Your Attempt At Free Food In Freefall

, , , , , | Right | November 18, 2017

(I’m working as a pizza delivery driver on a particularly busy night. I’m driving my mom’s minivan for work. On this run, I have to take three deliveries due to the volume of orders. I arrive at my third destination beyond the estimated time.)

Disgruntled Customer: “Well, this pizza’s pretty late. Don’t you think I should get it for free now?”

Me: “I’m not su—”

Disgruntled Customer: *in a voice a five-year-old would use to mock someone* “Ehehehe, I’m not sure.”

Me: “Well, sir, I’m not authorized to give out the food for free, so if you’d like to discuss it, I will need you to sign the receipt, and then you can talk with the general manager on the matter.”

Disgruntled Customer: “Yeah, I’ll do that. What took you so long, anyway?”

Me: “We are busy right now, so I had to take three deliveries at once, and yours just happened to be the last in the lineup.”

Disgruntled Customer: “I would think a delivery boy could come up with a better excuse than that. I’m giving you a tip, but I don’t know why, anyway.” *shoves the receipt in my face*

Me: “Thank you, sir. I do appreciate it.”

Disgruntled Customer: *slams door*

(I return to the restaurant and inform my GM that the man was upset and will be calling in to discuss getting a free meal, when my shift leader chimes in.)

Shift Leader: “Was it the guy from [address]?”

Me: “Yeah, that’s him.”

Shift Leader: “That guy’s always trying to get free food from us. He wanted his wings for free because we didn’t give him exactly even wings and drumsticks with his chicken.”

(Apparently, the guy would come up with excuses anytime he ordered to try and get his food for free. Since that instance though, I haven’t heard from him.)

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Taking A Big Bite Out Of Your Parenting

, , , , , , | Friendly | November 18, 2017

(I am kneeling in a bookstore looking for a particular book, and there is a mother with a toddler nearby. The mother is absorbed in her book. Suddenly her toddler runs up to me, then grabs and BITES DOWN ON MY BOOB — and I feel teeth!)

Me: *yelps* “What the f***?!”

Mother: *whips her head around like Linda Blair, glaring at me* “Excuse me! Don’t swear in front of my kid!”

Me: “Your kid just bit me!” *I stand up and gesture where he bit me*

Mother: “Oh, he must’ve been hungry.”

Me: “What? That’s not okay!”

Employee: *investigating the commotion* “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

Me: “I—”

Mother: “It’s nothing really; she’s overreacting. Some people just can’t handle children.”

(With that, she picks up her kid and walks off like it was nothing. I explain to the employee what happened.)

Employee: “Oh… uh… Do you need—” *he gestures, clearly flustered* “—I mean, are you—”

Me: “It’s fine. Just… I’ll be going.”

(I never ran into that woman or her kid again, but since then I’ve been very wary of toddlers that aren’t being watched closely — once bitten, twice shy, I guess!)

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The Wireless Age Completely Passed Them By

, , , , | Right | November 18, 2017

(I work in a call center helping customers with networking equipment such as routers, range extenders, access points, and more.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Company] support. What is the product you’re calling about today?”

Customer: “I just want to say, first off, that your products are terrible. I have been trying to set up this stupid extender for six hours now, and I am not a stupid person. I have worked as a technician for 16 years, and I know what I’m doing, but I can’t get this thing to work.”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear you’re having difficulties, sir. I am more than happy to assist you with your setup. First, may I have the model number for your product?”

Customer: “It’s a RAAAANGE EXTEEEEENDER! I already told you this!”

Me: “Yes, I understand, sir, but we have several different models, and I need a unique model number so I know which product you are working with.”

Customer: *groaning sounds* “Fine. It’s [model number].”

Me: “Okay. How far into the setup have you gotten, and what kind of errors are you running into?”

Customer: “I can’t get to the stupid website I need to get to for the setup.”

Me: “Okay, so, you’re having difficulties getting to the networking dashboard. What type of device are you using for the setup?”

Customer: “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Me: “Are you using a smartphone, tablet, or computer to access the dashboard?”

Customer: “Computer.”

Me: “Okay, and are you able to see the [device] network and connect to it?”

Customer: “Well, how do I do that?”

Me: *pause* “Pull up your list of available networks on your computer, look for [Network], and then hit, ‘Connect.’ If you can’t see that network just let me know.”

Customer: “How do I pull up a list of networks? This really shouldn’t be such a complicated setup! I have been a technician for 16 years, and I know what I’m doing! I have worked with networking equipment before! Your products are too complicated!”

Me: “I’m sorry you feel that way, sir. Does this computer have Wi-Fi capabilities? Or does it only connect by Ethernet?”

Customer: “Wi-Fi? What’s Ethernet? Look, this is getting ridiculous. I should be able to plug this in and it should just work. I am not stupid, so I know what I’m doing.”

Me: “I never said you were stupid, sir. It needs to be configured to your home network in order to work. The dashboard is built into the device’s IP address, and you need to be connected to the network in order to get to the dashboard. How do you normally connect to a network to get your Internet service on this computer?”

Customer: “I click on the ‘E’ at the bottom of my screen.”

Me: *trying to think of the best way to dumb this down for the customer* “Okay, sir, that is your web browser. Sounds like you use [Browser #1] or [Browser #2]. In order for your Internet to work, your computer needs to be connected to a network.” *attempts to walk customer through how to connect*

Customer: “This is the most ridiculous thing ever. I am not stupid! I have never had so much trouble setting up a product in my life, and I’ve been a technician for 16 years! I am not a stupid person, and I know what I’m doing! This is too complicated. I’m about to throw this thing out a window. You know what? Just forget it! I am returning this stupid piece of crap and getting something that isn’t so complicated from one of your competitors!” *click*

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Unfiltered Story #100036

, , | Unfiltered | November 18, 2017

I have a history of coughing up blood for no particular reason. Despite a lack of a diagnosis explaining why it happens, its happened three times. Two out of the three times, it was copious amounts. The first time, it happened when I was 16 and within a few hours, coughed up several cups before I was able to get to a hospital. A vein in my right lung had burst! The docs never figured out why it happened, but it happened again when I was 18. Fortunately, it was only a few mouthfuls – it ended up just being a busted capillary. Then it happened when I was 22.

I had dealt with multiple nurses and doctors in the ER down the street telling me I was probably just over exaggerating, which was incredibly infuriating. To prove that I was telling the truth, I began to collect the blood by spitting it into a container, and keeping the container in the fridge. It was disgusting. Between Wednesday afternoon and Friday morning, I had coughed up and collected almost two cups of blood.

I had a bronchoscopy at a different hospital go bad – a negative reaction to the light anesthesia they gave me – so they sent me back to the ER to get myself admitted. It was then that I dealt with the most stuck up doctor in my life.

I had no makeup on (obviously, who has time to worry about that when one’s life is possibly on the line), and in the past that’s led people to mistake me for a high schooler more than once. It seemed to fool this doctor too, unfortunately. He approached me with a haughty, unbelieving demeanor, and treated me like some sort of hysterical, loony teen.

I started arguing with him about my honesty in the situation, and it began to escalate to a frustrated yelling match. While I regret resorting to yelling at a doctor, I don’t regret how this ended. Not one bit.

I finally reached a breaking point, and yanked my purse from my mother’s arms, shoved the container of blood at the doctor, and screamed.


The doctor’s face went completely white as he gaped at me, stared at the container, looked back at me, and took it to run out of the room. Another doctor came in right then, and the first doc grabbed his arm to drag him out with him. They closed the door behind them, but there was a huge window in the door, so I could see both of them holding up the container, arguing, and acting generally panicked.

Join the club, dudes.

When Doctor Jerkface came back in, he had a huge change in attitude: sweet, attentive, eager to help.

Doctor: “Alright honey, don’t you worry, we’re going to admit you to the ICU right away. We’re going to take care of you and figure out why this is happening.”

I let myself become the smug jerk in the room, and gave him a victorious smirk.

Me: “You’re damn right you’re going to.”

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Unfiltered Story #100034

, | Unfiltered | November 18, 2017

(My sister has had a terrible few years culminating in her leaving the army due to “failing to adapt” to training in a combat oriented job despite having been told she’d just be a translator. She’s too empathetic for that kind of thing and the training was hard for her kind heart. Unbeknownst to my family, she became depressed.

But one day, she and I have an argument, and I get a weird feeling. I ask her if she’s going to hurt herself. I tell her if she ever does anything to herself, I’ll do the same to myself. Later I get a call from her saying she took a lot of Benadryl in an attempt to kill herself. I send her to the emergency room and follow in a car behind the ambulance. When I get there, I hear screaming behind the doors to the ER from the waiting room and I know it’s her but the receptionist pretends she couldn’t hear it. Finally I’m allowed back.)

Nurse, attempting to pin my sister to the medical bed: “You need to hold still and cooperate!”

My sister, shirtless, terrified and still drugged, crying: “No!” She sees me and cries, “[Sister], save me!”

I’m standing there helpless, at a loss, crying. My sister gently pushes the nurse off her and runs back to the bathroom to hide in the corner with her shirt clutched to her chest. The nurse tries to follow and I stop her. My sister just spent time in the military and in my mind it’s a miracle she hasn’t hurt this woman already.

Nurse: “She needs to change into a medical gown and get her blood drawn so we can see how much she took!”

My sister has a phobia of needles.

Me: “Let me talk to her.”

Nurse: “She needs to cooperate! Either I can do it or I can call an anesthetist. That,” she’s angry and ranting at me, “that is not the behavior of someone under the influence of Benadryl!”

Me, now angry: “No. That is my sister, and she is hurt and scared. Now you need to back off and let me talk to her. You said she needs her blood drawn? Just a minute. Stay out here.”

Me, coming into the bathroom: “I know you’re scared. That nurse is a f****** jerk, but you do need to have your blood drawn to see how much you have in your system. Either the nurse can draw your blood, or anesthetist can do it. Which would you like?”

Sister, shakily: “Anesthetist.”

We walk out and she lays down on the table and holds her arm out. I ask if it’s okay for me to hold her and she agrees, so I take her other hand and put my arm around her shoulders and she hides her face in my neck while the anesthetist draws her blood. That’s when the nurse finally seems to feel some sympathy for my sister.

However, when our family arrives and after the doctor is with my sister, she asks my parents a bunch of nosy questions and then asks why we didn’t see this coming. That’s when we finally ask to speak to the head nurse. I know that our worst day is the ER nurse’s every day, and I don’t know what the training is on handling people like that, but a modicum of empathy goes a long way with a lot of people even if they’re under the influence. A couple years later, my sister is okay now, and she knows we love and need her.