Guide Me Away From This Madness

| Working | March 10, 2013

(I work tech support at a large IT company. I’m currently busy fixing a company director’s computer half an hour after the end of my shift. The director is waiting by me, watching me work as he’s waiting for me to finish so he can get some important files sent. Another company worker walks up to me, ignoring the director.)

Coworker: “Hey, can I ask you something?”

Me: “Sure.”

Coworker: “It’s a bit complicated; is it alright if I ask?”

Me: “Sure.”

Coworker: “Do you have any guides on how to install the corporate instant messenger program?”

Me: “What?”

Coworker: “You know… a guide on how to install the IM program we use here.”

Me: “No, we don’t.”

Coworker: “Really? Because I could really use a guide.”

Me: “All you have to do is run the installer, check ‘I agree’ and click ‘forward’ twice. No configuration needed. It’s that simple.”

Coworker: “Well, I kinda need a guide for that. You see, we’re sending the IM program to a client.”

Me: “I’m fairly sure anyone with a basic grasp of how computers work would be able to install it by themselves.”

Coworker: “Still, I need a guide. Who installs that program here?”

Me: “We do.”

Coworker: “You do?”

Me: “Yes, we’re the tech support department.”

Coworker: “And you don’t need a guide?”

Me: “No. we don’t.”

Coworker: “Why not?”

Me: “It’s really simple to install. We don’t need a guide for that.”

Coworker: “Are you sure you don’t have a guide?”

Me: “I never saw one, no one ever mentioned one, so I’m fairly sure we don’t have one.”

Coworker: “Couldn’t you write one?”

Me: “We’re kind of busy here. But if you really need a guide, you could open a ticket. We’ll write a basic guide and send it to you once the ticket arrives in our inbox.”

Coworker: “Oh, I don’t have time for that!”

Me: “Well, if you don’t want to wait, you should talk to the developers.”

Coworker: “Oh? Who are the developers?”

Me: “The guys at [other company with the same owner of our company]. We contract their servers for the program. Drop them a word, and I’m sure they’ll be glad to send you the information you need.”

Coworker: *winces* “Oh, I don’t want to talk to [Other Company].”

Me: “Why not?”

Coworker: “Are you really sure you don’t have a guide stashed somewhere?”

Me: “Yes, I am.”

Coworker: “Maybe it’s lost in your filing system? It could have been tossed in an obscure folder in a backup server, you know?”

Me: “As I said, it’s a very simple program to install. One checkbox, two clicks, a few seconds of waiting and it’s ready to use. There was never a need for a guide, so we never wrote or asked for one.”

Coworker: “Right. Who could I talk to to see if they can find me a guide?”

Me: “Speak to [my Department Manager].”

Coworker: “Do you think he could help me find an installation guide?”

Me: “No, I don’t. I think you are looking for something that doesn’t exist.”

Coworker: “Really?”

Me: “Yep.”

Coworker: *chipper* “I’m sure he can help me out. Thanks!” *wanders off*

(My director has overheard our entire conversation, and puts a hand on my shoulder once my coworker leaves.)

Director: “Deep breaths, man. Deep breaths.”

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The Seoul Believer Of That Conspiracy Theory

| Working | March 9, 2013

(My friend and fellow language school teacher are walking the streets on the way to movie and pizza.  He’s makes an observation.)

Coworker: “You seem to make all Korean people happy. ”

Me: “…What?”

Coworker: “All the Koreans that look at me kind of scowl, and then they look at you and smile.”

Me: “That might be because you tend to scowl at people, and I tend to smile?”

Coworker: “Okay, but our bosses get you tons of help. Like that vacation for your family reunion; you know you could have gotten a full ten weeks. And they’re practically trying to set up your love life. Why is that?”

Me: “I do lots of extra stuff for them. Plus, I don’t tend to worry about whether the Koreans are plotting against me.”

Coworker: “Huh. Maybe that’s it…”

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Infinitely Loopy, Part 7

| Working | March 9, 2013

(Last Friday, I discovered I’d lost my debit card, which had about €35 left on the electronic purse chip. I’m now at the bank to pick up my replacement card.)

Teller: “So, here’s your new card. If you could just sign this form?”

Me: “Thanks. Just one more question: my old card still had about €35 left on it. Is that money lost now, or could you look up the exact amount in your computer system, and could it be transferred onto my new card?”

Teller: “The remaining amount can indeed be transferred to your new card, sir.”

Me: “That’s great. Please go ahead and do so.”

Teller: “If you could just put your old card in the card reader, sir?”

Me: “…My old card?”

Teller: “Yes, just so I can verify the exact amount, and then I can transfer it to your new card.”

Me: “So, let me get this right: you need me to put my old card into this card reader?”

Teller: “Exactly, sir.”

Me: “The old card that I reported lost last week, and for which you’ve just handed me a replacement?”

Teller: “That’s right, sir. I need both cards to do the transaction.”

Me: “Well, if I still had my old card, I wouldn’t be here to pick up a replacement, now would I?”

Teller: “You do have a point, sir. However, if you want me to transfer the money, I will be needing both the card you lost and your new card, sir.”

(I took that final pearl of wisdom as my cue to leave.)


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Wheeling But Definitely Not Dealing With Him

| Working | March 8, 2013

(There is a car sale going on at the dealership my sister’s boyfriend works at, and he promises my mom a good deal. My mother insists I come along so she can use my credit. Note: I work the graveyard shift, so I’m very very tired in the day.)

Me: *yawning*

Sister’s Boyfriend: “Have a seat, you two. I’ll be back in a sec.” *leaves*

(We wait a long time, but my sister’s boyfriend never comes back. Finally another salesman, an old man, approaches.)

Salesman: “Do you need any help?”

Mom: “Well, [sister’s boyfriend’s name] was helping us, but we don’t know where he went.”

Salesman: “I can help you.”

Mom: “Well…”

(My mom glances uncertainly at my sister’s boyfriend in the back. He sees her and comes out to speak to the salesman.)

Sister’s Boyfriend: *to the salesman* “Just show her the different types of cars and I’ll be right there.”

(The salesman shows my mom the cars, while I trail, yawning and doing my best not to fall asleep.)

Mom: “Yes we are using her—” *points to me* “—credit.”

Salesman: “What’s wrong with her? Is she retarded in the head?”

(I’ve been drowsy up to this point, but hearing him insult me instantly wakes me up.)

Me: “Excuse me?!”

Salesman: “How old are you, little girl?”

Me: “I’m 37, and I don’t appreciate your stupid assumptions. Mom, let’s go!”

(My mom finally agrees and tells the salesman to cancel everything. He does, very sourly. On the way out, my sister’s boyfriend stops us. My mom explains that she thought that he would give us a deal like he promised, not foist us off to someone else. My sister’s boyfriend turns to glare at the salesman, who’s chain-smoking in the back and glowering at us.)

Me: “I can’t believe he would say that! And [sister’s boyfriend’s name] was an idiot.”

(My sister broke up with her boyfriend soon after that. My mom got her car somewhere else.)

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You Can Always Count On Her To Be Honest

| Working | March 8, 2013

(I’m at the bank with my friend.)

My Friend: “I need to cash these checks.”

(My friend hands over two $60 checks.)

Teller: “Okay, here you go.”

(The teller hands my friend $180.)

My Friend: “Um, you gave me too much. It’s only $120.”

Teller:No, you gave me two $60 checks. It’s $180.”

My Friend: “No, it’s only $120. You need to check your math.”

(The teller types the amounts into the calculator.)

Teller: “Oh, you’re right. It’s only $120!”

(The teller finally takes back the $60 my friend had been trying to hand her back all along. As we are leaving…)

My Friend: *to me* “She’s lucky I’m honest!”

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