Conversations From the Professional Front Lines

[Raw Shark]

FLIRTY GIRL WITH DEADBEAT BOYFRIEND: So yeah, I told him to move out two months ago, but he can't because he hasn't had a job in over a year. By the way, that's why I need to owe you some money tonight...

YOUR DRIVER: Can I ask you something?

FLIRTY GIRL WITH DEADBEAT BOYFRIEND: Sure.

YOUR DRIVER: Seriously, no offense intended?

FLIRTY GIRL WITH DEADBEAT BOYFRIEND: Okay.

YOUR DRIVER: Where the fuck do these assholes find women like you who put up with that shit!? I can't even imagine being with a woman who isn't a total fucking retard who would put up with me being unemployed in her place for a year, until she met someone obviously better like me, and then gave that guy the full-court-press while still living with the original douchebag. You are so toxic you should be a Superfund site. I would rather fuck blow-up dolls than you.

FLIRTY GIRL WITH DEADBEAT BOYFRIEND: [stammers] I... what? ah...

YOUR DRIVER: That'll be 25 bucks.

[Crazedwraith]

Is 'no offense intended' in the geneva convention alongside 'with all due respect'? meaning 'I can say whatever I like'

[Raw Shark]

Is 'no offense intended' in the geneva convention alongside 'with all due respect'? meaning 'I can say whatever I like'

I can always say whatever I like, and they can always get offended, but the handshake agreement not to tends to allow people to brace themselves a little.

ETA: I should probably clarify that the girl I chewed out in the above story wasn't a complete stranger, but a new regular who has actually pulled the, "put her hands all over me, drop hints that she's available, and then whine for a discount because d-bag spent her money on magic beans," routine on me three times as of last night, and I'm sick of it.

ETA #2: Well, this resolved itself very differently from how I expected: Instead of never calling me again, she did, and instead of ignoring the call, I realized she really has no self esteem at all if she's going to take that kind of shit from me, felt bad, and drove her home. She told me that she's afraid to be single because she has a kid, so I related some of the stories from the Bad Male Role Model vs No Male Role Model thread in Off Topic. She didn't try to lead me on physically except at one stop-light where it seemed more reflexive than anything deliberate, and at the end she hugged me and thanked me for being a good friend. I friended a girl by comparing her advances unfavorably to those of a blow-up doll. Definitely did not see any of that coming.

[madd0ct0r]

you friendzoned someone? you SJW monster

[Raw Shark]

you friendzoned someone? you SJW monster

I at least try to live by my, "don't stick it in crazy," motto.

[Raw Shark]

PROBABLY STILL DUMB WHEN SOBER: My company gave me a voucher for a free ride from your company for the office Christmas party, so I don't have to pay you anything!

YOUR DRIVER: . . o O (Hello, Holidays! Goodbye, any hope of a tip!) Swell. Let me see that, please.

PROBABLY STILL DUMB WHEN SOBER: I called your company, and they said somebody was on the way, but I've been waiting five minutes and he's not here, so I'm taking you!

YOUR DRIVER: Whoa, hang on, I'll get in big trouble with the company if I steal an assigned voucher trip. I can't do this ride if you called it in, sorry.

PROBABLY STILL DUMB WHEN SOBER: But how will they know it was you!?

YOUR DRIVER: [patiently] They'll know it was me when I process the voucher.

PROBABLY STILL DUMB WHEN SOBER: Then don't process the voucher!

YOUR DRIVER: Then I don't get paid.

PROBABLY STILL DUMB WHEN SOBER: You're a shitty cab driver! I'm calling your manager!

YOUR DRIVER: Knock yourself out, it'd be the most positive review I've ever received.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ALARMING RED EYESHADOW: Yeah, I have to file a Schedule C and a Schedule SE for that, and then a 1099, too.

YOUR DRIVER: Yeah, as far as the IRS is concerned, cab drivers are exactly the same as strippers.

ALARMING RED EYESHADOW: If cab drivers are exactly the same as strippers, I'm really not getting my money's worth on this ride so far!

YOUR DRIVER: [stock phrase tone] I only strip on Sunday mornings!

ALARMING RED EYESHADOW: [doesn't miss a beat] You know, [name], it's been Sunday morning for three hours.

YOUR DRIVER: ...well-played, ma'am.

[Aleva13]

Not to mention the games of Musical Chairs that happen around here...all the old crappy chairs with broken pistons tend to magically wind up at desks where there had just been shiny new chairs.

That happend so often at my old call center, keypads too. Eventually management wired them down...

[Broomstick]

LITTLE OLD LADY IN NOISY, CROWDED STORE: Mumble mumble mumble

ME: I'm sorry, I didn't hear all of that. Could you please repeat it?

LITTLE OLD LADY IN NOISY, CROWDED STORE: Mumble mumble mumble

ME: it's noisy in here, could you please speak up?

LITTLE OLD LADY IN NOISY, CROWDED STORE: Mumble mumble mumble

WTF is it with these people? Honestly, we get shriveled up people on oxygen in wheelchairs who can speak louder that these allegedly able-bodied biddies. They act like someone is going to beat them if they raise theyir voices to normal speaking levels. Meanwhile, I have to resist the urge to punch them for NOT speaking at a normal volume. WTF is wrong with them? They obviously want information or assistance but go through this bullshit routine of fucking whispering.

Given me an honestly grumpy, even pissed off person speaking loud enough to be heard over these bitches. And it's always little old ladies! I'm not allowed to tell them to either speak up of fuck off, I have to keep at it until either I can figure out what the fuck they want or they get fed up and go away on their own (and the latter really is not the preferred outcome).

[Darmalus]

Have you considered keeping a megaphone handy to offer them? (I jest)

[LaCroix]

Hand them pen and paper, and hope their handwriting is more legible?

[Raw Shark]

REALLY DRUNK GIRL: So how long have you been Ubering?

YOUR DRIVER: Jesus Fucking Christ, it's a verb now?

[LadyTevar]

From my job interview:

Manager, reading off a list of questions: Have you ever worked Customer Service?
Me: My full job title for the last 8yrs was "Customer Service Representative -- Registrar"
Manager: Have you ever had to deal with a difficult customer
Me, thinking of all the ones I have met -- Yes. You just have to try to find the base problem, and ignore them if they call you everything but a White Girl.
Manager, eying me oddly -- Have you ever had to deal with people in authority.
Me, snorting -- I worked for the State. I dealt with the Medical Examiner's Office on a daily basis, with Funeral Home Directors, and with Hospitals.
Manager paraphrased -- (Can you work without constant supervision)
Me - We were handed the day's work, and expected to have it done by End of Day with no further discussions. I did.
Manager, getting more and more awkward about the questions as he realizes I may have a positive answer for each one: Have you ever been placed in a supervisory position.
Me: I've trained every temp worker who's worked for us for the last 5yrs.
Manager, puts down paper: OK, I'm going to be finishing interviews this week, and you'll hear something in the next two.

[fnord]

So, Tev, was that good or bad result?

[LadyTevar]

So, Tev, was that good or bad result?

Don't know, will know after Xmas.

[LaCroix]

Sounds like he already had some candidate in mind, any you were outperforming his favorite.

[Raw Shark]

Sounds like he already had some candidate in mind, any you were outperforming his favorite.

How dare you have better qualifications than the girl I want to fuck!?

[LadyTevar]

I went in to RiteAid today to pick up basic needs, and saw him. I greeted him politely (Mr.), and he looked at me like he'd never seen me before.

Not Good.

[Borgholio]

Sounds like he already had some candidate in mind, any you were outperforming his favorite.

Or she's more qualified than HE was and afraid she'd take his job. I've had that happen to me before...failed to get hired at the last interview before I landed my current job because I knew how to handle problem customers better than the bitch who was giving me the interview.

[Raw Shark]

GAY RAVER BOY: So I see you found yourself a scratching post tonight.

STRAIGHT RAVER BOY: Yeah, that girl was hot! I totally facebooked her!

GAY RAVER BOY: You what!? Boyfriend, that bitch was not hot. She was tacky.

STRAIGHT RAVER BOY: Are you serious? She looks like she does yoga, and was totally wearing her bra!

GAY RAVER BOY: Bitch, please. That bra was Playtex. She got that shit on clearance at JC Penney.

STRAIGHT RAVER BOY: But you could totally see her nipples! Why do you know so much about girl clothes, anyway?

GAY RAVER BOY: [perfect George Takei impersonation to general laughter] I read. Driver- [full name including middle initial off my hack license, which for the record I am really not cool about the new regulations requiring], how do you feel about this?

YOUR DRIVER: I've got to say, the nipple thing outweighs the clothing brand thing for me considerably. When I see that, I don't think, "This is cheaply-made," I think, "One half-step to boobies!"

STRAIGHT RAVER BOY: You see!

GAY RAVER BOY: [heavy sigh] Straight boys.

[Raw Shark]

COWBOY HAT: So, what happened to your face, man? You get into a fight?

DO-RAG: Nah, my girl just went crazy on me. She gave me six to the face in the elevator yesterday.

COWBOY HAT: You let your lady hit you?

DO-RAG: What'm I supposed to do, hit her back? It's not like she hits hard; I was like, "C'mon, Shortie! Try harder, you didn't even break my nose!" I'm not gonna break up with her as long as she looks like this [brandishes phone], unless she shoots me in the guts or tries to hit me with an axe or something.

COWBOY HAT: Damn, son.

YOUR DRIVER: Holy shit, man. Put that away before I crash this car.

DO-RAG: Yeah, as long as I get to hit that ass every night, she can hit my face all day long.

[Iroscato]

Elderly bespectacled gentleman: I've got some notes I need changing up, I need pound coins.

Your friendly post office counter clerk: Sorry sir, we can't actually process change unless you have a change card, it all has to be logged in our system. Try a bank.

EBG: Well fuck you an' all then! Little cunt!

YFPOCC: Thank you sir, have a lovely christmas!

EBG: *Walks off in a cloud of profane utterances*

I love my job

[Raw Shark]

TIPSY TEDDYBEAR: Hi, can you take my friend to Cap Hill? I'll give you twenty dollars.

YOUR DRIVER: I'm gonna need to speak with him first.

TIPSY TEDDYBEAR: Sure, no problem. [whispering] He's a little drunk. [Name], come here and talk to the taxi driver!

OBLITERATED OTTER: YOU'RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME!

YOUR DRIVER: Uh...

TIPSY TEDDYBEAR: [Name], just tell the man where you live and he'll take you there.

OBLITERATED OTTER: ARE YOU THE APPLIANCE!?

YOUR DRIVER: I'm sorry, what?

TIPSY TEDDYBEAR: [Name], don't be weird. Just tell him where you need to go.

OBLITERATED OTTER: ARE YOU ROYALTY!?

YOUR DRIVER: Uh, listen, guys, this guy is a little too-

OBLITERATED OTTER: [runs into traffic on glassy smooth ice] I AM THE PRINCE OF THE UNIVERSE! I WILL LIVE FOREVER!

TIPSY TEDDYBEAR: [Name!] Get back here!

OBLITERATED OTTER: I AM THE PRIN-AAAGH! [gets brushed by a fast-moving vehicle; spins like a top and goes down hard, spread-eagled on the ice; nearly causes a five-car pile-up, with two vehicles sliding off the road and one side-swiping two parked cars]

YOUR DRIVER: I'm not driving this guy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DRUNK BRITISH GUY: Sure, you can stay at my place.

[five minutes of my passengers making out in the back seat pass]

VERY DRUNK AMERICAN GIRL: Will you drive me back to my car in the morning?

DRUNK BRITISH GUY: Of course.

VERY DRUNK AMERICAN GIRL: You're not going to kidnap me, are you?

DRUNK BRITISH GUY: [laughs!] Of course! You'll be on a milk carton by next Tuesday.

VERY DRUNK AMERICAN GIRL: Really!? Are you some kind of international sex slave smuggler!?

DRUNK BRITISH GUY: Uh. No, I thought you were joking, sorry.

VERY DRUNK AMERICAN GIRL: I'm getting scared! What if you drug me and I wake up in chains on a boat?

DRUNK BRITISH GUY: Do I look like some kind of kidnapper-slash-pimp to you?

VERY DRUNK AMERICAN GIRL: I don't know what pimps look like where you're from! Driver, where are you taking me!?

YOUR DRIVER: Uh, to the address you guys told me when you got in...

VERY DRUNK AMERICAN GIRL: This doesn't look familiar! Are you guys in on this together? I swear to God, I have a six-inch knife in my purse and I will stab both of you in the heart!

YOUR DRIVER: That escalated quickly.

DRUNK BRITISH GUY: Maybe we should just drop you off at your place instead...

VERY DRUNK AMERICAN GIRL: Why? I thought we were hanging out.

[Broomstick]

Yesterday my boss, the acting day manager, and their boss the "General Line Manager" gave me some explicit instructions. My department is prepping for inventory, therefore, I am not to be called up to the cash register lanes at all until inventory is completed. If another manager attempts to call me up I am to tell said manager that I have been instructed to say "no", and by whom.

Sure enough, that very evening Manager Nemesis, a subordinate to the GLM, tells me to go up on the cash register. Actually, she first asks why the cosmetics aisle is such a mess (um... because customers have been up and down it all day?) and why isn't it cleaned up already? So I say, sure, I'll go clean it up right away.

Then, 10 minutes later, she calls me up on my department phone and tell me to go on the cash register.

As instructed, I start my speech "I have been instructed by [Person A], [Person B], and [Your Boss] to NOT go on cash register until inventory is over --"

Manager Nemisis: "You're done with that! You're just cleaning up! Do what I say!"

"Ma'am, I am just following instuctions, I have been told to tell you this -"

"Are you telling me "NO?""

"Ma'am, I am doing what I have been told -"

"ARE YOU DEFYING ME!?!?!"

At this point, I don't need a phone to hear her. I can hear her halfway across a big box store. She is threatening to escalate this up to the store director. The new store director who has been there all of two days. Oh, yeah, NICE way to get introduced to the new director, as a troublemaker.

"I AM IN CHARGE TONIGHT, YOU WILL DO WHAT I SAY!"

OK... we have a night manager bellowing like a wounded buffalo, a row of customers who want to give us money but lack a cashier, and Bitch Queen clearly wants to escalate this until she gets her way. Maybe she didn't get the memo. It's what, 19 days until inventory? So I caved and ran the register. Wound up skipping my third break. NOT happy, especially since I had a short turn around before going in early this morning and this sort of thing always makes it more difficult for me to get to sleep.

Went in this morning, clocked in, saw the GLM. Said "Hey, I had a little issue with someone last night..."

"Yes." he said. "I read Nemesis's memo."

Oh, lord. "So, she did write me up?"

"No, just an e-mail. It was really rambling and ridiculous."

"Oh. Want to hear my side of it?"

"Sure!"

After I was done (it didn't take long) he said my version made a lot more sense, she HAD been told I was off limits for the cash register, good job taking care of the customers, he was happy enough with how I handled the situation. And he would Have A Word with Ms. Nemesis. No, it's not just you, she has issues with a lot of people. And, apparently, a lot of issues last night, too.

I'm really wondering when this bitch-queen is going to learn her lesson. She can NOT provoke me into an outburst, and every time she fucks with me she's the one who ends up fucked.

I started a joke around the store today. About Ms. Nemesis and how we keep the douches in aisle 4. I'm hoping it becomes popular. I've already come up with plausible deniability in the event she hears it. I don't really want to play these sorts of bullshit games, but if someone insists....

[Lagmonster]

Me: When your guys create new positions, do they have to abbreviate the titles?
HR Lackey: Yep. The system only allows us to input so many characters, so we have to use abbreviations.
Me: You would, normally, review these abbreviations?
HR Lackey (concerned): Oh yes. Is there a problem?
Me: Well, I just got a call from the Assistant Director at PMC. He isn't taking kindly to being listed in the system as the "Ass Director".
HR Lackey: Oh. Ohhhh. OH!! (pause) Oh.

(They've done this before. We used to have a "Team Lead Ass." and an "Ass. to the Ass. Min." and my personal favourite, the "Dir. of Ass. Prod.")

[Alyrium Denryle]

God damn it. Raw Shark has inspired me. I know have to spill the beans on University Life. Some of these are from the undergraduate years, some are from grad work/teaching.

Jans Bike.

Location: ASU
Time Period: 2007
Names: (most)Changed to protect the guilty.

So, to begin this, it is worth noting that at ASU, we have a large number of Germans in the biology department. When Bert Hölldobler retired from Würtzburg, he "retired" to Arizona State and brought a bunch of germans with him, and set up his own little european style lab group on an entire floor of the Interdisciplinary Science Building. It is in this lab group that I spent two years of my life.

These germans run the gamut. Some are West-German, some are East German. Some of the East Germans have fond memories of East german paramilitary summer camp, others... Not So Much. But the most important thing is, some of them will make wry jokes about invading Poland while home for the holidays, and others will cry when you mention cattle cars in casual conversation. Jan is this later sort. We dont know why. He studies wasps, his dad studied beetles. We Dont Know What Opa Did. We Dont Ask. We Dont Mention The War.

After a long day of doing terrible things to parasitoid wasps, Myself, Jan, Peter, and David (who happens to be jewish, this will be important later) are going out for drinks. Jan and peter have their bikes.

It turns out that Jan never learned how to pop a wheelie on a bicycle. He described his first beetle at 12, but never did that. So Peter elects to teach him. This is a bit of a problem, because Jans bike is not suited for it. Thin wheels. So he borrows Peters bike, and leaves David holding on to his for about five minutes. Jan is not doing too well mastering the bicycle wheelie during this period.

David: You know, this is a really nice bike. I wont lie, I am kind of tempted to run off with it.

Me: That is not a good idea, Jan knows where you live.

David: Actually i moved two days ago, Jan has not been there yet.

Me: Oh. Well then. Do you really want every German in the department looking for you?

He blinks. Begins laughing so hard he has trouble breathing.

I realize I just accidentally made a holocaust joke with Jan--who is wracked with German Guilt if you mention kristallnacht--playing the part of the local Sturmbannführer. Needless to say, I cannot breath after that either.

Then poor Jan rides up.

Jan: Are you making fun of me because I cannot pop a wheelie on a bicycle?

David and I look at eachother. In that look that passed between us, we conclude that we Must Never Tell Him. Ever. And we cannot lie without upsetting him either. So, desperate gambit.

Me: Oh no, you were doing fine! We were laughing about something that happened in the lab earlier. One of Jürgen's Jürgenisms

David: Yeah Jan, we would not make fun of you. Dont worry about it (he says, as he desperately holds back laughter and only barely succeeds)

Jan is, of course, a very smart man. He is not buying it. Looking as us sideways he says

Jan: I think you're lying. I think you are making fun of me...

and he becomes a bit sad and dejected.

Bastard managed to guilt trip both of us into covering his drinks... and He Must Never Know.

......................

Rick's Ant Colony Adventure.

Location: Southern California
Time Period: 2007

So, it was the fourth of July, 2007. You know what happens on the fourth of july weekend every year? Why, Pogonomyrmex californicus breeds in a massive swarm like clockwork every year. Window of opportunity is 4 days long. So, guess where myself, Peter, Rick, and Dolezal (Rick and Dolezal's names are not changed) were on that weekend? You guessed it. In the middle of nowhere in southern california, about an hour away from a little town locally famous for its Pie.

And what were we doing? Kidnapping ant queens. Now, kidnapping ant queens can come in two different methodologies. One can collect them on the ground right after they mate, put them in a falcon tube and they will keep long enough to get them back to the lab. The other method is to dig up entire colonies that can be several meters deep and collect the virgin queens who have yet to mate.

We had two experiments we had to run, both methods were required. And Rick was tasked to do the digging (short straw).

There is absolutely no way to do this without getting your Everywhere stung by ants. Their venom is actually specialized for deterring mammalian nest predators, and is a neurotoxin that is not only more lethal drop for drop than cobra venom (thankfully, they dont carry very much), but causes excruciating pain. Take a red-hot needle. Stab it into your knuckle and wiggle it around like you are trying to strike oil. That is what Every Individual Sting is like.

You can see where this is going.

While the rest of us were walking around a nice grassy field picking sluttly little ant queens off the ground before they could dig their first nests, Rick (armed with a garden trowel) was like a dragon from the tales of yore, wrecking cities in search of its virgins and being pricked by the slings and arrows of the defenders.

Which meant periodically, we would hear the following from across the field.

"OWE!"
"GOD DAMNIT!"
"JESUS SHITFUCKINGONUOBGV"

etc.

By the time the day got too warm to work (at around noon) each of his hands had been stung upwards of 50 times. They were paralyzed, and would be for about eight hours.

Which meant when we went into town for pie, he tried valiantly to eat said pie with no movable digits. He failed horribly, and we had to assist him. By which I mean we got good sadistic laughs at his expense, as we hand fed him apple pie, complete with zooming airplane sounds, and thus completely emasculated him in public.

We also had to help him drink the large quantities of beer he required to help him forget his pain.