My local coffee shop is offering a Gingerbread Latte: gingerbread syrup, steamed milk, whipped cream, shaved chocolate, and a tiny gingerbread biscuit. You can also add any flavoured syrup to a drink for 40p extra.

Me: “Can I have a medium soya latte with gingerbread syrup, please?”

Barista: “A medium soya gingerbread latte? Okay.”

Me: “No, just a soya latte with gingerbread syrup. I don’t want the toppings.”

Barista: “A soya gingerbread latte with no toppings, right?”

Me: “No, sorry, I just want a plain soya latte with syrup.”

Barista: “It’s called a gingerbread latte.”

Me: “How much is a gingerbread latte?”

Barista: “Medium is £3.45”

Me: “How much is a medium plain latte?”

Barista: “£2.45.”

Me: “And syrup is 40p, right?”

Barista: “Uh, yeah.”

Me: “Okay. So, if you can make me a soya gingerbread latte with no toppings for £2.85, I’ll have that. Otherwise, I’ll have a soya latte with gingerbread syrup. Okay?”

Barista: *Deer-in-headlights look* “Ohhh, right. One medium soya latte with gingerbread syrup. £2.85, please.”

Sheesh.

[Student] is in our engineering course. He doesn’t listen to anything the lecturer says, doesn’t make notes, and is often late. Halfway through the year, he brags that he hasn’t done a single assignment himself. He either paid someone to write them or bought them online.

As someone who struggles daily, this infuriates me. Just because he has money, why should he have the easy life?!

After another bragging session a few weeks on, I speak to my professor, who tells me sadly that if there is no proof and the plagiarism isn’t evident, they can’t do anything about it. But “these people never get far.”

I take that as some meaningless platitude and try my best to avoid [Student] altogether.

The rest of the year, I struggle through the course getting average marks. [Student] gets 100% every time. Right at the end of the academic year, this happens:

Lecturer: “Good news, everyone! We have decided to scrap the last assignment.”

Cheers come from the class.

Lecturer: “But we will be having a test, instead.”

Cue lots of groans.

Lecturer: “Don’t worry. We devised a special one, just for this class.”

We all crammed like crazy. [Student] was particularly panicking. When we got to the test, it was incredibly easy, with basic answers from the coursework, just simple understanding questions. Everyone finished it in minutes… all apart from [Student].

He got a redo, failed, then had a retest date, and he failed that, too. He couldn’t pass without the exam and ended up repeating the whole year.

This story is part of our Best Of August 2021 roundup!

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I run my own independent artist social media, so I tend to go shopping to find outfits in charity shops that are high fashion for photoshoots and music videos, all of which I also do myself. One day, I head into a well-known charity shop. I find out they recently started bridal wear, which is perfect, as I am looking for a fancy prom or ball gown dress for a photoshoot and video idea.

I request to see the section and am taken to it by a short, curt, and grumpy woman who is very tactless when it comes to speaking to me. Just to put it into perspective, I am a very petite woman in height, and I’m an average weight — not skinny, but not big enough to be classed as overweight, either. I come across a couple of dresses: a purple strapless corset dress with a giant tulle underskirt and a pink fishtail prom dress, corset back and zip. And I instantly fall in love with them. Unfortunately, the woman serving me is very displeased to be serving me, and she scoffs at every dress I pull off of the hangers.

Employee: “Oh, you can’t fit in that; your legs are too chunky.” 

Employee: “Why would you pull that one out? You know you will never fit into that dress.” 

Employee: “But you’re too big to pick that one; I’ll get you something else.”

She then proceeded to pull out an ugly dress that was far too big for me.

After trying to brush off her comments and continue to browse, I finally had enough, dumped the dresses in her arms, and told her I would not be purchasing from their store because of how uncomfortable she made me feel. And even though the dresses I found were perfect for what I was looking for, I left. I cried when I got home; her words hurt. I also reported her to the manager of the store, who was very upset to find out they had lost out on a big purchase and also upset by her behaviour. Unfortunately, I still haven’t found the perfect dress yet.

I work in a pensions and investments company call centre. I am on their e-service support desk for people struggling to log into their accounts on our website. I have a caller phone up, go through all the security questions with me, and then let me know they are having trouble logging in.

Our website has a lot of different login screens, so clicking “log in” just takes you to all the different sections for the different accounts. These are all labelled with the type of account the customer has to make it easy to navigate to the right place.

Me: “So, what you do is you click ‘log in,’ click ‘customer,’ and navigate to ‘[Correct Contract]’. Once there, click that button to take you to your login portal.”

Caller: “Okay.” *Pauses* “So, I’m logged in, but I don’t see my plan.”

Me: “Did you navigate to ‘[Correct Contract]’ and click it?”

Caller: “I clicked ‘log in’ but nothing happened. I don’t see my plan details.”

Me: “Okay, so you click ‘log in,’ click ‘customer,’ and navigate to ‘[Correct Contract]’.”

Caller: “I did click ‘log in’ but nothing happened. I can’t see my plan still.”

Me: “…”

Me: “So, after you click ‘log in,’ you need to click ‘customer’ to give you the different login options, and then you need to click on ‘[Correct Contract]’. This is where you actually need to log in. So, can you do that for me?”

Caller: “Nothing happened.” 

Me: *Patience running thin* “Did you click on ‘customer’?”

Caller: *Realisation dawns* “Oh… okay.” *Pauses* “So… now where do I log in?”

Me: *Rubbing my face* “You click… ‘[Correct Contract]’.”

Caller: *Long, long pause* “Oooh, okay.” *Pauses* “So do I put my login info here?”

Me: *Forcing a smile, gritted teeth* “Yeah, that’s your login page. Yup. Uh-huh.”

Caller: *Pauses again* “Okay! I see my plan now! You’ve been really helpful, thanks! Bye.” *Hangs up*

Me: *Just stares at the screen*

I’m getting calls every hour on my landline — I guess I have a landline; who knew? — from a scam call centre, hoping to coax me into letting them into my home network. I have ignored them, gotten angry, reported them, etc. They keep calling. So, I try a new tack.

Caller: “This is [Company] support. How are you?”

Me: “I’m great! How are you?”

Caller: “I’m good. I am calling about the problems with your broadband. We are seeing a lot of errors.”

Me: “Oh, that’s great! I’ve been meaning to call you about that. Thanks.”

Skip the bit when I straight-out lie about the colours of the lights on my router.

Caller: “So, do you have a laptop or computer to connect to the Internet?”

Me: “Yes, I have a laptop but is… um… in a box.”

Yeah, improv is not one of my skills. 

Caller: “If you set it up, I will wait.”

Me: “Great! Won’t be long.”

Now I am in a coffee shop. I wonder how long she waited before hanging up?