Financial Crisis Are Beginning To Make Sense

, , , , | Working | December 13, 2019

(During a busy Sunday “Car Free Day” celebration in my city, where thousands of people gather and walk in the streets, shopping at market stalls and listening to live music, I see a debit card lying in the middle of the road. I snatch it up and hold it aloft calling out to ask if someone has lost their card, but there is no answer. I’ve recently read what to do when finding a card, so I call the number on the back to let the bank know.)

Bank Employee: “Account number, please.”

Me: “Oh, well, the number on the card is [card number] but I found it on the road at a festival. What should I do?”

Bank Employee: “Did you ask the people around you if it’s theirs?”

Me: “I did, but there are thousands of people here so no one claimed it.”

Bank Employee: “You should take it to the police station, then.”

Me: “What?”

Bank Employee: “Can you take it to a police station, then?”

Me: “This is not a matter for the police. I’m not going to waste my Sunday looking for a police station. Can’t you just cancel it?”

Bank Employee: “Well… I could call the card holder.”

Me: “Sure. I could meet them at the dog food stall near where I found it. It’s really obvious.”

Bank Employee: “Mmm. I can’t give away their information.”

Me: “But… you’re calling them. Just tell them come back and look for the redhead holding a card above her head.”

Bank Employee: “I can’t give up their personal information.”

Me: “Then why did you suggest it?”

Bank Employee: “Can you please just take it to a police station?”

Me: “No. Not only do I not have a car to get to one, this is not something for the police. If I give it to a patrol officer, what are they going to do with it? Look, there’s a bank branch a block away; I’ll put it in their mail slot. Can you please cancel the card?”

Bank Employee: “I should call the police.”

Me: “About what? The card is lost, not stolen. There’s no crime here. Just cancel the card! It’ll be at the [Branch] Monday morning.”

Bank Employee: “Okay. I’ll cancel it and call the client. Will you please drop it off at a police station?”

Me: “It will be at the [Branch]. Thank you for cancelling it.”

Bank Employee: “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Me: “Oh. No, thank you.”

(I looked over my shoulder all weekend, expecting to be visited by the police for stealing a debit card.)

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General Tso Says SHUT UP!

, , , , | Working | December 13, 2019

(I’m taking my lunch break. One of the things I have in the refrigerator at work is a bottle of spicy honey garlic hot sauce. A coworker spots it.)

Coworker: “What’s this? I’ve never seen this before.”

Me: “Oh, I use it for, like, chicken or wraps sometimes. It tastes like—”

Coworker: “Oh, like a teriyaki sauce.”

Me: “It’s actually more like—”

Coworker: “Like a tangy barbecue sauce?”

Me: “I was going to say more like—”

Coworker: “Is it like [Brand] hot sauce?”

Me: *annoyed* “If you would give me a chance to reply, I was going to compare it to a spicier General Tso’s flavor.”

Coworker: “Well, how was I supposed to know?”

(Oh, I don’t know, maybe actually stop and let me answer your question after you asked it? The funny part was that I later overheard him telling another coworker that I “seemed b****y today.” The coworker, thankfully, responded, “She seemed pretty chipper when I saw her. Sure it’s not just you?”)

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Seeing The Worst In People Is Called Being Awake

, , , , , | Working | December 13, 2019

(Our company has brought in a new policy to force staff to sign up customers to their loyalty card; we have to meet a specific number each week or face disciplinary action. As a supervisor, I often bring up things I see as issues with my manager.)

Me: *to my manager* “What’s to stop people from adding fake names just to get their quota?”

Manager: “Why do you always do that?”

Me: “Do what?’

Manager: “You always see the worst in things, like last week when I wanted to remove the security code from the door to the staff area and you told me that someone could get in there and steal from the staff lockers.”

Me: “I’m only bringing up things that I can see that could be a problem.”

Manager: “I just can’t believe that you think like that; I don’t think I can trust you.” *walks off*

(Fast forward a few weeks:)

Manager: “Oh, my God, did you hear that there’s been quite a few staff in other stores who have been fired because they were putting in fake names for [loyalty card]? I wonder why no one thought of that in the first place.”

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No ID-ea What They’re Talking About

, , , | Working | December 13, 2019

(I’ve ordered some clothes online, and I go to pick them up in-store. The store asks for ID to pick up an online order, to prevent theft. When the cashier asks for a driver’s license, I hand my ID over, as I don’t drive.)

Cashier: “No, I need a driver’s license.”

Me: “I don’t have one. Just a standard ID.”

Cashier: “Then I can’t give you your order.”

Me: “Really? Do I have to learn to drive to pick up my order?”

Cashier: “We have to verify that you’re the one that placed the order.” 

Me: “So… you’d need something that could identify me?”

Cashier: “Yes ma’am.”

Me: “Like an ID?”

Cashier: “No, we can only use a driver’s license.”

Me: “Can you get your manager?”

(Thankfully, the manager understood the purpose of an ID and gave me my order.)

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Children Should Know The Condom-Minimum

, , , , , , | Working | December 13, 2019

(I am on summer vacation in Southern Italy to visit family and go to the beach. One day, two of my aunts entrust me with three cousins to go visit the nearby city. After a long day spent visiting a few attractions and window shopping, we are about to head home, but the youngest cousin really wants some soda, so I decide to stop at a tiny convenience store to buy him his drink, as well as a few things for me. As I pick up the items, the other two cousins, a boy and a girl of roughly the same age, patiently wait for me at the checkout. The cashier notices that their eyes have been attracted by a small rack of condoms. Note that my cousins are nine or ten years old at the time.)

Cashier: *in a sweet voice* “Oh, looking at those pretty boxes, eh? But do you know what are they for?”

Female Cousin: *proudly* “Of course! They’re for when you don’t want babies!”

Male Cousin: “Or if you want to prevent AIDS.”

(The cashier’s face crumpled up like a used tissue as she recoiled, before raising her head to shoot daggers at me, just as I’m putting down my things.)

Me: “All right, [Female Cousin] and [Male Cousin], you get back to the car with [Younger Cousin]; I’m going to come soon.”

Male Cousin: “Roger!”

(As [Female Cousin] takes [Younger Cousin]’s hand and follows [Male Cousin] speeding off to the car, I start bagging things. The cashier is glaring at me.)

Cashier: “Are they your children?”

Me: “No, I’m their cousin. Why do you ask?”

Cashier: *grimacing* “Ugh, their parents must be really f****** revolting; kids shouldn’t know what a condom is.”

Me: “As long as they don’t get first-hand experience… why not?”

Cashier: “Oh, so you think there’s nothing wrong with children screwing? Is that what you’re telling me, you disgusting piece of trash?”

Me: *taken aback* “I don’t know what the f*** you are trying to say. I just said that nothing’s wrong with children knowing what a condom is.”

Cashier: “If they know what a condom is and what it’s for, they know how to use it. How can you think it’s not sick that their parents taught them how to put condoms on?”

Me: “Look. I don’t have time for this. They just said what a condom is, not how to use it. Now let me just pay for this before I lose my s***.”

(The cashier grumbled loudly about my uncles being “disgusting child rapists” and blatantly did the “I’m watching you” gesture at me as I left the store. Nothing came out of it, and I sincerely doubt anyone at the police station gave her the time of day, assuming she even cared enough.)

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