(I have two health insurance plans. My pharmacy will file for the primary plan but not the secondary. So, I file it every six months. To do so, I need an Explanation of Benefits (EOB) from my primary insurance. Getting one is always harder than pulling teeth.)

Rep: “Thank you for calling [insurance company]. This is [name]. How may I help you?”

Me: “Hi, I am needing an Explanation of Benefits (EOB) from January 1 to June 30th, and I need to speak to a supervisor.”

Rep: “I am sorry, ma’am; we cannot do that.”

Me: “Melissa, I know at your level you can’t. That’s why I need to speak to a supervisor.”

Rep: “Yes, ma’am. How may we help you?”

Me: “I am needing an Explanation of Benefits (EOB) from January 1 to June 30th, and I need to speak to a supervisor.”

Rep: “I am sorry, ma’am; we cannot do that.”

Me: “I know at your level you can’t; that is why I need to speak to a supervisor.”

Rep: “Yes, ma’am. How may we help you?”

(This actually went in circles for a few times, with the rep sounding more condescending and really enjoying herself. In frustration, I hang up, fuming. Ten minutes later, I call back. I get the same rep again. First sentence and she is already enjoying herself.)

Rep: “Thank you for calling [insurance company]. This is [name]. How may I help you?”

Me: “Hi, I am needing an Explanation of Benefits (EOB) from January 1 to June 30th, and I need to speak to a supervisor.”

Rep: “I am sorry, ma’am; we cannot do that.”

Me: “I know at your level you can’t that is why I need to speak to a supervisor. And there is another thing I know. I know: I am RECORDING this, and I need to speak to a supervisor.”

Rep: “Yes, ma’am!” *transfers me immediately*

(At the restaurant where I bartend, the owner has some friends over for a meal and is sitting and eating with them.)

Owner: *as I’m pouring wine* “No, no, you’re doing it wrong!”

Me: “Oh,  sorry sir.”

Owner: “You’re meant to do it like this!”

(At this point, my owner stands up, snatches the bottle from my hand, and begins pouring a glass by nearly turning the bottle upside down.)

Owner: “Like that, see?”

Owner’s Friend: “Erm… you might want to not do that.”

Owner: “Hmm? Why not?”

Owner’s Friend: “For starters, the young man was doing fine on his own.  Secondly, you just poured red wine in a glass half filled with white. Thirdly, your shoes are looking a bit soggy now.”

(It turned out the owner had splashed red wine all down the front of himself. His friends not only apologised for him, but also tipped me well!)

(I have recently adopted two children from Guatemala.)

Boss: “Are you enjoying being a new parent?”

Me: “I love it, but it’s a lot of work with two babies at home.”

Boss: “When will you start taking Spanish lessons?”

Me: “I’m not sure. Why?”

Boss: “Well, you want to be able to communicate with your children when they grow up, don’t you?”

Me: *mouth gaping open* “Um… I need to go to the restroom…”

Related:
Stupid In Any Language

(Very occasionally, our small express-format store gets delivered items that we don’t stock.)

Me: “Hey [Manager], we got a whole half cage of morning goods (bread, cookies, etc.) and we don’t sell any of these lines.”

Manager: “Leave it to me; I’ll deal with it.”

Me: *leaves it, clocks out*

(I come back in the next day, and…)

Me: “Hey [Same Manager], you know these things don’t have a long date code, yeah? Do you want me to display them on the shelves?”

Manager: “Nah, that’ll only make the system order more.”

Me: “What if you reduce them on yellow labels, then they don’t affect the sales-based ordering system because they are reduced, right?”

Manager: “Yes, that’s right, but it affects our wastage figures. Leave it with me; I’ll deal with it.”

(Fast forward a week: I’ve nagged the manager on every shift I worked, By now, the formerly fresh products are now out of date, so I am moving them to the waste cart.)

Manager: “Hey! Stop! What are you doing?”

Me: “These are out of date now, so we can’t reduce them or sell them.”

Manager: “But that will affect our waste figures. You could have told me they were going out of date!”

Me: “Seriously?”

(I am at home from uni one day when the doorbell rings. I answer to find a salesperson.)

Salesperson: “Hi, we’re here to talk about switching your energy provider.”

Me: “Oh, no thank you; I’m quite happy with the provider we currently use.”

Salesperson: “But our service is much cheaper than the one you’re currently with. You really should switch.”

Me: “I’m not sure how you would know who I’m with. But again, no thank you, I’m happy with that service.”

Salesperson: *sarcastically* “You probably can’t make that decision anyway. What time does your husband get home? I’ll come back and talk to him.”

Me: “Actually, the bills are in my name and I manage our finances. I don’t think you want to come back later. My fiancé will say exactly what I just told you.”

(The salesperson leaves, but returns the next evening.)

My Fiancé: “I thought my fiancée told you yesterday to p*** off!”