I worked in a call center in the ancient times when the Internet came through the telephone jack. It was a horrible workplace. Everything was monitored by policy from bathroom breaks to what kind of food you brought as lunch — e.g., no bread because “it is bad for you”. It wasn’t very legal, but I needed the job. The commute was horrible, the hours were 0700 to 1200, four hours of unpaid lunch, and then 1600 to 2100, and the pay was two peanuts and a slap in the face.

My job was to walk people through troubleshooting this newfangled technology; TV through the Internet had just become common. It was my last day before I left for college, and it was the day before a major holiday where everyone expected to see TV after eating their body weight in ham, herring, and meatballs.

A major storm had ripped through the country and torn the telephone wires to shreds. I had been forced to work during my four-hour lunch, constantly berated over the phone by angry middle-aged people who didn’t take “enormous storm of doom” as a reasonable excuse for the Internet and their TVs not working. I was close to tears, tired, and emotionally drained.

This is my last call.

Me: *Faking cheerfulness* “Hello, and welcome to [Major ISP]. My name is [My Name]. How may I be of service?”

The caller speaks in the thickest, northernmost accent, here represented by badly written Scottish.

Caller: “Yah, me Internet’s doun. Cood jah help me?”

Me: “Certainly, miss! That is indeed why they pay me!”

I take her personal ID number, address, and such. She lives in the far north of Sweden. I see terrible news on top of my screen and prepare for a verbal assault.

Me: “I can see here that the problem indeed is on our side.”

Caller: “Ach, da storm? Oi thoot das was in da sooth?”

Me: “Indeed, the storm is to blame here. The problem is that snow, winds, and an avalanche have torn down the wires. It is a known problem that is… being worked on.”

Caller: “Good tae noow. Wen will it be fixed?”

Me: *Bracing for impact* “Well, miss, the servicemen have all been drafted to deal with the storm down south, so there is an expected twenty-day delay in your area.”

Caller: “Twenty daes?”

Me: “Yes. Possibly more, and I am terribly sorry. I cannot affect—”

Caller: “Doon’t jah worry! Oi’ll wait. Doose doon sooth have bigger problems and prob’ly need da help.”

Me: “You’re… okay with the wait?”

Caller: “Ah, what can jah doo? It’s not jah fault, an’ jah doon’t boss da workmen aroond!”

The shock of NOT being yelled at finally breaks me. I mute the customer so I won’t break the professional façade, but I am silent for quite some time.

Caller: “Hallo? Are jah deere?”

Me: “Yes, sorry. I’m sorry.”

Caller: “Aboot wat?”

Me: “That… you… wait…” *Choking up*

Caller: “Jah okay?”

Me: “Well… I… I have been yelled at for thirteen hours because of the storm. People call and expect me to fix their TVs by tomorrow and berate me for ruining their holiday. You are the first one to actually be nice to me.”

Caller: “Oh. Sorry aboot dat. Jah soonds loike a decent fellah.”

Me: “Thank you. I want to thank you for being nice to me.”

Caller: “Jah already did, but jah’re welcome!”

I get an idea.

Me: “Look, this is my last day. I am authorized to grant rebates without anyone else’s approval. I will give you the largest sum I can.”

Caller: “Wat?”

Me: “I will give you free Internet, phone, cell phone, and TV for…” *quick maths* “…a year.”

Caller: “WAT?”

Me: “Yes! I will not let you say no.”

Caller: “But… but… Thanks?”

Me: “You’re welcome! Thank you for calling!”

I ended the call and gave her the rebate. I checked the boxes that would give her the rebate regardless of her being eligible or not, and I made it so that any mistakes were on me personally. Then, I waited for the machine to process it, logged off, and went home. I haven’t been arrested yet!

Oh, and sorry to all Scottish people for my probable misrepresentation of your accent, but it is the closest approximation I could think of.

This story reminded me of back in the day, when I worked in the oil and gas industry. I was tasked with assisting a field crew at a multinational corporate wellsite for [Company] in Texas. Normally, I worked in an air-conditioned chemistry lab. This happened in August, and it was 105F at the wellsite.

This did not go well. I was not acclimatized to working in overalls in 105F weather, and I came down with a case of heat exhaustion about halfway through the task. And here’s the fun part: at this site, there was a [Company] executive.

Crewmate: “Hey, this guy has heat exhaustion, and I’m taking him to a doctor. Our crew will finish this task tomorrow.”

The [Company] guy did not have a problem with this at all.

Executive: “Sure, no problem. Take care of your guy.”

There was no yelling, not even calling the project manager on the phone demanding discounts or anything.

I was not billed for the doctor’s visit; my company was.

I bring this up because the oil and gas industry isn’t exactly known for being the best to its workers, and yet, in my one case of being injured on the job, I was still treated miles better — by a crude oil and natural gas corporation executive — than retail treats its workers.

Seriously, what is wrong with the person managing the store in this story when you’re losing the moral high ground to an oil exec?

Related:
Whoever Decided That Probably Has A Nice Cool Office…

The UK is going through a record-breaking heatwave, with temperatures hitting 40 degrees Celsius (104 F), which for us is A LOT.

I’m working at a train station when a passenger with an accent (either US or Canadian) comes up to me covered in sweat and anger.

Passenger: “For the love of God, turn on the AC!”

Me: “Sir, we don’t have any AC”

Passenger: “Ha… ha… very funny. Seriously, it’s hot as h*** out there, and my train isn’t for another thirty minutes!”

Me: “Sir, I’m sorry, but we don’t have any air conditioning devices installed at this station. We have a large fan blowing by the entrance if you’d like to stand there until your train arrives.”

Passenger: “Wait… you’re serious?”

Me: “I’m afraid so, sir.”

Passenger: “No… no AC? But…”

He looks around at the sad scene. Everyone on the platform and in the station is an image of sweaty misery.

Passenger: “…but… how?!“

Me: “Easy. It’s only hot enough to be this uncomfortable for a couple of weeks of the year, so our building relies on central heating a lot more than any kind of air conditioning. This particular station was built in the Victorian times before air conditioning was a thing. Also, if there was any air conditioning at this station, I’d be bloody standing right next to it!”

The poor passenger conceded that I had a point. I told him to come back during winter and he could try out our amazing central heating instead!

One very hot summer afternoon, I was driving south on a major interstate highway. About forty miles from home, ten miles from the intersection with another interstate, I saw a car with flashers on, and a few hundred yards beyond it was a man walking.

I pulled over to see if there was anything I could do to help.

Stranger: “I ran out of gas. I’m from [Other State], but I saw on a map that [Town] is close to where [Interstate #1] and [Interstate #2] intersect. I’m heading there to get a can of gas.”

Me: “Get in. It’s too far to be walking in this heat. I’m going that way anyway.”

I took him to a truck stop where he bought a two-gallon gas can and filled it. I sat off from the pumps to see what he was going to do next.

Just as I thought, he started off on foot with the gas.

Me: “Get in and I will take you back to your car.”

Stranger: “No. You don’t need to do that. You have helped enough already.”

Me: “You have any idea how heavy that can is going to get, shortly? And it is too hot to be walking that far. Get in.”

I took him the ten miles back to his car. Before he poured the gas into the tank, he offered to pay me for my trouble.

Me: “I won’t take your money. This is a ‘pay-it-forward’ moment. Besides, I already got paid.”

Stanger: “How is that?”

Me: “The satisfaction of helping another person.”

And with that, I waited until he got the car started before I took off home.

Our store is closing up early as there is a hurricane coming in. Most customers have grabbed some essentials and rushed out, but there is one older lady who seems to be browsing without any sense of urgency.

Me: “Ma’am, we need to close up now. Please take your purchase to the counter.”

Customer: *Almost nonchalantly* “Oh, but why?”

Me: “There’s going to be a hurricane later today, and we all need to get someplace safer.”

Customer: “Oh, but you don’t understand. I’m a Christian.”

Me: “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

Customer: “God only lets the natural disasters happen to all those Muslim countries. He leaves the Christian ones alone. That’s how I know I’ll be safe.”

Wow.

Me: “Ma’am, that’s… I don’t have time to get into that. Please leave the store now if you’re not making a purchase.”

Customer: “Are you a Christian?”

Me: “Ma’am, that’s not relevant.”

Customer: “Christ isn’t relevant? That’s why you’ll die in the hurricane and I’ll be fine. I can save you right now, and then I can have time to finish my groceries.”

Me: “Ma’am! Please leave! Now!”

Customer: *Leaving angrily* “This is how it starts! Persecuting the Christians!”