Underaged And Over Confident

, , , , , | Right | May 25, 2020

My boyfriend works as a waiter at a local restaurant and bar. At ten o’clock pm on weekends, the kitchen closes and the bar stays open for another four hours. At this time, they post the two guys at the front and back entrance to check ID, as you have to be twenty-one to get in for the night.

I am at home when my boyfriend gets off work around 9:30, and he calls to ask if I want to meet up with him at the bar since he ran into an old friend of ours. Ecstatic, I agree. 

I get there and sit down with them a little after ten, when the door guys were just posted. Beyond [Boyfriend] and [Friend], there are three other girls I don’t recognize, although [Boyfriend] mentions he knows everyone but one from various places. Let’s call her [Customer]. She ends up sitting at the end of the table, not drinking anything, and just texting on her phone, which doesn’t matter to me at the time.

About ten minutes into us catching up, joking around, and having a good time while talking about trying out a new bar a few blocks down, [Door Guy #2] comes up to our table and goes to the girl on her phone.

Door Guy #2: “Hey, are you [Customer]?”

Customer: “Yeah?”

[Door Guy #2] pulls out his phone.

Door Guy #2: “Okay, well, I just got these messages you just sent to my sister about being underage and sneaking in here, so, is this you?”

Customer: “Well, yeah, that’s me, but no, I didn’t send them.”

We’re all watching, confused at this, because he’s showing the messages to us, things like, “lol tell your husband [Door Guy #1] that I’m twenty-one,” and, “got in before the kitchen closed and now I’m in here underage!” She’d sent these to the wife of [Door Guy #1], who happened to be the sister of [Door Guy #2], knowing she was the wife of one of the guys checking ID at the door. We had no idea she was underage, and on top of it, she begins to now argue with him, raising her voice into a shriek. [Door Guy #2] is patient but firm.

Door Guy #2: “Okay, well it’s after kitchen close, and you have to be twenty-one to be in here.”

Customer: “But [Door Guy #1] let me in!”

Door Guy #2: “And I’m asking you to leave. You can’t be in here now if you’re under twenty-one.”

Customer: “But I turn twenty-one in eight days!”

Door Guy #2: “Okay, then come see me in eight days. You need to leave. I don’t care if the rest of you stay.”

All her friends chime in at this point about how they are going to another bar anyway and they can walk her to her car. She wants to argue some more, but they finally convince her to go. I decide I don’t want to deal with any of that, so I stay and hang out with another friend I met and cool down since I’m pretty embarrassed.

My boyfriend offers to walk them to the other bar, so he’s there with them when they go outside. She immediately turns on him since he works there.

Customer: “This is so stupid! They can’t kick me out like this!”

Boyfriend: “Yes, they can. You have to be twenty-one to be there after the restaurant closes, and you aren’t.”

Customer: “Yeah, but I got let in!”

Boyfriend: “Before it closed, when you still could have ordered food. But it’s 10:30 now; he had every right to kick you out.”

Customer: “I wasn’t even drinking!”

Boyfriend: “Yes, but you decided to stupidly text and brag about being in there underage. We could lose our liquor license for that if you had gotten a drink! If you hadn’t said anything, I’m sure they would have let you sit there with your friends for a while, but having text evidence like that is dumb.”

Customer: “I just don’t think it’s right that they kicked me out! I turn twenty-one in eight days! You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m calling the manager.”

She pulls out her phone right there and calls the bar manager to complain about being kicked out of a bar for being underage not once, but three times that night. Every time, the bar manager basically tells her to bugger off. Later in the night, we catch up with the Door Guys, who roll their eyes about the whole thing.

Door Guy #1: “If you actually sneak into a bar underage, why would you be stupid enough to text someone both the doormen are related to and brag about it?”

Door Guy #2: “I dunno, but she did do us a huge favor! [Bar Manager] is going to tell the owner that we had three separate calls tonight congratulating us on doing our jobs!”

Door Guy #1: “After this stunt, she might even get banned.”

Door Guy #2: “What a dumba**.”

I haven’t the slightest idea on if she actually got banned, but she did ruin it for everyone else and now her friends won’t go out with her after the scene she made. She can find another bar. Good riddance.

1 Thumbs
108

Pick Up A Book: An OSHA Handbook

, , , , , | Working | May 25, 2020

I work at a big chain bookstore. One morning, we come in to discover a large chunk of concrete has fallen through the ceiling in the business section. We cordon off the area, warning all customers — cue customers, “But I know what I need! Couldn’t you just run in there real quick?” — and at around midday a contractor comes in to take a look at it.

We’re told the area was stabilized and we shouldn’t have any other rocks falling, but word also gets around that he found up there an old form of insulation known to contain asbestos.

We’re all expecting an immediate store shut-down, but the general manager hems and haws and stalls, saying that he needs to be in touch with higher management to decide what to do. 

The next day, we’re back in as usual — now worried about getting cancer, rather than being knocked out by falling concrete. After a few hours, a call comes in over the walkies we all use to communicate:

“[General Manager], there’s a representative from OSHA on line two. OSHA, line two.”

The store is closed for several days.

1 Thumbs
147

These Scammers Are Just Sick

, , , , | Legal | May 25, 2020

I’m at my grandma’s house one day, helping her go through some stuff. While she’s not very tech-savvy, she’s still pretty smart and knows when something’s up. She also has no problems wasting someone’s time if she knows they’re up to no good.

The phone rings, and she answers. I can hear the caller on the other end.

Grandma: “Hello?”

Caller: “Yes, this is [Caller] at Microsoft. Your computer has a bug.”

My grandma rolls her eyes.

Grandma: “A bug? But I’m not sick!”

Caller: “No, not a sick bug. It’s like a glitch. We can fix it for you, though.”

Grandma: “Really? How can you fix it?”

Caller: “Are you at your computer?”

We’re both in the kitchen, with the closest computer halfway across the house.

Grandma: “Yes, I am.”

Caller: “Can you open the start menu? It’ll be the icon with the squares in the bottom left corner.”

Grandma: “Okay, it’s open.” 

The caller then gives instructions on what commands to enter. If done, it would allow him remote access to the computer. When it comes time to actually input the final steps:

Grandma: “Actually, can you hold on? My show’s about to come on.”

Caller: “Ma’am, it’s very important that we fix this now. This bug could ruin your computer.”

Grandma: “Really?”

Caller: “Yes, ma’am. You could lose everything on the computer.”

Grandma: “Huh, because ten minutes ago I ran [Security Software], and it came back fine. I also know Microsoft doesn’t call about computer bugs. Do people actually still fall for that? Next, you’ll be some prince trying to send me millions!”

The caller is silent for a moment and then hangs up. My grandma puts the phone down.

Grandma: “Bug, my a**.”

1 Thumbs
163

Wish They’d Never Been Born

, , , , | Right | May 25, 2020

I work as a receptionist in a university archive. Detailed descriptions of all our collections are online, so users often call or email to ask about documents they want to use for research. Every once in a while, we get a really weird question.

Me: “[Archive], how can I help you?”

Caller: “Hi. I need a copy of my birth certificate.”

Me: “I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong number. This is the archive at [University].”

Caller: “I know. I was born at [Hospital], but it closed in the seventies and Google says that you have their records. How do I get a copy of my birth certificate?”

Me: “Ma’am, all the documents we have in that collection are about the founding and administration of the hospital, because of its historical value. We certainly don’t have patient records!”

Caller: “Well, why not? Where did they go?”

Me: “I don’t think that would be legal. Maybe the records were sent to patients’ primary care doctors? I really don’t know.”

She asks me two more times where the hospital’s patient records from over fifty years ago went, all the while complaining that they should be with us.

Caller: “Then where can I get a copy of my birth certificate?”

Me: “I’m not sure. I think town or county registrars usually keep those kinds of records, so maybe you should try them?”

Caller: “You’re just no help at all!”

She hung up on me.

I’ll Have What He Had

, , , , , , | Working | May 25, 2020

I live in a state where recreational marijuana is legal. I’m ordering from a restaurant that’s popular with the stoner crowd and the people who work there are usually a little hazy themselves. For this reason, I’m usually pretty thorough about making sure everything I order is correct.

The delivery guy has just delivered my food and, to my surprise, everything is correct. I sit down to eat when I get a call.

Me: “Hello?”

Delivery Guy: “Hey, man, it’s your driver from [Restaurant]. I’m so sorry, man! I took your food to the wrong house!”

Me: “What? No, you didn’t.”

Delivery Guy: “You had [correct order], right?”

Me: *Pause* “Yeah?”

Delivery Guy: “I’m really sorry! I’m running back to the restaurant right now; I’ll be right there.”

Me: “No, dude, I’m telling you, I have everything I ordered right in front of me. I’m in the middle of eating it!”

Delivery Guy: “No, it’s totally my bad. Don’t worry.”

Me: “Listen to me. I just saw you! You handed the food to me! My name is on the receipt!” 

Delivery Guy: “Sorry. It’s going to be, I don’t know, like, ten more minutes.”

Me: “Please, I’m telling you: I paid, you gave me the food, and it’s all perfect. You don’t have to do anything. We’re all good.”

Delivery Guy: “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just been a long night. But I’m almost back at the restaurant now, so I won’t be too long.”

Me: “Really, it’s okay. I don’t need anything-”

Delivery Guy: “It’s no problem. Just… Oh, wait…”

He is silent for a good few seconds.

Delivery Guy: “My bad! Have a good night!” *Click*

I never figured out what he thought was going on. The food was great, though!

1 Thumbs
157