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Growing Your Garden Of Love

, , , , , , | Working | July 20, 2021

It’s a few minutes before four when my supervisor turns to me. 

Supervisor: “Can you cover [Coworker] in gardening for her break?”

Me: “Actually, I’m out now.”

Supervisor: “Oh! What was your shift today?”

Me: “Ten to four.”

Supervisor: “Can you stay?”

Me: “Well, my husband just got home today and I haven’t seen him all week—”

Supervisor: “GIRL, GO.”

Sub-Standard Sub-Service, Part 7

, , , , | Right | July 20, 2021

I work at the customer service desk at a large retailer with a sub shop, nail salon, and bank in the building. The phone rings.

Me: “[Store] Customer Service.”

Caller: “I want a refund.”

Me: “Okay, what did you buy and when?”

Caller: “I ordered [Sub] and it was disgusting.”

Me: “Umm, you ordered it?”

Caller: “Yes!”

Me: “From [Store]?”

Caller: “Yes!”

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. We sell premade subs but—”

Caller:No, you don’t.”

Me: “Ah, did you order from [Sub Shop]?”

Caller: “Yes. Jesus, no wonder you only make minimum wage!”

Me: “Well, ma’am, if you want a refund from [Sub Shop], you have to call them, not [Store].”

Customer: “Oh. I thought you could just transfer me.”

Me: “No, you have to call them directly.”

Silence for a few seconds, then…

Customer: “Well, you’re still stupid.” *Hangs up*

Related:
Sub-Standard Sub-Service, Part 6
Sub-Standard Sub-Service, Part 5
Sub-Standard Sub-Service, Part 4
Sub-Standard Sub-Service, Part 3
Sub-Standard Sub-Service, Part 2

If I Was Their Parent, I’d Have Ripped That Teacher A New One

, , , , , | Learning | July 20, 2021

I attended a Catholic school my entire primary school life, kindergarten to twelfth grade. Due to the mandatory cutoff date for when you can start school, I’m one of the youngest in my class; I was four when I started kindergarten.

In 1979, when I was five years old and in the first grade, I had a nun for a teacher. Our school required us to get book covers for all our textbooks. So, being young and not very neat, I pulled out one of my books for class, and the book cover was torn. Keep in mind this was a paper cover and the book was a hardcover, so there was no damage to the book itself.

The teacher looked at my book cover and then at me.

Teacher: “You’re going to Hell for having a ripped book cover.”

She walked away, and I was left terrified, a five-year-old told by my teacher that I was going to Hell. I couldn’t even tell my parents because they would take the teacher’s side.

And some people wonder why I stopped going to church when I was eighteen. This wasn’t the only reason, but it was probably the first.

Zombies Need Bank Accounts, Too

, , , , | Right | July 19, 2021

Me: “Good afternoon, thank you for calling [Bank]. This is [My Name]. Whom do I have the pleasure of helping today?”

Customer: “Hi, I’m [Customer], and I’m just calling to see if you all think I’m dead.”

Me: “Um… What?”

Customer: “I just want to make sure that you all don’t think I’m dead. You see, I recently had an issue with [Different Bank], and when I went in to resolve it, they informed me that I’m dead. But I’m not and I want to make sure you guys don’t think that, as well.”

Me: *Trying not to laugh* “Well, you sound very alive to me, but let me check your account.” *Checks the account* “Looks like we have you listed as alive and well!”

Customer: “Oh, good. You know, my mortgage is with [Different Bank], and if they’re saying I’m dead, then I shouldn’t have to pay on it anymore!” *Laughs*

Me: *Laughing with the customer* “It’s definitely strange that they think you’re dead.”

Customer: “Really is. You know… I should be careful. If everyone thinks I’m dead, my wife might just attach some cinder blocks to my feet, toss me in the river, and make it official!”

The Curse Of Cursive

, , , , | Working | July 19, 2021

I’m minding my own business one day when a coworker, out of the blue, asks me:

Coworker: “Do you know how to write cursive?”

I’m in my mid-twenties while my coworker is in her sixties. This coworker is also kind of annoying at times and has an “I am always right” personality.

Me: “I can if I have to. I’m a lot better with the lower case letters than the upper case letters and I usually just do my upper case letters in print. But I never need to write in cursive except to sign my name.”

Coworker: “So, no, you can’t.”

Me: “I can. I just never do because I don’t have to.”

Coworker: “Can you read cursive?”

Me: “Mostly. I sometimes struggle with certain letters but I can usually figure it out from context. My mom writes in cursive a lot, and at my last job, one of my coworkers wrote in a mix of cursive and chicken scratch. I was one of the few who could mostly read her handwriting.”

Coworker: “See, young people nowadays can’t read cursive at all. How are they supposed to know what the Constitution says? It’s written in cursive. If they plead the fifth amendment, they won’t be able to read it.”

Me: “All they have to do is pull out their phone and go, ‘Siri, what does the fifth amendment say?’”

Coworker: “I suppose they can, but that’s hearsay.”

I roll my eyes.

Coworker: “I suppose you never learned it in school.”

Me: “I did, in third grade, but I never had to use it. The last time I wrote in cursive was in high school when I took the SATs. They made us write two or three sentences in cursive before we could take the test, saying we weren’t going to cheat.”

Coworker: “See, when I was in school, they taught us cursive and then everything had to be in cursive.”

Me: “Well, now, everything is typed, so people don’t need to know how to read and write in cursive. Teachers are picky about fonts now. They usually require one of three ‘professional-looking’ fonts: Times New Roman, Calibri, and I forget the third one that I was allowed to pick from. I always chose Times New Roman because I think it looks the best.”

Coworker: “Times New Roman is the font they use in newspapers because everyone can read it. But still, you young people can’t read cursive, and I guess all of my written instructions are just going to be ignored because they can’t read cursive here.”

While she’s ranting, I grab a scrap piece of paper and write, “I can write in cursive when I want,” on it in cursive. It’s a bit sloppy because I haven’t written in cursive in such a long time, but it’s legible.

Coworker: “Hm. See, I would write it like this.”

She writes the same thing in neat cursive.

Me: “I haven’t used it since high school!”