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Could Have Been Worse… Could Have Been Papyrus

, , , , | Right | May 17, 2024

Years ago, back when I was a university student, I got a temp job helping with the administration of entries for a local writing competition.

I was on email duty, answering queries from entrants. That’s when I happened across the following snotty email.

Entrant: “I am writing to tell you that I will not be taking part in your competition due to your excessive guidelines. I am so sick of all these requirements. It’s ridiculous. There are classes and articles telling writers how to do things. Perhaps there should be one for competitions and publishers to make sure you’re all doing the same thing. You need to get over yourselves.”

As a writer myself, I understood how frustrating it could be when every publisher, agent, magazine, and competition had different guidelines and rules.

I wrote back, apologising for any frustration our guidelines may have caused but explaining that they were in place for a reason. I wished him luck on his writing journey and left it at that.

His response?

Entrant: “F*** you, stuck-up b****.”

He was blacklisted from the competition, and quite possibly from others since the chair of the competition committee had contacts in other national and international competitions.

Do you want to know what the “excessive” formatting rules were that enraged him so?

Entries had to be in twelve-point Arial font, double-spaced, black.

Karma So Obvious A Kid Would Understand

, , , , , , , | Right | May 16, 2024

I work in a coffee place inside a big box store. I’ve just served a drink to a father and his young son, maybe five years old or so. The boy gets his chocolate and runs off with it. His father calls after him:

Father: “Don’t run, [Boy]!”

Of course, as five-year-old boys tend to do, he trips up and falls to the ground. He seems fine, but his drink has spilled everywhere. He catches us staring and starts to cry, mostly out of embarrassment. The boy’s father is kind but stern, checking his son for any injury.

Father: “This is why I said not to run, [Boy]. Now look what you did to the drink that the nice lady made for you.”

Me: *Coming by to clean up the spill* “Oh, well, accidents happen! If it’s okay with you, I can get him a replacement.”

Before the father can respond, another customer whom I just finished serving decides to join in the conversation.

Customer: “Kids are never gonna learn if y’all keep running in to kiss it all better and fix their mistakes for them.”

The customer makes one more smug look of self-congratulation, turns around, and walks smack-bang into a pillar next to the checkouts. Their coffee goes all over themselves and the pillar, drenches their sandwich, and ends up on the floor.

The customer stares at me, at the parent and child, and then back at me again as we all stare at them.

Customer: “Any chance I could…”

Staring intensifies.

Customer: *Walking away* “…yeah, yeah, I get it. Good one, universe…”

How To Handle A Handle Situation

, , , , , | Right | May 17, 2024

I am the manager on duty at the bar/restaurant one super busy night. We have two separate bars: one at the very entrance to the building and one at the back. I am floating between both bars to make sure all my other bartenders are doing okay.

I go to check on the back bar, and I notice that the tap handle for one of the draught beers is missing. At first, I think one of my coworkers is screwing with me since we all do silly s*** to each other frequently.

Me: “Yo, [Coworker], where is the [Beer Brand] handle?”

Coworker: “Oh, it’s gone? It wasn’t me!”

Me: “[Barback], you f****** with us again?”

Barback: “I swear, it’s not me!”

I even check with the kitchen staff, and no one has the handle. When I come back to the bar, I see some random dude reaching across my bar, attempting to unscrew a different tap handle!

Me: “You! What the f*** do you think you’re doing?!”

They all start laughing and his friends start chanting, “Busted!”

Me: “You’re all going to leave unless I get my tap handle back.”

Handle Stealer: “Anyone can reach them; it could have been anyone in this bar!”

Me: “That’s funny. I’ve been here for years, and no one else has been stupid enough to try that and think it’s okay.”

They all got kicked out because of him, and our beer rep got us a new handle within a couple of days. I sent the camera footage of the guy and all of his friends to every bar in the area (we bartenders like to keep local town networks) and made sure they couldn’t go out for a drink anywhere in town for a long while.

They’re Word-Pressed To Show Their “Skills”

, , , , , | Right | May 17, 2024

Client: “I know how easy it is to set this up; I used WordPress a couple of years ago. You just need to add a couple of plugins and copy my content. It takes no effort or skill. Frankly, I think you should do it for free.”

Me: “Sorry, I can’t go lower than my already-reduced rate of £20 per hour.”

Client: “Can you at least come down to £10 per hour?”

Me: “Sorry, £20 is as low as I can go.”

Client: “Fine. I’ll do it myself.”

A couple of days later…

Client: “Look, whatever, I’ll pay your ridiculous rates. Here’s what I need.”

Me: “Okay, great. I’ll get started first thing on Monday.”

Client: “I need it by Monday.”

It was Saturday.

After I read the content, the client claimed that they specialized in e-commerce and web development. Judging by the difficulty they had tweaking a WordPress site, something doesn’t add up here.

Tourists Versus Mother Nature

, , , | Right | May 16, 2024

I work at a fairly basic campsite. We just provide a big field with a few basic toilet/shower facilities and a small store near the entrance.

An unscheduled car has pulled up, and the driver is asking me about how much it is to rent a spot for the weekend. I tell him our price.

Tourist: “So affordable! There are four of us: me and the wife and our two kids. When can you have the tent up?”

Me: “What tent?”

Tourist: “We need you to build us our tent. For camping! Not much camping without a tent!”

Me: “We don’t provide a tent building service, sir. You do that yourself.”

Tourist: “Wait, you mean I have to build my own tent?!”

Me: “Uh… yes? We only provide the campsite and some basic toiletry facilities.”

Tourist: “Ugh… fine. Where do I get them?”

Me: “Get the what?”

Tourist: “The tents? Do you, like, bring them to me when I pick a spot, or…?”

Me: “Sir, you… bring the tents with you. You bring everything with you. All we supply are toilets and showers. We have a basic supply shop near the entrance that sells things like bug spray and some snacks, but we don’t provide tents.”

Tourist: “Wait… bug spray? You mean there are bugs out here?”

Me: “I think maybe camping isn’t for you, sir…”