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A Bullet You Wish You Could Dodge

, , , , | Working | October 19, 2021

I work for a small company in a niche engineering field with even more niche specialization. Our sales and marketing director has worked in this engineering field for over fifteen years, and yet, she has no desire to learn anything about what she is supposed to be selling. She does latch onto keywords and misuse them like no tomorrow, though. Think using “cold gas thrusters” to describe the entire rocket. And if you try to clarify terms, good luck! She will yell at you for treating her like she is stupid.

Today, it is “bulletproof code”.

Director: “We need some internal demos once the code is what I call ‘bulletproof.'”

Me: *Thinking* “Code is never bulletproof.”

Coworker: “Sounds good.”

Director: “We really need some bulletproof code for these demos so we can start selling. The code must be bulletproof.”

She went on and on about bulletproof code, asking us when the code would be “bulletproof”. And this wasn’t some small algorithm. This was a complex piece of code that needed to be used for over a hundred different specialized cases. But she kept going on and on and on about how it needed to be “bulletproof”.

She wasn’t happy when she didn’t get anything that day like she thought she was requesting. No, she is not capable of learning. And no, no one wants to ask for clarification.

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But Did He Use His Blinkers?

, , , , | Romantic | October 19, 2021

I was getting ingredients out of the fridge and my husband wanted something from the cabinet next to it. He started going, “BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!” like a reversing truck as he approached behind me, letting me know he was there. He stopped beeping and I had what I needed from the fridge, so I pivoted to get out of the way and close the door. I slammed right into him.

After I finally stopped laughing:

Me: “I thought you were gone! You stopped beeping!”

Husband: “I stopped beeping because I shifted into park!”

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Karma, Thy Name Is Porsche

, , , , | Right | October 19, 2021

A man swaggers through the front doors of our bookstore

Mr. Porsche: “I have a book put on hold under [Mr. Porsche].”

Me: *After searching* “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t seem to find it.”

Mr. Porsche: “I called here ten minutes ago and the lady said she had it in her hand.”

I call the information desk, because sometimes the hold doesn’t actually make it across the thirty feet of floor space to the registers where holds are. There are no holds waiting for a trip to Registers. No one remembers talking to a [Mr. Porsche]. No one recalls handling a book of that title.

Mr. Porsche: *Getting agitated* “I called here and the lady had it in her hand! She said it would be under [Mr. Porsche]! Her name was [Employee].”

Me: “Er, we don’t have an [Employee] working at our store. Are you sure you called us and not in [Other City starting with the same letter] or [Competitor] bookstore? They’re right next to our number in the phonebook.”

Mr. Porsche: “NO! I CALLED HERE! Hurry up and find my f****** book! My Porsche is parked in front of your store doors! I’m blocking three cars in, so just hurry the f*** up!”

I’m stunned. Some people!

Me: “Sir, I highly advise you to park your car, legally, in our parking lot rather than risk a ticket. Security patrols every few minutes.”

Mr. Porsche: “I don’t want my Porsche to get a door ding, so hurry up and find my book!”

I struggle not to knock my own head off with an epic facepalm. I search book by book in our holds, but there’s nothing under his name. Nothing even similar to his name. No titles even remotely close to the title he claims is on hold.

He’s getting louder and more aggressive, banging his hands on the desk, and insisting that he is not wrong, he did call our store, that [Employee] does in fact work here, and I [expletive] need to [expletive] hurry the [expletive] up.

An Info Desk employee comes over to tell him that 1) they have searched for the title and not found it in our database, confirming that he didn’t call us because we literally don’t even carry that book, and 2) that the book is indeed on hold at [Competitor], two miles down the road.

Insert rant to the effect of: Wrong! Info Person is a liar, so “this b****” (meaning me) needs to hurry up and find it, because we’re a bookstore; therefore, we carry books, and it has to be here and he’s not moving until—

Cue the beeping of a tow truck outside our doors.

Mr. Porsche: “S***!”

He bolted out the door and a yelling fight ensued between [Mr. Porsche], security — who happened to be writing [Mr. Porsche] a ticket — and the tow truck driver.

[Mr. Porsche] returned several days later to scream at our managers because it was OUR fault that his illegally parked Porsche incurred a ticket and nearly got towed away. He was subsequently trespassed and banned by the police due to his stubborn refusal to a) stop swearing, b) stop screaming at the top of his lungs, and c) stop becoming aggressive and violent by using hardback books as missiles.

And I had so naively thought that bookstores would be the calmer option in the world of retail.

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And Now I’m Craving Donuts, Too. Thanks.

, , , , , , , | Related | October 19, 2021

One night while we are doing dishes, my wife mentions really having a craving for donuts from a certain shop she likes that’s a bit of a drive away from our house. I decide I want to be nice and surprise her, so I get up early and drive to the donut shop. While I’m waiting in line, my father walks in.

Me: “Hey, what are you doing here?”

Dad: “[Mother] mentioned she was craving donuts from here and I got up early to surprise her. What about you?” 

Me: “[Wife] was craving donuts.”

Just then, my brother-in-law walks in and is surprised to see us.

Me: “Let me guess, [Sister] was craving donuts?”

He nods.

Me: “Just out of curiosity, do you guys start drooling when you hear bells like I do?” 

Turns out my wife, mom, and sister had gone out to lunch the day before and all of our “surprises” weren’t as much our idea as we had thought.

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You Did Your Part

, , , | Right | October 19, 2021

This comes at the tail end of taking an order over the phone.

Caller: “Oh, crap, I need to look up one thing that I forgot to write down your number for. One second.”

Me: “Sure. Do you have a description? I might be able to find it faster.”

Caller: *Curtly* “I know what I’m doing.”

Having done my part and offered to help find it, I dork around online during at least three minutes of silence while I listen to him typing.

Caller: “Well, shoot, maybe you just don’t sell it. I can’t seem to find it.”

Me: “What description do you have?”

Caller: “It’s a [specific item].”

Me: “That’s [specific item] that has [side detail]?”

Caller: “Yeah. Should be a basic thing.”

Me: *Less than five seconds later* “That’s our [part number], and it’s [price].”

Caller: *Sheepishly* “I guess I should’ve told you that five minutes ago.”

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