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Reexamining Your Friendships

, , , , , | Friendly | October 17, 2022

It’s the day of our yearly exams — the ones that determine which level of classes we go into next year. I get to class to find that my so-called best friend has decided with others to change the seating arrangements that we’ve had all year. I go to sit in my regular seat next to her and find someone else sitting there.

Me: “[Friend #1], that’s my seat.”

Friend #1: “No, I don’t want you sitting here. Go find another seat.”

I am upset, and I turn to sit in the seat [Friend #1] normally sits in.

Friend #2: “No, you’re not sitting here. [Classmate] is here.”

Again, I try to find another seat and am told that they don’t want me next to them, either. I am upset as I don’t know what I’ve done to make them so hostile to me. Finally, I take an empty table at the rear of the class. My old friends glare at me before turning to each other, whispering and laughing. It’s not the best mindset to go into an exam with but I do my best on it.

The next morning in class, we get our results back. I’ve done very well with 92 out of 100. After class, one of the others pulls me aside.

Friend #1: “I’m so sorry about what we did to you yesterday. [Best Friend] told us that you always cheat off of her and that the reason why you got upset was that it meant you couldn’t cheat off her.”

Me: “I was upset because I was basically tossed out of a seat I’ve had all year and then made to feel horrible while you all were laughing at me.”

Friend #1: “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just that she told us you were a cheat and would copy our work.”

Me: “If I’m the cheat, then tell me why I got better marks than she did and why she got identical marks to [Friend #2] and they both failed the test.”

I chose not to associate myself with any of them. At our next class, I made a point of sitting on the far side of the room from them. I was very pleased to go back to school the next term to find that most of them had been put down several levels, so I never had to take classes with them again.

Thirty Brain Cells Hath This Employee…

, , , , , , , | Working | September 15, 2022

Me: “Hi, I want to return this shirt. I have the receipt right here.”

Employee: “Okay, let me have a look. Just so you know, our return policy is within thirty days.”

Me: “Yep, that’s fine; it’s within the time period.”

The employee scans my receipt and then frowns.

Employee: “Ma’am, our return policy is thirty days.”

Me: “Yep.”

Employee: “This was bought on the twelfth of February.”

Me: “That’s right.”

Employee: “Ma’am, it’s the thirteenth of March.”

Me: “Right. So it can be returned.”

Employee: “No, ma’am, it was bought more than a month ago.”

Me: “But less than thirty days ago.”

Employee: “It was bought more than a month ago.”

Me: “It was bought twenty-nine days ago. February had twenty-eight days this year. The return policy is thirty days.”

Employee: “I— I need to get a manager.”

I did get my refund.

The Only Thing Broken Here Is That Marriage

, , , , , , , , | Learning | August 25, 2022

Back when I used to work at an indoor soft play and cafe, we had to fill out paperwork if someone got hurt. One day, an eleven-year-old girl and her father approached me for first aid. She had changed her mind about the direction she was going and fell over her own feet and twisted her ankle. I gave first aid and filled out a report with her father. The girl was fine and her ego bruised more than the ankle as her dad was laughing at her fail. Ten minutes later, she was off running around again.

The next day, I got a phone call. I was increasingly suspicious throughout, but I was sincere and apologetic until the end.

Woman: “Hello. I need to make a complaint.”

Me: “Oh, I am sorry to hear that. What can I help with?”

Woman: “Your venue is dangerous. My daughter got her leg caught in the netting yesterday and broke her ankle.” 

Me: “Gosh! I hope she is okay. But, um, can you give me any more information about where and when it happened and who gave first aid?”

Woman: “It was at the top of the ramp up into the playframe. The woman at the front refused to give first aid because she was too busy.”

Me: “Wow! I am sorry to hear that. Did anyone fill out a report or call an ambulance?”

Woman: “No report. We rushed her out straight away and took her to the hospital. Now, what are you going to do for me?”

Me: “Wow, well, gosh, I really am sorry. I hope she makes a full recovery soon. Now if you don’t mind, I’m afraid I am going to have to fill out some paperwork. Can I start with her name?”

Woman: “[Girl].”

Me: “Oh. And her father’s name was [Girl’s Father].”

Woman: “How do you know that?”

Me: “Because I was walking past and saw her trip over, and so did [Girl’s Father]. She tripped over her own feet and all three of us knew that. Also, I was the woman who went up the front to administer first aid, who filled out the report with her father about what happened, and who bid them farewell two hours later after she had continued to run around and play. Now, I am sorry that she is hurt, and if she has indeed broken her ankle, then that will be awful for her, but I don’t know that it was because she got caught in our equipment.”

Woman: “Oh. Nevermind.”

She hung up.

I got another call later in the day. 

Girl’s Father: “I am really sorry, but my dips*** wife has just told me she made a fool of herself calling you this morning, and I wanted to let you know that my daughter is totally fine and is walking around as if nothing happened. It wasn’t your fault what happened and [Girl] had a really good day there. You have a really nice venue with nice staff. My daughter and I are moving out this weekend, and my soon-to-be ex-wife can sit and stew about whatever bulls*** she can come up with next.”

Meet The Mister Looking For His Miss-ogyny

, , , , , , | Right | August 9, 2022

I work as a beauty therapist at a VERY upscale franchise spa in a five-star hotel. The majority of our clientele are quite well-off and/or coming for a special occasion. Most are perfectly polite, but we do get a few clients who are entitled and demanding.

It’s about an hour before closing, and I’ve just exited from cleaning one of the treatment rooms when the receptionist pulls me aside. She’s a lovely girl from Mexico.

Receptionist: “Hey, [My Name]. I’m sorry, but you’ve had a last-minute booking for a thirty-minute massage.”

Me: “Oh, really? That should be fine.”

Receptionist: “Yeah, I’m sorry. The client asked for you specifically.”

I glance into the waiting room and see the client. I’m instantly confused.

Me: “I’ve never seen him in my life. Why would he ask for me?”

Receptionist: *Looking embarrassed* “Well… he said he only wanted to be booked with an Australian therapist, so it has to be you.”

I stare at her in disbelief. My coworkers at the spa are all extremely multicultural, and I love that. We have people who are Thai, Nepalese, Mexican, Spanish, German, Japanese, Italian, etc. I am the only white Australian who works at this particular location.

Me: “What?! Are you serious?! What does that have to do with anything?”

Receptionist: “I don’t want to book him, but [Manager] said just do it. I’m really sorry. I know it’s weird.”

Me: “I can’t believe this… Okay, fine. I’ll do it. Thank God it’s only a short booking.”

I’m so stunned and angry that I have to take a minute. I don’t know what to expect with this guy or what bearing he thinks cultural background has on this, but since I’m technically the only one who meets his request, I have no choice. I prepare the room, brace myself, and go to fetch the client.

Me: “Hi, [Client]? My name’s [My Name] and I’ll be your therapist today.”

He seems pleased and follows me to the room. I check his consultation form and he gets on the massage bed. I begin the massage.

Client: “So, you’re Australian?”

I’m irritated by his bigotry, but I try to be polite.

Me: “Well, yes. I was born and raised here.”

Client: “I’m glad. I’m [Ethnicity]. You been working here long?”

Me: “I started at this company last June.”

Client: “How often do you work?”

Me: *Thinking he’s just making small talk* “I work four days a week, currently. It’s such a physical job after all.”

Client: “So, you married?”

Me: “No.”

Client: “You have a partner?”

Me: “No, not right now.”

Client: “D***! I was going to say that your husband is a lucky man. Your hands are magic! How old are you?”

Me: “Late twenties.”

Client: “How long have you been single?”

I try to end this conversation.

Me: “A while.”

Client: “You should get married. You ever been with a [Ethnicity] man like me?”

Me: “No. Did you want me to turn the music up or anything?”

Client: “No, I’m good. See, honey, you need to get with a [Ethnicity] man like me. But just so you know, you won’t be able to work when you do. You can’t be Miss Independent with them.”

Me: “…”

Client: “You have to let them be in charge. If you submit, they’ll take care of you. If you try to be your own woman, it won’t work out.”

I die a little inside.

He proceeds to lecture me throughout the rest of the treatment about how a “proper” wife should behave while asking extremely invasive questions about my dating history, which I gently rebuff.

The thirty-minute massage is agonisingly slow, but I get him out as quickly as I possibly can. My coworkers are very concerned with his odd behaviour once I tell them what he was saying. A note is put on his file that he is not to be rebooked. I go home and think that’s the end of it, but the next morning, I arrive to find the receptionist looking worried.

Receptionist: “[My Name]! Are you okay?”

Me: “Yes. What’s going on?”

Receptionist: “That weird guy from yesterday came back looking for you.”

Me: “What?!”

Receptionist: “Yeah, before we opened, he was standing outside, staring into the window. He was wondering when you started work.”

Me: *Pauses* “If he comes back today, tell him I’m not working. And if he comes back again, tell him I’ve been moved to a different spa.”

Receptionist: “If he comes back, I’m calling security. He’s crazy.”

The spa manager was horrified when she found out, and the client was promptly blacklisted for life. So far, he hasn’t returned, and I hope it stays that way!

People Who Work With Customers Know The Good Ones

, , , , , , | Right | August 9, 2022

After driving for eight hours, I finally reach my hotel. I’m exhausted but starving. Not wanting to try and park again in the small hotel parking lot, I walk to a nearby popular fast food joint. An employee is cleaning tables outside.

Employee: “Sorry, inside’s shut. The drive-thru is open, though.”

Me: “Bugger. I walked up from [Hotel]. Is there any way I can order and pay on the app and someone bring it out here?”

Employee: “We’re not busy. Just walk through to the first window I’ll meet you there.”

Me: “Thank you so much!”

I walk through, order, and pay on my card. I try to hand him $10 as a thank-you; tipping is very uncommon here.

Employee: “Don’t worry about it. Just glad to be able to help. If you want to take a seat out the front, I’ll bring it out to you.”

It only took a minute before he came out with my food and wished me a good night. When I got back to my room, I found extra nuggets and a chocolate doughnut from their café. Thank you, kind worker; you brightened a long stressful day!