Dad Is Shipping You

, , , , | Related | July 19, 2019

(On a visit to Portsmouth Dockyard, home of the Victory and the Mary Rose, I happen to overhear a conversation between a father and his small son about a modern warship in another part of the yard.)

Son: “Who owns that ship, Dad?”

Father: “Nobody owns it. It’s for sale.”

Son: “Who’s going to buy it?”

Father: “Anyone can. You can buy it if you like, but I don’t know where you’re going to put it.”

(I strolled away with a smile on my face, wishing my own dad had been that cool.)

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Yacht Would You Like For Breakfast?

, , , , | Friendly | March 8, 2019

(My friend has a boat that’s currently on dry land, as we are doing some essential winter repairs. I’ve just reconnected all the cabling for the ship-to-shore radio, which hasn’t functioned properly for months due to some old cables that needed to be replaced. We settle down with anticipation for the first test of the radio, a simple call to the nearby marina, asking for a radio check. The marina we call up has a slight reputation for being a bit stuffy and straight-laced.)

Me: “Calling [Marina], this is [Yacht], just asking for a radio check, please. Over.”

(There’s ten seconds of silence, during which my friend’s face falls, until:)

Marina: “Good morning, [Yacht]. We’re receiving you, but just to let you know, there’s a lot of static; it sounds like you’re frying eggs and bacon in the background. Over.”

(That’s probably due to a weak connection somewhere, but we’re just glad it worked the first time!)

Me: “Thank you, [Marina]. We’ll stop cooking breakfast as soon as possible. Over.

Marina: “Three orders of eggs and chips, please, [Yacht]. Over and out.”

(I finally managed to clear up the issues with the static, but these mad little moments are to be treasured!)

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A Diverse Office Means Pronouncing Some Weird Names

, , , , , , , , | Working | February 1, 2019

(I’m the idiot here. I ask a coworker for clarification about a note he’s written.)

Me: “See, right here by your signature, it says, ‘Xzziz.’ What’s all that about?”

Coworker: “That’s, ‘Extension 2212.’”

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Should Phone Him And Tell Him It’s Wet

, , , , , | Right | December 31, 2018

(I work at an outdoor park that has a lot of rides for kids, including bouncy castles, carousels, and things like that. It’s term time, so we’re quiet, and it’s been raining heavily for the last day. My manager puts me on the bouncy castles, but gives me a bag of kid’s toys to make up while I’m down there. This is quite normal practice at times when it isn’t busy. The bouncy castles have signs on each end warning customers that they’re wet when it rains. I’m keeping an eye on them, but mainly concentrating on making up the toys since we restock heavily during quiet times. A man comes up to me with his daughter, quite well-spoken and dismissive. He’s wearing a membership wristband for the park.)

Man: “You could have told me the bouncy castles were wet! I sat on one, and I’m soaked now!”

Me: “Oh, I’m very sorry, sir. It has been raining for the last day or so, and unfortunately, they don’t dry out that fast. We warn you on the signs there—“ *points* “—and there—“ *points*

Man: “Well, I didn’t see them! I need to go home and change now!”

(He leaves. Maybe if I hadn’t been making up the toys I’d have noticed him and warned him, but he was fairly warned, and he’d only really got the leg of his jeans damp. Half an hour later I’m radioed up to the office by my manager.)

Manager: “[My Name], do you have your phone with you?”

(We get fired on the spot if we have our phones on us on duty, and so lockers are provided for staff.)

Me: “No. I can show you in my locker.”

Manager: “Yes, please. I’m sure you wouldn’t, but we have to check.”

(I open the locker for my manager, and sure enough, the phone is there.)

Manager: “Oh, thank goodness. I wouldn’t have wanted to let you go. It’s just we had this gentleman come up and say you hadn’t warned him about the bouncy castles being wet because you were hunched over on your phone, not paying attention.”

Me: “No, no, I was making up those toys as you asked.”

Manager: “Don’t worry; I believe you. He demanded we give him a free change of clothes from the gift shop. We do have signs down there warning it’s wet!”

Me: “That’s what I told him!”

(I went back to work, and I am still employed at the park to this day. But the man was a member, which means he likely visits a lot and knows the staff policy on phones. So, out of embarrassment over getting a bit wet, or some kind of wounded pride over being corrected by a younger man, he tried to get me sacked. The daughter he was with didn’t seem the slight bit discomfited, but if she was a bit older she might have been embarrassed for her dad.)

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If The Shoe Doesn’t Fit, Throw A Tantrum

, , , , | Right | October 24, 2018

(I work in a charity shop. We can only sell items that have been donated to us. An elderly customer walks in and starts looking at our shoe display.)

Customer: *holds up a shoe* “What’s the size of these?”

Me: *busy with a line of customers waiting to pay* “I don’t know, I’m afraid, if you look in the other shoe there will be a tag with its size.”

Customer: “You work here; you should know.”

(Another customer from the other end of the shop goes to help the lady as I cannot leave the till in the middle of a transaction. He tells her the shoe is a size 8. She huffs and puts the shoe back. She appears right beside me, almost behind the till, as I’m still serving other customers and thrusts another shoe in my face.)

Customer: “Size?”

Me: “I’m really sorry but I am busy with other customers. If you can just wait while I finish here I’ll be happy to help you with looking for shoes.”

Customer: “Fine.”

(She walks off. About ten seconds pass and I am still serving a line of people.)

Customer: “These. What are their size?”

Me: “I am really sorry but I am busy here and cannot help you right this moment. If you’re struggling to read the sizes, why don’t you pick out some that you like and I’ll help you in just a moment.”

(She appears in my face again and thrusts another shoe at me, almost hitting me.)

Customer: “Size. Now.”.

Me: *gently pushes the shoe away from my face* “As I have said, I am busy. Please wait and I will help you when I can.”

(By now, the customers waiting to be served have been waiting a lot longer than they would usually have to because of this woman and are now, like me, starting to get annoyed.)

Customer In Line: “For god’s sake, wait! She’s told you she is busy. And stop putting shoes in her face.”

Customer: “This is none of your business. I need to know shoe sizes. I will wait by the shoes.”

(I smile at the customer who stood up for me and thank her. She tells me I am an asset to the shop for putting up with the woman so well, and then leaves.)

Me: *walks out from behind the counter and to the shoes* “What size are you looking for?”

Customer: “Six.”

(I look at all the shoes after establishing she wants a lace up pair and find we have none that fit her.)

Customer: “Go look in the back. You always have more in the back.”

Me: “Ok, then.”

(At this point I am grateful for the opportunity to get away from her for a minute and tell the manager for the day what has happened.)

Manager: “Well, the only lace up shoes we have back here are too big or too small.”

Me: *smiles* “What a shame!”

(I go back out to the shop and tell the customer we have no shoes to fit her.)

Customer: “This is ridiculous! I need shoes!”

Me: “Unfortunately, as s a charity shop, we can only put out and sell what’s donated to us so if someone with size six feet who likes lace up shoes doesn’t donate their old shoes we can’t sell any.”

Customer: *throws shoe she is holding* “For f*** sake!” *starts walking out of shop*

Me: “Have a wonderful day!”

Customer: “F*** you!”

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