(I’ve been working as a waiter at a bar for around a month. I know most drink names and how to do nearly everything a customer might ask, but I still need some help from time to time. It’s a very busy evening and I see a man at the bar who hasn’t been served.)

Me: “Hi there! What can I get you?”

Customer: “A paper booklet.”

(Because there’s so much noise, I can’t hear him properly.)

Me: “Excuse me. Could you repeat that? I’m not sure I follow.”

Customer: “I want a paper booklet!”

Me: “I’m sorry. I’m quite new here; I don’t really understand…” 

Customer: “Oh, I’ll just ask someone else!”

(He stomps away to ask a coworker. Another coworker comes to see what the trouble is. I tell her what happened.)

Coworker: “He was talking about smoking paper. You know, the paper you use to roll your own cigarettes?”

(I went to get it and apologised to him, an apology he reluctantly accepted. Then, my boss, who was around, asked me what it was all about. I told him what had gone down and he asked why I didn’t get him the tobacco rolling paper before; honestly, it had never crossed my mind! I told my boss that all I could really think about was a small book of papers, and that the only thing I could think of was getting the papers we use to write orders down, stapling some together and giving them to him! He laughed so hard he was nearly crying, and so did all my coworkers; it was all good in the end, and a fun way to end my shift.)

(I am on a seven-and-a-half-hour bus ride in a tiny seat. There are two stops: a long one in the middle and a short one an hour away from my city. The seats are reclinable chairs, and there is very little room for your legs even if the person in front of you doesn’t recline theirs. If they do, it is less than comfortable, and if they recline it twice the room disappears. Most people just recline it once, knowing it wouldn’t be pleasant for the person behind if they did it twice. I never recline it. I’m a short female, about 1,60m or 5’3”. A couple about my age get on the bus on the long stop. The guy sits in front of me, both of us having window seats. He immediately reclines his seat twice, so it rests on my knees. I wait for about ten minutes and then try to talk to him.)

Me: “Hi, could you please–”

Guy: “No! The seat in front of me is reclined, so I’m doing the same!”

Me: “I understand, but you have reclined yours twice, so there isn’t–”

Guy: “I don’t care! They have reclined their seat, and so have I!”

(His poor girlfriend seems to be distressed about his tone. She looks like a quiet girl and obviously isn’t having fun.) 

Me: “All right, I’m just trying to be polite and not to disturb the person behind me.”

Guy: “I DON’T CARE!”

Me: *quietly* “Ooookay.”

(I spent the next hour and a half crossing and uncrossing my legs once a minute, perfectly aware that he was feeling every movement like I was pushing his back. We made the short stop, and when the guy returned to his seat, he adjusted it to the recline-once position without a word. I stopped crossing my legs, though it’d have been sooo easy to keep on doing it for the rest of the journey… I guess I’m not a vengeful spirit.)

(This story happens to two friends of mine around ten years ago. One of them is a cashier at a video game store; the other has arrived at that same store to pre-order a copy of Pokémon Platinum. The cashier friend’s supervisor is there alongside them. The pick-up goes smoothly, until…)

Friend #1: “As you are pre-ordering a copy, you get a figure as a gift!”

Friend #2: “Really?”

Supervisor: “And it’s made of gelatin!”

(Both friends are confused after those words.)

Both Friends: “Of gelatin?”

(The supervisor looks for a pamphlet supporting what she said.)

Supervisor: “Yes! It says so right here. Look!”

(They look at the pamphlet that says that, with a pre-order, you get a Giratina figure.)

Friend #1: “[Supervisor], Giratina is the Pokémon’s name.”

Supervisor: “Huh?”

Friend #1: “[Supervisor], Giratina. It’s not made of gelatin.”

Supervisor: “You don’t say! I was telling everyone that we were giving away gelatin figures!”

(I work in a cancer research facility. For some background to the story, we are not a learning center, but a fully-functioning research building. We do have students, but they are at least in the third or fourth year of college, and some are even working on their thesis. We have a rule: if you have to use the equipment and do not know how, DO NOT touch it and ask for help. This rule is in place to protect the insanely expensive equipment, such as high-resolution microscopes, centrifuges, and cytometers, because if something happens to them, the hourly fee for a qualified technician runs in the hundreds of dollars. This rule applies to every machine, not only the expensive ones.)

Student: “Hi. I need to measure the pH of this solution.”

Me: “No problem. Here is the pH meter to do that. Do you know how to use it?”

Student: “This one is different than the model I know.”

(All pH meters work the same. You know how to use one, you know them all. pH meters have a crystal electrode that you introduce in the solution, and the machine gives you the pH measure automatically. However, you have to clean the electrode before using it to wash away the conservation solution — KCl — and to not contaminate your own solution with it.  I take her answer as she doesn’t know where the Off/On button is, so I turn it on for her and resume my work. The student takes the electrode, pulls it out of the conservation solution, and plunges it into her solution, which is the same color and texture of blue ink.)

Me: “Did you wash the electrode?”

Student: *confused* “Was I supposed to do that?”

Me: “Well… yes. Because if not, you just cross-contaminated your solution. Unless you know for a fact that your solution contains potassium chloride.”

Student: *alarmed* “Oh, no!”

(She proceeds to take the electrode out of her blue solution and plunge it again into the conservation solution, which turns blue immediately and now will have to be disposed of and replaced. I look at her, speechless. Suddenly realizing what she just did, she says:)

Student: “Oh, oh, what a mess I have made! Oh, my! I will have to do the solution again! I will be back to measure the pH later!”

(And without another word, she ran out of the door. Obviously, I had to clean up the pH meter and the counter and replace the conservation solution for a new one. She has not come back yet to measure the pH of her solution.)

(I work for a big bank. When a new customer opens an account, they are required to set a numeric password in order to access our online service safely. I get cases like this one many times a day.)

Me: “All right, Mr. [Customer], in order to finish the process, you are now required to set a PIN consisting of six numbers. That PIN is strictly personal — we’ll set it via a confidential voice system — so don’t say it out loud. Also, for security reasons, the numbers must not match those of your birth date or DNI.” *this is a Spanish official identification document* “Just tell me when you are ready and I’ll transfer you to our automated system in order to set it.”

Customer: “Oh… Err… Can it contain letters?”

Me: “No, only six numbers, sir.”

Customer: “A maximum of six numbers?”

Me: “Six numbers exactly, please.”

Customer: “Can it be four, so it matches my card PIN? That way I only have to remember one.”

Me: “I’m afraid it has to be exactly six non-consecutive numbers, sir. Also, we don’t recommend using the same password for different services, as separate PINs are safer.”

Customer: *groans* “Oh, boy, how am I supposed to come up with six numbers out of the blue like that?”

Me: *thinking of possible random combinations of numbers and wondering what’s so hard about it* “Sir, you can choose any combination you want as long as they are not consecutive and do not match personal data. For example, you can use a date that means something special for you, using only two digits for the year. Just don’t use your birthday, for security reasons.”

Customer: *after some more time thinking and groaning* “Okay, I got it.” *proceeds to spit the numbers so fast I can’t say a word*

Me: “Sir, you are not supposed to say them out loud. Also, those are the first six numbers of your ID, so they can’t be used.”

(The customer spends a couple of minutes mumbling numbers to himself and groaning as if we had asked him to solve an advanced mathematical equation, then confirms he’s ready.)

Me: “All right, sir, let me transfer you to the automated voice system. You only have to press the numbers or say them out loud one by one without articles, and then the call will return to me.”

(I transfer him and come back after some seconds. The PIN has not been set.)

Me: “Sir, I think there might have been a problem.”

Customer: “Your system is useless! I said the numbers and it didn’t understand me! I went like, twelve…”

Me: “Let me stop you there, sir. Remember, the numbers are confidential. The problem is that you must say them one by one. Let’s try again.”

(I transfer him again, come back and, lo and behold, something went wrong again.)

Me: “Sir?”

Customer: “I’m sick of this system! It fails every time! I’m saying—“ *before I can stop him* “—onetwothreefourfivesix, and it says invalid PIN!”

Me: “Sir, they have to be non-consecutive.” *bangs head against desk*

Related:
PIN-Headed, Part 6
PIN-Headed, Part 5
PIN-Headed, Part 4

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