A Fairy Accurate Assessment

, , , | | Hopeless | May 7, 2019

My fiance and I are planning to elope and although I want to wear a nice dress, I don’t want to go all out and spend a significant amount on a branded wedding dress. I go online and find a nice, white maxi dress with some sparkles on it that is within my budget, and when it arrives it fits well but is slightly too long. Not an issue; I just go to the tailor to get it shortened.

The tailor I find is in the mall and they ask me to put on the dress so they can pin it. When I step out of the changing room, I see a little girl — maybe four or five years old — stopping right in front of the shop, tugging at her mum’s shirt with eyes wide open exclaiming, “Mummy, look! It’s a FAIRY!”

It absolutely made my day and made me smile extra wide on my wedding day!

Their Brain Checked Out Already

, , , | Right | February 14, 2019

(I am at the reception desk of our hotel when an older man comes and says:)

Guest: “I want to check out early and need two nights refunded.”

Me: “Sure. Can I have your name, and room number?”

Guest: “Oh, no, I am not staying here, but in another hotel in your company.”

Me: “In this case, you need to do the checkout there and claim the refund.”

Guest: “Yes, but I don’t want to go back there; it is on the other side of town.”

Me: “I understand, but I am afraid I cannot help you.”

Guest: “Why not? The other hotel belongs to your company, as well.”

(I spent an extra thirty minutes trying to explain until he finally gave up.)

Analyse This: I Quit

, , , , , , | Working | September 2, 2018

I get hired as an assistant in the photo department for an online clothing retailer, but I show up the first day only to be told by my boss that he believes my skill set would be more useful in a customer care position and to come in the next day with my personal laptop. I’m a little taken-aback by this, but after ensuring he is aware I can’t do a desk job where I’d have to sit in front of a screen all day due to chronic back issues, and being assured that isn’t the nature of the job, I comply — considering the pay for the second position was better — and come in the next day with my personal laptop.

That’s when I’m told my new job title is a Customer Behavior Analyst, and what that entails is, in fact, sitting in front of a screen all day, building massive brand-specific spreadsheets and reports that cover all purchases of that brand in a super complex matter. Of course, I’m expected to do so on my personal laptop, which would require me to download quite a few new programs, as well as a massive amount of data, onto a device that wasn’t meant for such large bulks of data-processing.

When I voice my concerns and bring up my back issues, I’m yet again assured it will be fine, that I can take breaks to stretch my back whenever needed, and that I can work on my own pace, as none of those reports are of an urgent nature and are only really needed once every two months when reordering is to take place.

I’m never officially trained on how to operate their system; I’m only told which fields to include in my spreadsheets and reports. Because of this, I end up having to redo the first spreadsheet three times, and have to do so manually for each order as the system they used was absolutely ancient. To give you an idea of how insane that is, the first brand I am tasked with doing has over fifty products on our site, each available in at least five colors, each color of course has anywhere between five and fifteen sizes, and the brand has at least a thousand orders. Because of the way their system works and the constant changes my boss suddenly decides he wants added or removed, it takes me two days to finish the first report. I tough through it, and thankfully manage to figure out how to do most things on my own as nobody saw it fit to teach me.

On my third day in the position, I am tasked with a brand that had about three times the amount of products and subproducts, and am told the report is needed first thing the next morning, which would be absolutely impossible to achieve. The boss won’t hear any “excuses” when I tell him that, and demands it be in his inbox first thing in the morning. This results in me staying in the office from eight am to eight pm, with no lunch break or back-stretching breaks, and continuing to work at home until about midnight.

I end up quitting after one week, as working in a position I am not qualified for, with a device not meant for the job, paired with absolutely insane deadlines just isn’t worth it. My work days ended up being over sixteen hours long on a good day, which obviously strained my back and caused pain so terrible I could hardly keep down two meals that entire week. The quitting process was an absolute nightmare, and involved getting yelled at by my boss — actually yelled at like a child — for nearly two hours, being told I was incompetent and immature, that I had absolutely no future, and that if I wanted an “easy” job, I could do well as a stripper.

Oh, and did I mention the boss was my step-dad?

Thinking Outside The Post Box

, , , | Working | January 10, 2018

(It’s the holidays, and because I am unable to go back home to Italy and celebrate with my family, I decide to put together a package with gifts for all of them and send it early, so they would have it by Christmas. At the post office, I am filling out the form with their address and mine and bring everything to the clerk.)

Clerk: *after looking over the forms* “So, your address seems to be fine, however, the shipping address does not… There is no PO box here.”

(Note that in the UAE everyone uses PO boxes, as they usually don’t have street names and numbers.)

Me: “No, it’s correct; we don’t use PO boxes. While we don’t have street names, you see…”

Clerk: “Well, are you sure this is the correct address?”

Me: “I lived there for over 20 years. I can assure you, this is the address.”

Clerk: “I will not take any responsibility if the package doesn’t arrive.”

Me: “It will arrive. I take the responsibility. Plus, I live in a very very small town with only one post officer. He knows everyone personally, which means even if the street name is wrong, he will still be able to deliver it because he knows my parents.”

Clerk: “All right, but as I said, I am not sure this will arrive, as there is no PO box, and I will put a note that says I informed you about it.”

Me: *sigh* “Put that note and just send it, please.”

(The package arrived just fine and my family received their presents and were very happy about it.)