I work in an Internet support center as tier two support. I receive an urgent case saying that a customer’s Internet, installed the day before, is down.

Me: “Hello, this is [My Name] from [Company]. I have a case here saying that your Internet is down?” 

Customer: “Yes! It hasn’t worked at all since you installed it! Your technician did such a terrible job installing it; it doesn’t even work!”

Me: “I’m very sorry to hear that. I can see that your equipment is online. What do you see when you open up a browser window? Does it say that Internet Explorer cannot display the page?”

Customer: “I don’t know. Do I have to turn my computer on to see that?”

Related:
The Internot, Part 3
The Internot, Part 2
The Internot

A customer brings back in a cat scratcher that is completely destroyed.

Customer: “I would like to return this, please.”

Me: “Ah, did it come that way? Do you have your receipt?”

Customer: “No, I don’t. My cat tore this all up; I’d like another one.”

Me: “Was it defective in any way?”

Customer: “Well, my cat tore it up.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not able to return this.”

Customer: “But it didn’t work. Look at it!”

Me: “But it’s a cat scratcher. It seems as though the product worked as intended.”

After a long search, I finally buy a home. As one of the first things a responsible owner should do, I update all my addresses with utilities, bills, and my vehicle registration. The DMV has an online form so I fill it out and send it. I get an auto-confirmation that everything is good and I think nothing more of it. My vehicle renews every October.

The registration never arrives. Thinking something has gone wrong, I go to my insurance which happens to have some DMV functions. The clerk advises that no address change was made and fixes it on her computer, and I pay my fees.

One year later, no registration. I call the DMV and the clerk on the phone repeats my correct address. Now I’m confused that I never got my registration and yet my address is correct. The DMV clerk offers no advice other than that it was likely a glitch. I go back to my insurance to pay fees and the clerk confirms everything is fine address-wise.

About half a year later, it’s time for my driver’s license renewal. Figuring that there’s no way I’m getting that by mail, I make a DMV appointment. One week before the appointment, the renewal arrives! Overjoyed, I cancel the appointment thinking this is all behind me.

A few months later… no vehicle renewal. And thanks to California law, this is the year I need my vehicle SMOG check done; for those unfamiliar, this is a vehicle emissions check. Luckily, they use the vehicle’s VIN but I can’t believe it.

I ask this DMV clerk about this. She says the address was never updated. Huh? So, my online update through your online system didn’t work, the update through my insurance carrier didn’t work, a DMV clerk confirmed my correct address, but no, my address is still incorrect. She tells me to mail it in.

Well, I’m off to get my SMOG check and God only knows what year four will bring!

Back when I am a young teenager and CD players in cars are a new thing, my family goes on a road trip. To prevent fighting, the deal is that every person gets to play one song from their CD and take turns. There is absolutely no voting because we’ve already learned that this just leads to screaming matches when my step-dad doesn’t get his way. My family typically prefers classic rock, but I’m into punk rock.

My step-dad, usually just to be argumentative and whiney, hates every band I like. His song just ended. It’s my turn, and I remove his CD to put mine in.

My step-dad immediately starts whining, not even looking at what CD I’ve used; the song hasn’t started yet.

Step-Dad: “Do I really have to listen to this garbage?! We should skip your turn and play another song from [His CD].”

Me: *Eyeroll* “The song hasn’t started and you’re already whining for another turn? Dude, shut up.”

Mom is checked out and not paying attention.

My step-dad’s face starts to go red how it does right before he starts literally throwing a tantrum. My song starts, and it has a weird intro that sounds like a funny voice speaking pig-Latin. His expression changes and he gets excited about it.

Step-Dad: *Laughing* “Well, you should have told me you were putting on Def Lep—”

The actual song starts, to reveal that it is indeed not classic rock, but rather is a funny punk song about a loser that claims women think he’s cool, For A White Guy. [Step-Dad] hates this song, because he’s painfully insecure about his masculinity and level of coolness and thinks the song is racist.

Step-Dad: *Angry again* “What the h*** is this?! You’re not allowed to listen to this band! I already told you to throw that CD away!”

Me: *Shouts over him* “It’s my turn; I get to pick the song. You’re not my dad; you can’t tell me what I can listen to. Besides, Mom bought this CD for me, so! Shut! Up! And! Deal!”

Mom: *Stops mentally disassociating* “Be quiet, everyone. Just play the CDs like we agreed. No arguing. No voting. Just one at a time.”

I sang along loudly. [Step-Dad] was mad for the rest of the trip and sulked, complete with dirty looks and intentionally turning away from anyone who tried to talk to him. He refused to take his turns because he was too busy pouting. He never seemed to figure out that I prefer his silence over his tantrums, so a cold shoulder from him is a vacation for me!

Customer: “My HD box won’t turn on.”

Me: “Are there any lights showing on the front?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Is the power cord plugged into a wall outlet or a power strip?”

Customer: “The what?”

Me: “The power cord.”

Customer: “There are only two things plugged into the box. You mean a cord with a plug on the end, like a regular power cord?”

Me: “Yes.”

Customer: “I don’t have that. It must have disappeared.”

Me: “There’s no way for the box to work unless it’s getting electrical power.”

Customer: “Are you sure?”

Related:
Powerless To Help