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  • Too Early For Proper English
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    Category: Employees

    Doesn’t Sound Like A Spring Chicken

    | NV, USA | Employees, Rude & Risque, Technology

    (Prostitution is legal in some parts of the state and there is a house of ill repute called ‘The Chicken Ranch’ in the area. Also ‘chicken ranch’ is sometimes used as slang referring to brothels in general. This conversation involves a database consultant from out of state.)

    Consultant: “Customers always ask me if their system is the worst I’ve ever seen, but I tell them that after 20 years there is little that surprises me. In fact one time I installed our software at a chicken ranch.”

    Employee: “Was it a real chicken ranch?”

    Consultant: “Oh, yeah! It was one of those sad ones where they stuff the birds into the little huts and then have to destroy the barns after harvesting because they are so contaminated. The eggs and chickens were considered production units and purchase orders had to be generated for materials and supplies. Our system worked great for them!”

    (The consultant walks away as he is called into the next office over.)

    Me: *to employee* “Yup, totally got where you were going with that. Clearly we’re from Southern Nevada because I had the exact same question.”

    The Help(less) Desk

    | USA | Employees, Ignoring/Inattentive, Technology

    (I need to get a particular set of files put on my work computer in order for one function of a program to work. I email a screenshot to my boss, who forwards it to the programmer. The programmer tells both of us that he’s no longer allowed to do installs like that and that I’d have to contact the help desk. I forward the entire email chain to the “help” desk, and five minutes later, a techie responds.)

    Techie: “I can fix that error message, I’ll need to remote into your computer and it’ll take me about 15 minutes to do the work. When is a good time?”

    Me: “1:00 would be fine, but just to confirm, it’s not an error message. It’s the fact that I don’t have the files I need for such-and-so task.”

    Techie: “Oh, that would be a different problem. We’ll try fixing the error first and then if that doesn’t work, we’ll send it on to the correct approver for that function.”

    Me: “That is NOT the problem, but whatever.”

    (At 1:00, the phone rings and Techie introduces himself and takes control of my computer. He is clearly puzzled, as he starts by trying one thing, then tries something else, then does something completely different, none of which have anything at all to do with the problem.)

    Techie: “Bear with me; I just recently started doing these types of tasks.”

    (For the next fifteen or so minutes, he fumbles around, reinstalls a program, discovers he did it wrong, uninstalls it, and reinstalls it again.)

    Techie: “Now, let’s see about cleaning up some of these shortcuts.”

    Me: “Wait, what? What the f*** do you think you’re doing? If I have shortcuts on my desktop, it’s because I NEED them! Don’t you touch them!”

    (I finally get him to leave my shortcuts alone, and he directs me to retry the action that had caused the problem. Of course the program errors and shuts down again, because all he did was uninstall and reinstall the program. He didn’t load the specific files I need.)

    Techie: “Oh, that means that your supervisor just didn’t give you permission in that program to do that function. I’ll email him and explain it.”

    Me: “Um, no. This is NOT something my supervisor can do in the program. Please contact the programmer to find out what is needed, because you clearly have no clue what you are talking about.”

    Techie: “Nope, it says right here in our documentation that your supervisor needs to give you permission in the program.”

    (He immediately hangs up the phone. Five minutes later, my boss comes over with a baffled look on his face, after receiving the email. I explain, and he goes back to his desk and emails the programmer again. The programmer emails the techie, and two hours later, the techie emails me to tell me that he had finally figured out the problem and when can he remote in again. We arranged it for 3:30, and right on the dot, the techie calls me up. He tells me some cock-and-bull story about how he worked SO HARD to figure out the problem and finally got the solution, as I hear him clicking away in the background. The only thing is, though, I’m watching my monitor, and it never changes to indicate that he has remoted in. The clicking and the monologue go on for another ten minutes or so, then techie announces happily:)

    Techie: “There! All installed! If you’ll just do CTRL-ALT-DEL and log back in, I’ll have you test it.”

    Me: “I’ve never been logged out.”

    Techie: “Sure you have, I logged in under my own ID on your computer and I installed all those files you needed.”

    Me: “Nope. I’ve been watching for the past ten minutes, and nobody has remoted in.”

    Techie: “Yes, I did. I installed all those files!”

    Me: “Are you sure you were remoting into the right computer?”

    Techie: “Of course I am! Your computer is named [LASTNAME_WRONGFIRSTNAME].” *pause* “Oh. Oh, s***!”

    Me: “Uh-huh. You probably want to try that again. And then you probably want to go back to the person whose computer you DID put the files on and take them all back off again.”

    It’s The Music That We Choose

    | Iceland | Employees, Musical Mayhem

    (For days, I have been getting calls from telemarketers. No matter how many times I say that I’m not interested, they keep calling. Even my mother can’t stop them. So, I get an idea. Whenever they call, I will mess with them by playing YouTube videos. Call one:)

    Telemarketer: “Hello. Would you like to purch—”

    (I then begin playing the Peanut Butter Jelly Time song.)

    Telemarketer: “Um… hello?”

    (The video keeps going, so the telemarketer hangs up. Call two:)

    Telemarketer: “Hello. Wou—”

    (I then start the music video ‘Bird is The Word,’ sung by Peter Griffin. Once again, they hang up. Call three:)

    Telemarketer: “Hello. Would you—”

    (I then play the music video ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ by Rick Astley. I could hear them swear as they hang up. Call four:)

    Telemarketer: “Hello. Wo—”

    (Getting tired of this, I released the big one and used the screamer sound effect in the Scary Maze Game. After the scream finished, I held the phone to my ear and began talking to them.)

    Me: “Can you still hear me?”

    Telemarketer: “Y… yes…”

    Me: “I’m tired of your crap. From now on, whenever you call me, this will be the sound you first hear. I will say this for the last time! I am NOT interested in anything you have to offer! Good bye.”

    (They stopped calling after that.)

    I’ll Have An Explanation On The Side

    , | Sydney, NSW, Australia | At The Checkout, Employees, Food & Drink, Ignoring/Inattentive

    (After a long day at work I decide I’m too tired to make dinner and opt for getting food from a well-known fast-food drive-thru on my way home.)

    Server: *over drive-thru speaker* “Hi, what can I get you?”

    Me: “Hi, could I get [Burger] as a small meal?”

    (The screen comes up with my order, saying ‘large meal.’)

    Me: “Oh, sorry, but I wanted a small meal, not a large.”

    (Screen changes to ‘medium meal’ and I decide that’s good enough.)

    Server: “What sides do you want?”

    Me: “Um… fries?”

    Server: “Which two sides do you want?”

    Me: “Um… well… fries and I take [Soda-pop] as the drink.”

    Server: “Yes, but which two sides do you want?”

    (I have no idea what he’s talking about and frantically start scanning the menus around me for a clue.)

    Server: “… Hello? What two sides do you want?”

    Me: “Ah, sorry, but what can I choose from?”


    Me: “Um, sorry? What options do I have?”

    Server: “What do you want for your two sides?”

    Me: “What can I choose from?”


    Server: “Please pull forward to pay.”

    (I am really confused at this point, pull forward, pay, and get my food soon after. When I open it up at home I look inside and see that I did get a mini cheeseburger and a box of popcorn chicken as sides. Only then do I vaguely remember an ad I had seen weeks ago about how you can create your own meal with your own sides. But why couldn’t that server just explain it to me?!)

    Big Guy Posse Meets Big Sky Country

    | San Antonio, TX, USA | Employees

    Security: “ID, please.”

    Me: *I give the guy my ID*

    Security: *slaps an intercom button* “Security, all hands up front.”

    Me: *about to s*** my pants* “What? What?! Wha—”

    (Five big guys show up at a run.)

    Security: “Everybody! This is what a Montana ID looks like.”

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