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The Quality Of These Toys Are Sith

, , , , , , | Working | December 23, 2020

It’s around the holiday season, and my regional manager and I are standing near the back of the store talking about some plans for the store. We happen to be near a display of Star Wars toys, and I notice a plastic lightsaber that’s new. They are the type that when you flick it, the coloured plastic shoots out to turn the lightsaber “on.” I grab one off the shelf to try it out, but nothing happens. It’s a blue lightsaber, meant for a Jedi.

Regional Manager: “Let me try.”

It works with one swing.

Me: “I’ve always leaned more toward the dark side anyway.”

I took one of the red lightsabers off the hook and tried it out. It worked perfectly. I tried the blue lightsaber again later. It still didn’t work for me.

Champagne For My Real Friends, Real Pain For This Clerk

, , , , , , | Working | December 15, 2020

My husband and I have flown to Vancouver for a vacation. I booked a car for us online. My last name is commonly misspelled because it sounds the same as a famous product. Let’s say that my last name is “Shampaine,” which sounds like “Champagne”.

Me: “Hello! I’ve reserved a car.”

Clerk: “Last name?”

Me: “Shampaine.”

Clerk: *Checking computer* “Your reservation isn’t here.”

Me: “Oh, this happens quite a bit. Let me spell my name for you.”

Clerk: “I told you, it’s not here.”

Me: “My name is spelled S-H-A—”

Clerk: *Not touching her computer* “It’s not here.”

Me: *Giving up* “Tell you what. Here’s my confirmation number.”

Clerk: *Checks the computer* “Oh! Here it is. I see the problem: your last name is spelled wrong.” *Laughs*

Me: “It’s not spelled wrong.”

Clerk: “Uh, yeah, it is.”

Me: “I entered all my details myself online when I made the reservation. Are you saying that I don’t know how to spell my own name?”

Clerk: “…”

Husband: *Tugging my sleeve* “Let’s go.”

I wish I could say that was a rare event, but it happens a LOT.

Something, Something, Brightest Bulb…

, , , , , | Working | December 4, 2020

I’m a woman. I bought a new car off the lot a few months ago, and it’s suggested that you bring the car back to the dealership after a few months to get a checkup. Sure, whatever, it’s free. So, as I hand my keys to the man behind the counter at the end of my signing in:

Me: “Oh, and my left high beam is aimed too high. Can I please get it aligned while it’s in?”

Receptionist: “Sure, I’ll show you how to do it right now.”

Me: “Sorry, what?”

Receptionist: “Come on; I’ll show you.”

Intrigued, I lead him to my car, where he asks me to unlock the door. I do, and I move to pop the hood, but he reaches in and pushes the headlight switch forward.

Receptionist: “There you go. You push this forward to turn on your high beams.”

Time stops as I blink at him slowly a few times.

Me: “Can I talk to someone else, please?”

Receptionist: “What?”

Me: “Like, anyone else. A manager, maybe.”

I’ve never asked for a higher-up a day in my life and don’t really know what to expect.

The receptionist walks me back and gets a manager. I explain what happened and the manager’s friendly smile falls, and then his mouth drops open.

There are profuse apologies, and I head out with a friend who’s picking me up for brunch to kill the few hours my car is in the shop.

I was greeted and helped by the manager when I returned, and he was careful to shield me from the receptionist.

To this day, I cannot imagine what he heard in my request to suggest that I didn’t know how to put my high beams on.

Getting A Master’s Degree In Fierce

, , , , , , , | Related | December 1, 2020

I’m a big fan of “RuPaul’s Drag Race.” My mom is a child of the sixties, and I figure she would get a kick out of seeing the challenge where the drag queens perform in a musical where they have to sing and dance as Cher at different stages of her career.

We’re watching together and she seems amused, but it’s sort of like she doesn’t quite get what’s going on. Then, eventually, it clicks…

Mom: “Oh! They’re all men!

Me: “More or less. Why did you think they were all dressed up as Cher? She’s been a gay icon for fifty years.”

Mom: “Well, I don’t know, honey. Your generation does all kinds of strange things. I’ve just learned to smile and nod and let you do whatever makes you happy.”

When “Canada’s Drag Race” became a thing, Mom particularly enjoyed the episode where the queens had to dress up as Celine Dion.

Film Lot, Bond Speaking

, , , , , , | Working | November 27, 2020

I am working in a movie company production office. As a general rule, in my city, a new TV or movie production starts up a new company with each new project.

A representative of the yellow pages calls us, obviously seeing that a new company has formed.

Representative: “Hi, this is [Representative] from the yellow pages. I’d like to speak to someone about setting up a listing in our book.”

Me: “Oh. Okay. Um. No, thank you. We don’t want to be in the yellow pages.”

Representative: “What? Everyone wants to be in the yellow pages.”

The representative starts her spiel but I cut her off as soon as I can.

Me: “No. Seriously. We don’t want to be listed.”

She starts up again and I start to get annoyed.

Me: “Look. We don’t want to advertise anything about us. We are a private company who doesn’t want to be bothered while we’re working.”

She pauses for a really long time.

Representative: “Are you with the government?”

That’s not the assumption I was expecting — especially since “Production” is in the company name — but I say:

Me: “Sure, yes, we are with the government.”

Representative: “Wow… Okay. Your secret is safe with me. Thank you and goodbye.”

I’ve never fielded that sort of call before or since, but I loved that she thought she’d stumbled on a secret government operation.


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