When It’s For Pizza Don’t Ask Why

, , , , , | Working | October 18, 2017

(My friends and I order pizza for delivery and it gets to us pretty quickly. Because my friend used her debit card, the pizza guy says:)

Pizza Guy: “I need your driver’s license number.”

Friend: “Why?”

Pizza Guy: “Ma’am, it’s the company rules, not mine.”

Friend: “Okay, why?”

Pizza Guy: “Ma’am, I have no choice. This is what they tell me to do.”

Friend: “No, I understand, but my driver’s license starts with the letter ‘Y.’”

(You could see the light bulb go off when he got it, but I blame her, too. He was cool, though, and laughed hard at himself. She actually gave him a decent tip for the laugh!)

Me And My Glasses Are Tight

, , , , | Working | October 18, 2017

(I am at a nationwide chain of “upscale” glasses retailers, the same location where I have purchased all of my frames for the last eight years. I’ve never had an issue with anyone despite buying new lenses every two years until this time.)

Sales Lady: “Hmm, well, your eyes are supposed to be centered in the lens perfectly but these just aren’t. Are you sure that these are the ones you want? I just wouldn’t feel like I was doing my job right if I let you leave looking like this.”

Me: “Well, these are the exact same dimensions as my old pair and I do have fairly narrow-set eyes so I’m used to that. I’d probably have to go down to childrens’ lenses to achieve a perfect center, and then the temples would be too narrow.”

(She huffs a little but gives it up. Later…)

Sales Lady: “The arms on these go farther back on your head than I like to see. Are you certain you don’t want to try another pair?”

Me: “If you look at my old pair here, you can see they go just as far back as these new ones. This is a persistent issue that I have. My ears must just be close to my face.”

Sales Lady: “Hm. Well, I just don’t feel like I’m doing my job right if I let someone leave with glasses that don’t fit them.”

Me: “Do you have glasses with shorter arms, or are these just standard and I’m the wonky one?”

(She ignores my comment and moves on. I return later that evening to pick up the finished frames.)

Sales Lady: “Oh, they’re a little crooked. Let me see them.”

(She looks them over, sets them on the table, tests them with a little level, and everything looks normal. Puzzled, she sets them on my face.)

Me: “I know one of my ears is about a half centimeter higher than the other. That might be why they look crooked.”

(She takes the glasses back and wrenches them up so that they hold so tightly to my face that they stay “even” to her liking, without having to rest on both of my ears.)

Sales Lady: “See? Perfect!”

(I know that she was just trying to do her job, but she had no regard for how I felt about my glasses, their fit, or my comfort. I had to go back two days later and get them completely refit, because I was having terrible headaches from their unnecessarily tight fit.)

That Definition Is Tight

, , , , , | Working | October 18, 2017

Coworker #1: *reading an article about American Football player Rob Gronkowski* “‘It’s looking like a very Merry Gronkmas. New England Patriots tight end debuted a new ugly sweater that features a photo of him spiking a Christmas present.’ Apparently there’s a contest where you can win a dinner with him and a surprise guest, plus a bunch of signed memorabilia.”

Coworker #2: “I don’t care about the memorabilia; I’d just take the dinner with him. He’s hot.”

(The conversation continues about Gronkowski and football. A few minutes later…)

Me: “Wait… is ‘tight end’ a football term?”

(Everyone laughs.)

Coworker #1: “Yes, it’s a hybrid position, like a wide receiver.”

Me: “Oh, I was thinking they were talking about Gronk’s ‘tight end.’”

Coworker #2: “Well, that’s a good description, too.”

Hard To Take Stock Of This Madness

, , , , | Working | October 18, 2017

(After I graduate college, I work for a few months in a local dollar store until I can find a job in my actual career field. I am hired as a “stock and inventory specialist,” and one of my main duties is to help unload the semi-truck load of merchandise that comes in each week. The usual driver is on a very tight schedule, so he and I always unload everything from the truck into the stockroom, and then I take the individual boxes out to the sale floor after he drives off. It usually takes about 30 minutes to unload the truck, but my boss, who is very proud of her “business management skills,” has other ideas.)

Boss: “Why aren’t you getting these boxes out to the sale floor while you’re unloading them from the truck? We have a lot of empty space on the shelves, and we need to fill that space as quickly as possible.”

Me: “I’ll put everything out there as soon as I get everything off the truck and let him leave for his next stop.”

Driver: “Ma’am, I have a very tight schedule. I need to get everything off the truck as quickly as possible, so I can get to my next stop on time.”

Boss: *to the driver* “You’re not qualified to tell me how to run my store! All you do is drive a truck all day. If you’re so worried about being late to your next stop, just find a shorter route, or drive faster.” *turning to me* “Just take each box out to the floor and get everything shelved right away. Trust me; it’ll be faster!”

(The driver gives up and jumps back into his cab to call his boss, and my boss goes back into her office, leaving me to unload the rest of the truck on my own. In total, it takes about three hours to unload the truck, one or two boxes at a time. This happens with every delivery we get in for the next three weeks. The owner of the trucking company finally rides along with his driver one day to figure out why it’s taking so long.)

Owner: *watching me use my boss’s method* “Why are you doing it that way? My driver has to get on to his next stop. Just get everything off the truck. You can make it neat and pretty after my driver leaves.”

Boss: “I tried telling him the same thing, but he just insists on doing it his way.”

Me: *barely holding in my anger* “You were the one who ordered me to do it this way!”

Boss: “Why would I ever tell you to do something like this? That’s just bad for business!”

Driver: “It’s true; she told him to do it this way because she thought it would be faster. She also told me off for trying to tell her about my schedule, and insisted that I should break the law to make up for any delays.”

Owner: “I’ve heard enough. I’ll be cancelling our shipping contract with this place tomorrow. We don’t have to put up with this woman’s crazy ideas every week.”

(I also quit that night, because I didn’t want to put up with her crazy ideas anymore, either. The store is still in business today, about two years later, but I’ve never seen a truck from that company anywhere near the parking lot.)

No Pods, Pads, Or Sense

, , , , | Working | October 18, 2017

Customer: “Do you sell iPods?”

Coworker: *doesn’t quite hear* “Sorry, did you say iPods or iPads?”

Customer: “iPods.”

Coworker: “Sorry, we don’t sell those.”

Customer: “Oh, okay. But you have iPads?”

Coworker: “No, sorry. We don’t sell those.”

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