Almost two decades ago, I worked in tech support for HP printers/scanners for Macs. Tech support is clearly filled with people having idiotic moments.

After almost an hour of troubleshooting with one client, I am at my wit’s end. My manager has a helpful suggestion.

Manager: “Ask them if the power cord is plugged in.”

Me: “I refuse to believe people are simply that stupid.”

Manager: “You’re new. You’ll learn to believe it.”

I ask the client.

Client: “No, it’s not plugged in.”

Me: “You need to plug it in.”

Client: “I wouldn’t have thought that would make a difference.”

I became a believer.

Related:
The Wrong Outlet For Your Problems, Part 2
The Wrong Outlet For Your Problems

A great restauranteur opened a chain of cafés/relaxed dining restaurants. They were great. They served Italian cuisine — very simple, quality ingredients, shown at their best with simple presentation. It was a favourite of ours.

At some point, the chain was taken over by a ginormous global food conglomerate. This story takes place sometime after that, but we had many good meals there after the takeover.

This time, I order beef carpaccio as a starter: a simple dish of thinly-sliced raw beef with parmesan, olive oil, and some salad leaves. The dish arrives, and the beef is brown. It’s raw beef, and it’s brown. It is clear to me that it has been exposed to the air for hours and oxidised.

Me: “This shouldn’t be brown. Something is wrong.”

Waitress: *Picking up my plate* “I will ask the kitchen.”

A few minutes later, a manager comes to our table

Manager: “What’s the problem?”

Me: “The beef carpaccio had oxidised; it was brown.”

A few minutes later, he comes out, triumphant!

Manager: “Yes, you are right. It shouldn’t be brown!” 

I was a little stunned. He definitely seemed to think I should be pleased that he had validated my complaint. Was I the only person on the premises who knew that beef carpaccio was raw and that raw beef was red?

It was obvious to me that the dish had been prepared hours before and (presumably) inadequately covered in cling film. The waitress didn’t know the dish, which she should have; the menu wasn’t that long. But more worryingly, either there was no one in charge of the kitchen, or that person wasn’t watching the dishes leave, or they didn’t know what beef carpaccio looked like, or they didn’t care. None of the options filled us with confidence. We paid for our drinks and found somewhere else to eat.

The restaurant has been purchased by yet another corporation and is still trading ten years later. I haven’t bothered going back.

As a grocery delivery driver, the first few months of the global health crisis were… wild, to say the least.

Firstly, I went from pretty much being treated like a non-entity by my customers to some kind of superhero. I would roll my trolley of groceries up to a customer’s house and would leave with chocolate, cold drinks, and more hand sanitiser and wet wipes than I could use in two lifetimes. I made a small fortune in tip money.

One night while I was working, a guy standing at a crossing started jumping and clapping and waving at me, giving me thumbs-up.

But then, there were also the REALLY stupid people.

I lost count of the number of times I’d get to a front door and have a customer open it coughing and spluttering.

Customer: “I should warn you I tested positive.”

But this one is without a doubt the worst customer I had. I was wearing my facemask, and as soon as his door opened, he launched into a rant about how masks were useless and didn’t help anything, I should do my own research, etc.

Me: “Look, you think whatever you want, but my godmother is a phlebotomist for the National Health Service and has been wearing masks at work for over thirty years. My best friend is doing her Ph.D. in biogenetics and wears a mask every day in the lab. My sister’s father-in-law was an army doctor and wore masks whenever he worked with patients. My aunt is the head of logistics for [Ambulance Service], and they spent a small fortune on masks and other PPE for their crews back at the end of 2019. So, that’s my research, and frankly, I’m going to value that over something a random idiot said on the Internet.”

My friends and I love getting together and doing different social things. However, we are not really party people and prefer low-key and relaxed stuff. At one point, [Friend #1] makes a new acquaintance through some other social group he is involved with. Quickly, this guy becomes entangled in our friendship group and always seems to be coming along to stuff.

He is an okay guy, but we notice that he always wants to control any social events we have. Whether it is always changing the music or trying to dictate different things we do, it gradually grates on us. Also, he is always trying to push us into either going clubbing or playing drinking games, which none of the group particularly likes.

One weekend, it is my birthday, and to celebrate, I have a games night around my place. My friends and I frequently hold these, and we try to come with all kinds of different games to keep it interesting. We start with “Cards Against Humanity” and then have a game of “Cluedo”. After that, we move on to playing some classic first-person shooter video games like “Left For Dead” and “Goldeneye”.

After a couple of hours, I hear a knock at the door, which is surprising as all the people invited are already there. [Acquaintance] has turned up completely uninvited, and he proceeds to walk in as if he owns the place. Immediately, I am irked by this because I don’t particularly want him there on my birthday. Sure enough, he immediately tries to take over, demanding that we turn off “Goldeneye” and start playing card games like poker.

From what I understand, [Friend #1] mentioned it was my birthday, and [Acquaintance] immediately assumed he was invited. [Friend #1] looks very annoyed but neither of us makes a scene as it isn’t worth it.

Soon after, we get “Mario Kart” started. All the while [Acquaintance] is whining and complaining to try to get us to do what he wants. At one point, several of my buddies and I are locked in a pretty close race… and then the TV is randomly turned off!

Me: “WHAT THE H***?! WHAT HAPPENED?!”

I look up and see [Acquaintance] holding the TV remote.

Acquaintance: “Right. Boring s*** is over! Now the real party begins.”

He slams down a bottle of whiskey and a pack of cards. Internally, I groan because I know exactly where this is heading.

Me: “WE WERE PLAYING ON THAT!”

Friend: “[Acquaintance], that was really f****** rude!! Why did you do that?”

Acquaintance: “Right. We’re gonna start with ‘Ring Of Fire’…”

Me: “We don’t like drinking games, [Acquaintance], and I sure as h*** don’t want to play them at my party!”

Acquaintance: “Look… You need to let go of whatever OCD stuff you have going on and accept that there is a big group of us and you only get so much say in what we do!”

Friend #1: “Err… It’s his birthday; he gets 100% say in what we do or don’t do! We were enjoying playing that game. You don’t just turn it off without asking first!”

Acquaintance: “Look, [My Name], everyone is clearly bored off their a** with these dumb old games. I’m just trying to liven things up a bit! How about we play ‘I Have Never’? I’ll go first… I have never performed [sex act] on another person!”

Friend #2: “We are definitely not playing that one. Besides, the only reason you seem to want to play is to brag about how much sex or alcohol you have! That’s way more boring!”

Acquaintance: “Well, these are the games I want to play…”

Me: “[Acquaintance], clearly no one else wants to play, so either join in or go home!”

Acquaintance: “Well, that’s a nice way to treat your guests!”

Me: “May I remind you that I didn’t actually invite you to this thing? You just turned up, didn’t even wish me happy birthday, and you’ve acted like a d**k the whole time! This isn’t your party, so either join in or leave!”

Friend #1: “[Acquaintance]. None of us like drinking games. Stop trying to take over every single thing. It’s really annoying! [My Name] is being incredibly nice to even let you stay after all this! So, I suggest grabbing a controller and participating; everyone else here is!”

With that, we went back to our game. [Acquaintance] sat in a chair necking whiskey from the bottle and sulking. An hour or so later, we noticed that he had gotten up and quietly left. He hasn’t hung out with us since, and our games nights continue to this day!

I am on a busy bus, and I’m sitting on one of the easy-access seats. I’m a youngish man. An older woman gets on and immediately starts poking my leg with her walking stick.

Older Lady: “Oi! Get up! Those seats aren’t for you!”

Me: “There are three empty accessible seats right next to you, and please stop poking me.”

Older Lady: “Young men stand on the bus! And this is my walking stick! I need it to walk, and I also use it to make my point to young ruffians like you!”

I proceed to remove my entire prosthetic leg and aim it at her.

Me: “This is my walking stick. I need it to walk. Shall I also use it to make my point?”

The old lady’s eyes went wide, and she sat down in one of the available seats and muttered an apology.

The best part was that later on the bus journey, a bunch of old ladies boarded at once, and I made a big show of vacating my seat and offering it to them. The flurry of “What a nice young man!”-type comments increased with the redness of the old lady’s face.