I work at a tax office doing people’s taxes. My signature phone greeting is, “Hello, this is [My Name] at [Company]. How can I help?”
I’m on the line with tech support and I’m waiting on hold. All of a sudden, the hold stops.
Tech Support: “Hello?”
Me: “Hello, this is [My Name] at [Company]. How can I help?” *Pauses* “Wait! You’re supposed to be helping ME!”
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This Is Your Brain On Autopilot, Part 2
This Is Your Brain On Autopilot
I am checking out at an outdoor retailer, and I hand over my dividend card to get credit for the purchase.
Cashier: “Huh, [My Last Name]. I’ve only ever seen that name once. That was my fourth-grade teacher, but she left to have a baby.”
Me: “Oh, yeah? Did you grow up in [Town]?”
Cashier: “Yeah, how’d you know?”
Me: *Waves* “Hi, I’m the baby!”
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I’m a molecular biologist, and my team is excited about a new collaboration with a lab at a university. Basically, we can make a material that no one else can, and the university lab has a certain machine and the expertise to use it, and there are very promising reasons why we’d like to put our material through their machine.
But first, lawyers have to agree that we can do this. I understand the necessity of having unambiguous agreements in place between the two entities, but the level of roadblock is getting absurd. We’ve been having a teleconference with the university scientists every two weeks, preparing for the glorious day when we can see how our material reacts to their machine. As soon as the lawyers say, “Go,” we can ship our material that day and get results the next.
Yet the process drags on for weeks and then months. And the biggest part of the problem is my company’s lawyer. We only have one — it’s a small company — and he’s the CEO’s son. He became the company’s lawyer the moment he graduated law school, and while he’s a reasonably nice guy, he’s also not especially motivated to expedite anything. Oh, and criticizing him in front of his father is a quick trip to unemployment.
All we need him to do is sign a document. He needs to read the document and sign it, and then we can begin our research. The university’s lawyers finished this ages ago. But every time we ask our lawyer, he’s too busy, or he’ll get to it later, or some other excuse. My favorite:
Me: “So, is there anything else you need from us in order to sign the agreement? Anything we can help with?”
Lawyer: “Nah. I just have to do it.”
I think, “YES, EXACTLY, YOU LAZY TURD! YOU JUST HAVE TO DO IT!”
After about nine months, the university lawyers gave up, and the project never started. One of my motivating factors for leaving that company was seeing a spreadsheet I wasn’t meant to see and learning that [Lawyer] made a higher salary than any of the scientists, including department heads thirty years older than him.
I was grocery shopping on a busy weekend. I considered myself lucky to find a line with only two customers in it. The person in front was already paying, so they were basically done. The other customer was a lady with a pretty full cart, but I figured the wait wouldn’t be too bad with just one person, compared to the other lines backed down the aisles.
The first customer finished up right as I got in line. I saw the lady was pushing an empty cart in front of her while also pulling the completely loaded grocery cart behind her. There was also a pile of disposable chucks — like the kind you’d see in a hospital or to house train puppies on — sticking out of the cart, and I noticed that all the groceries currently on the conveyor were on top of the same chucks. The cashier greeted the customer, who then pulled what was presumably her own gallon-sized sanitizer from the bottom of the cart and had both the cashier and the bagger sanitize their hands with two massive squirts. She then handed each of them a pair of disposable gloves and would not proceed until they put the gloves on — and then she gave them more sanitizer on top of the gloves!
I then witnessed one of the most insane checkout experiences of my life. I try to have empathy and not to judge the different things people are doing to feel safe, but this was something else.
Everything — not just produce but boxes of cereal, cake mix, peanut butter, etc. — was already in what looked like at least two plastic produce bags. Even though they were already wearing gloves, the customer still did not want the cashier or bagger touching her things directly. She made the bagger hold a plastic bag to pick up her already bagged items, scan them, then pass them off to the bagger.
The bagger, however, couldn’t just hold the bag open to receive the items but had to hold a separate bag to touch the items and then use that bag to put them into double bags. She also interrupted them every few items to make them re-sanitize their hands. The bagger then placed each bag — which had to be about 40% plastic bag and 60% actual grocery content — into the empty cart, now lined with more disposable chucks, where the customer would wipe each bag down with a Clorox wipe.
At one point, the customer shoved what looked to me like twenty or thirty empty produce bags on the conveyor belt and told them to — you guessed it — bag the bags.
I’m pretty sure every single other customer who came into the grocery store at the same time as me had already left by the time this lady was all checked out. I considered moving lanes several times, but human stubbornness being what it is, after fifteen or so minutes I just decided I was in for the long haul, no matter what.
At the end of the transaction, she asked for help to her car. The bagger volunteered to do it, probably figuring it would save someone else getting subjected to this lady. I would’ve thought he had been sanitized enough at this point. Nope. She made him change his gloves and slather the new gloves with more sanitizer on the way out!
When it was finally my turn, I asked the cashier if that customer came through often. He said, “I’ve never had her until now, but yeah, she comes once a week or so. Chewed out my manager last time for suggesting she just get her groceries delivered. Sorry for the wait.”
I tried to give the guy a tip, but he said they weren’t allowed to accept. God bless the essential workers, for real.
Someone from my office was kind enough to bring donuts from a local shop. Being diabetic, I have to be careful what I eat, but I’ve decided that these donuts smell so good I’ll just eat one and take extra insulin. I grab a donut, put it on my desk, and then head to the restroom to inject my insulin. When I return to my desk, I only see an empty paper towel where my donut once was and [Coworker] at his desk.
Me: “[Coworker], did you see who took my donut?”
Coworker: *Defensively* “Diabetics can’t have sugar.”
Me: “We can. We just have to account for it with insulin. Where is my donut?”
Coworker: “I ate it to save you from yourself.”
He has already had two donuts after convincing another coworker that he should not have snacks that would throw off his diet, and mine now makes three. I try to keep my cool, but I hate when people interfere with my medical regimen.
Me: “[Coworker], you had no right to take my donut. I just took insulin so I could eat and now—”
Coworker: “I was helping you!”
Me: “No, you were helping yourself.”
I walk back to the break room, hoping there will be one more donut. There isn’t; the boxes were empty. I stand there for a moment, thinking of what I can do to account for the sugar I was planning on eating. [Manager] walks in.
Manager: “Oh, I was hoping there were more donuts.”
Me: “Yeah. Me, too.”
I begin digging through the cupboard, hoping someone left a snack I could buy from them. Nothing is there. I let out a frustrated groan.
Manager: “What’s wrong?”
I recount everything that has just happened.
Me: “And now I need to find something sugary or I’m going to be in trouble.”
Manager: “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to go sit in my office, and I’ll have [Secretary] keep an eye on you while I’m gone. I’m going down the street to [Donut Shop] to get two more donuts — one for you, one for me. We will eat them in my office, and once we know you’re okay to work again, I will talk to [Coworker].”
I inhaled my donut in record time and thankfully avoided a medical disaster. Though I was not in the room when [Manager] spoke to [Coworker], I heard that he laid down the law with no exceptions. [Coworker] grudgingly apologized for taking my donut but did not speak to me otherwise for several days.
