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Pizza Guys Should Run The World

, , , , , | Working | June 8, 2020

I am a member of my company’s social committee. The head of the social committee decides to have a company-wide Pizza Day, and I agree to organize it. I am told what to order and what my budget will be.

I decide to order from a local chain that is pretty decent. Unbeknownst to me, this particular chain has a deal on its extra-large pizzas – if you order over a certain number, you get a discount, and the more you order, the bigger the discount. I am ordering a LOT, and the discount is substantial.  

When Pizza Day arrives, one poor restaurant employee delivers every single box by himself, which means multiple trips out to his car and up the elevator. He looks tired and stressed at the end, and on impulse, I add an extra $20 to his tip. Even with that in mind, we’ve still saved a lot of money, and I have come in well under budget. The look of joy on the guy’s face is well worth it.

A week later, I speak with the head of the social committee.

Head: “Why did you tip the pizza guy so much?”

I explain.

Head: “That doesn’t matter! You cost the company money!”

Me: “How do you figure? I spent less than our original budget.”

Head: “It’s not like delivering pizza is difficult! He didn’t deserve an extra $20!”

I feel sorry for anyone who delivers food to this guy.

‘Til Death Or Pyramid Scheme Do Us Part

, , , , , , | Romantic | May 14, 2020

I got married to my first husband very young, and after only a few months, we discovered that getting married was a huge mistake. We had a very amicable divorce and parted friends. We didn’t stay in touch, but our parents did, so we often heard about what was going on in each other’s lives.

Time passed, and I married again. My second husband and I had a little girl, and we gave her a sister two years later.

I get the following phone call about a month after giving birth the second time. It has probably been six years or more since my ex and I last spoke.

Ex: “Hi, [My Name]! How are you?”

Me: “[Ex]! It’s been so long! I’m fine; thanks for asking. How are you?”

I honestly think he called to catch up and perhaps congratulate me on the new baby.

Ex: “Things couldn’t be better for me. Your parents probably heard from mine that I’m now involved in [Pyramid Scheme]?”

He doesn’t call it a pyramid scheme, of course. It is a vitamin company which is — if you believe the hype — going to be responsible for the human race staying in the peak of health for decades and living to be 120.

Me: “Yes, I heard that.”

Ex: “Let me tell you all about it. These vitamins are the best thing ever, and—”

Me: “Uh, let me stop you right there. I’m not interested in buying any vitamins.”

Ex: “Oh, that’s not why I’m calling. I have a business proposition for you and [Second Husband] which you’d be crazy to turn down.”

Me: “No, thanks.”

Ex: “Don’t say no right away. You haven’t heard about it—”

Me: “Look, [Ex], I’m not interested in anything to do with that company, so please don’t waste your time.”

Ex: “…”

Me: “But anyway, enough about that. What’s new? How’s the family?”

How pathetic is that? I still think that he called for a friendly chat, not a sales pitch.

Ex: *Hurriedly* “Oh, they’re fine, but I really have to go. Nice talking to you, [My Name].” *Click*

And that was that. I couldn’t help but be saddened that the sweet young man who’d once promised to love me for all time had turned into a sleazy salesman, but that’s life, I guess. I never heard from him again.

Shut Up And Take My Coupon!

, , , , , | Friendly | April 4, 2020

During one of my grocery shopping runs, I spend enough to qualify for a “get $10 off on your next visit if you spend $50 or more” coupon. Unfortunately, I forget all about it until it has almost expired. I’ve already done my grocery shopping for the week, so I decide to visit the store and give the coupon to someone. I talk to the first person I see.

Me: “Excuse me. Would you like–” 

Person #1: “Not interested!” 

He scurries away. Hmm, I guess he thought I was a panhandler. Okay, skip the chitchat; get straight to the point. I try again with the next person I see.

Me: “Hi. I’ve got a coupon for $10 off that I can’t use. Would you like it?”

Person #2: “No, thanks.”

Really? You don’t want to save ten bucks? Maybe she thought I was a scammer. I try yet again to offer the coupon to the next person, a woman who’s with her husband.

Me: “Hi. I’ve got a coupon for $10 off if you spend $50. I can’t use it; would you like to have it?”

Person #3: “We won’t be spending that much, but thanks, anyway.”

Person #3’s Husband: “We won’t?”

Person #3: *Firmly* “No.”

Me: “Okay!

As I walk away, I hear the husband say:

Person #3’s Husband: “Are you nuts? We’ll definitely be spending at least $50! Why didn’t you take the coupon?”

I was finally able to give the coupon to the next person: a harassed, tired-looking young woman who was thrilled to get it. Phew!

Bringing Some Rock’N’Roll Into The Music Store

, , , , , , , | Right | March 9, 2020

Back in 1988, I sold my small music store to a larger music store and was offered a job there. I decided to take it.

On my first day, an older lady — a piano teacher — with zero personality came up to me and handed me a note. It was a list of piano books she wanted. As there was no one in the music book section to assist — they were either away or helping other customers — I took the note and started looking for the books, even though it wasn’t part of my job or specialty.

I guess I was taking longer than expected and she came up to me and started b****ing that I was taking too long. I explained politely that it was my first day and I wasn’t familiar with the layout of the books. She huffed and said something like, “You’re just being stupid. The books are in the same places they always are.” Again, I said it was my first day and had no experience in the books, as musical instruments like guitars, drums, etc., were my specialty. That didn’t satisfy her and she continued to b**** at me while I tried to fill her order. 

She was so incredibly annoyed with me that she let out a big groan and almost yelled, “Someone get this stupid boy out of here and get me someone to get my order!” I was totally embarrassed, not knowing any of my coworkers and not knowing the store. Eventually, one of the girls came and helped her (and me). 

After a couple of weeks, I got my bearings and my confidence. I was standing at the front counter and the same old cranky sourpuss proceeded to walk up and hand me a note. I looked at it and said, “What’s this?”

“My book order.” 

I replied, “Yeah? And…?”

She looked at me sternly and said, “AND?! THESE ARE THE BOOKS I WANT!”

I handed it back and said, “When you go shopping, do you go up to the cashier in [Grocery Store] and hand her your grocery list? Go get ’em yourself.”

The girls in the music department turned and stared at me. My boss gave me a “What the h*** are you doing?” look. 

I told him, “You don’t need rude customers like this in here.” He actually laughed and from that point forward, the girls in the music book department would help people find books, but no one ever took another list from anyone else. Sometimes you have to bring that rock‘n’roll attitude to the classical music section.

The Music Sucks But The Ending Delivers

, , , , , , | Right | March 5, 2020

It was my second day working at a music store and I was enjoying walking around, helping the odd customer, familiarizing myself with the layout and the instruments. I didn’t really know any of my coworkers yet but they were nice enough, and because the boss was such a cool guy, there were always more employees in the store than customers. 

On this particular sunny afternoon, I was making small talk with the employees and the boss about why there were so many employees working during the summer when I turned my attention to the customer walking through the door. She was about my age and drop-dead beautiful. Time seemed to stop as she came through the door and walked slowly towards me, but then she detoured and walked over to a grand piano.

Maybe she’s going to play an amazing song and we’ll fall in love and she’ll dig that I play guitar and drums…

My daydream was shattered when she started swearing, smashing on the piano keys, yelling, and throwing little musical gift items like pencils and erasers off the shelves. I froze.

I turned to my coworkers who had conveniently scattered like patrons in an old west saloon when Black Bart entered looking for a fight. They had literally vanished. I could see my boss’s head peeking out from behind an office divider. Seriously.

She continued on her tirade of destruction and I was the only one left to deal with it. I walked over to her and she started trying to hit me, cursing, and calling me every filthy name she could fling. So much for our romance. I grabbed her by the shoulders and literally steered her out of the store, but not before she kicked over a couple of acoustic guitars and an amp.

As I walked back into the store, my coworkers and boss reappeared, laughing. One of them said, “That’s how you do it!” Apparently, she did this a lot and no one had escorted her out as fast as I did with such minimal damage.

About six months later, she came into the store again, but this time she wasn’t high on something or had taken her medication. She was absolutely breathtaking, funny, and engaging, and I almost thought about going for it, but then I remembered her volatile little secret and kept it professional.