunk on OUR tax dollar, ****ing it up with your friends and hundreds of fat children. Go back to the ****ing bush!”
Me: “Madam! How dare you! Get your supervisor on the call.”
Rep, continuing as though I hadn’t spoken: “- stinking up the train and ****ing breaking **** wherever social security sends you. Dole begging human trash, the lot of you!”
Me: “Supervisor. Get me your supervisor now.”

Unfortunately, my request was not adhered to, as the rep then terminated the call. The worker, aghast, just closed the box without disconnecting our power.

Me: “What the **** was that about?”
Worker: “Sir, I’m just a contractor, but I’m really sorry that you had to deal with that. I’ll be filing an official complaint when I get back to base. Have a great night.”

The rep had on the file that it was myself who had been verbally abusive, aggressive, and bigoted (against ‘good white folk’), but it got put aside quickly enough when the worker’s official complaint came through. Thankfully as well, the day after that, the company apologetically contacted me to make amends for having messed up the billing once more; though it hasn’t prevented the mistake from occurring again, I thankfully have not had to deal with the same call rep who decided that I must be of Aboriginal descent from a partial conversation on the phone.

Cover Every Eventuality Except The Customer Being Right

, , , | Right | September 17, 2019

(When a new Internet service is connected, customers will be sent a notification advising of their details needed to log in or configure a modem. Usually, this is sent out straight away but sometimes it gets delayed, or the customer asks for it before it gets a chance to send.)

Caller: “Hi. I got a service connected yesterday and I haven’t been sent my username and password.”

Me: “No problems. I can get that for you.”

(We go through the ID process.)

Me: “Thanks, I have your account here. Now, I can send those details to you via—”

Caller: *snarky* “Well, if you’re going to email it to me, how am I supposed to access it when I can’t even log on to my Internet?”

Me: “As I was about to say, I can send it via text message to the number you’re calling from. Or another number… or I can read it out to you to note down…”

Caller: “Oh…”

Me: *sweet as treacle* “…because most people would have the same issue, so we have a range of options to work around it for you.”

Caller: “Oh… well… Actually, I was being a little mean because I can actually access email on my phone, but I thought, ‘What if I don’t have an iPhone?’”

(By now I have sent the text message.)

Me: “Yes, well, I did wonder that. But as I said, we cover each eventuality. Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

Caller: *grumpily* “No, thank you.” *click*

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Five Reasons To Say No

, , , , | Right | September 11, 2019

(I am selling a secondhand hard drive for $20. This is a very reasonable price as most people sell the same item for $25 or more around here. Someone messages me:)

Buyer: “5.”

(Not $5, not 5:00 pm, not a greeting, or any other indicator.)

Me: “5?”

Buyer: “Yup.”

Me: “Sorry, what do you mean, ‘5’?”

Buyer: “For the hard drive.”

Me: “Do you mean five dollars?”

Buyer: “Yup.”

Me: “Sorry, it’s $20. If you’re willing to pay that much I can give it to you; otherwise, I’ll find someone who is willing.”

Buyer: “A 1-terabyte secondhand drive for $20? F****** rip off.”

Me: “I personally haven’t seen anyone selling a 1-terabyte hard-drive for $5 before, but if they are, feel free to buy one. I’m selling mine for $20.”

Buyer: “If you can’t handle the d*** price, I’m not paying more than what they are. F****** simple. I know my prices, bye.”

(I know he’s not going to cooperate, so I say:)

Me: “I have buyers willing to be polite and negotiate to pay a reasonable price, so I am going to terminate this conversation now. Thank you. Also, beginning the conversation with the number ‘5’ and no greeting or quantifier of what you mean by that does not make me want to negotiate with you since, frankly, that’s extremely rude.”

(He then sends one more message before blocking me:)

Buyer: “Get f***ed.”

(Then, he gave me my only negative seller review. I later sold the product for $25.)

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I’m Mo-Telling On You!

, , , , | Right | July 19, 2019

(The city has just started a month-long arts festival, and there is also a motocross championship happening, so you can’t get a motel room easily. I’m checking into a cheap motel with an okay reputation, just happy to get a room at short notice. I’m checking in early and know that I might have to wait a little while before the room is ready. I’m filling out the registration form while the receptionist is on the phone. A well-dressed lady in her 40s storms in.)

Lady: *to me* “Urgh! This place is disgusting. You’re not staying here, are you?”

Me: “Actually, I am.

Lady: “Well, don’t. It’s disgusting — definitely not worth [price]!”

Receptionist: *off the phone* “Hello. Checking out?”

Lady: *throws room keys at him* “Yes, and I want a refund now!

Receptionist: “I’m sorry to hear that. May I ask why?”

Lady: “The mirror is smashed; I could have seriously hurt myself. There’s no parking, I had to park on the street, and the room reeks of cigarette smoke.”

Receptionist: “Ma’am, I explained yesterday that it had just been broken and that we would replace it, but you didn’t want to wait. Parking shouldn’t be a problem; we have more than enough spaces.”

Lady: “When there are a bus and a four-wheel drive with a trailer there are not!”

Receptionist: “We have allocated spots for large vehicles. Did you try closer to the office?”

Lady: “Well, how was I meant to know about that?! It’s not like I work here.”

Receptionist: “Anything else, ma’am?”

Lady: “The room reeks of cigarette smoke. I’m allergic. It nearly killed me.”

Receptionist: “We have extremely sensitive smoke alarms in the rooms and bathrooms that would have had the fire brigade here if someone smoked in the room.”

Lady: *huffing, now really angry* “This place is disgusting. I’m putting a review on [Travel Website] and talking to a lawyer.”

Receptionist: “Ma’am, you arrived last night when we were full. We managed to get a room ready when someone had checked out early. I explained about the mirror when you inspected the room, and you stayed over checkout by two and a half hours and didn’t bring this to my attention. I can’t help you, but the owner will be here tomorrow if you want to talk to them.”

(The lady storms out, cursing.)

Receptionist: *takes a deep breath* “I’m so sorry about that.”

Me: “That’s fine, not your fault.”

Receptionist: “I’m sorry, your room isn’t quite ready yet. It is room eight, the room she complained about, but once it’s ready you can inspect it and the mirror can be fixed later this afternoon.”

(He looks scared that I will cause a scene.)

Me: “It’s okay. I’ll just go and get a coffee up the road, and I’m sure the room’s fine. She’s just a b****.”

(The receptionist looks relieved and laughs a little. I leave as more people come in. Twenty minutes later, I get the call to check in. The room doesn’t smell of smoke, there is a small amount of damage to the bottom of the bathroom mirror where the glass has been removed, and there is plenty of parking, just not right beside the room. Later, when I check out, both the receptionist and owner are there, with the owner on the phone in the back office.)

Receptionist: “Miss [My Name], I hope the room was acceptable.”

Me: “It was fine. The mirror didn’t bother me, I couldn’t smell smoke — I have severe allergies — and I found the parking fine. I really appreciate the early check-in. Thank you. I’m lucky to have gotten a great room so cheap at this time.”

Owner: “Hi, are you the lady that stayed in room eight last night?”

Me: “Yes, I did.”

Owner: “Can you please tell me what happened?”

(I recount what happened, and I give my impression of the room and the great job the young receptionist did.)

Owner: “Thank you. I just had that other woman on the phone demanding a refund, saying that [Receptionist] yelled at her and called her a rich b****, and that [Receptionist] had been smoking when she inspected the room.”

(I was given a discount on my room by the owner and thanked by the receptionist and wished a safe trip. As I was about to drive away, the receptionist ran out with bags of drinks and snacks, more than enough to keep me going through my eight-hour drive home, as a thank-you. Seriously, lady, you check into a cheap motel at one of the busiest times of the year, when other motels are charging up to five times their normal rates, for under $100, and expect five stars?!)

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