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    Change Can Be Difficult, Part 2

    (My sister is checking out at a popular retail store. The total comes out to $14.01. My sister hands the cashier $15.)

    Sister: “Hang on, I have a penny.”

    (The cashier ignores her and starts counting out change while she pulls out a penny.)

    Sister: “Here, just give me a dollar back.”

    Cashier: “What?”

    Sister: “Take this penny, and then just give me a dollar back.”

    Cashier: “I already calculated the change in the machine. My register won’t be balanced.”

    Sister: “Okay, but if I give you a penny, and you give me a dollar it will still be balanced.”

    Cashier: “But the register says 99 cents!”

    Sister: “I know, so you give me a dollar, and I give you a penny, it evens out.”

    (The cashier looks visibly distraught and hands my sister a bunch of change.)

    Cashier: “I’m really sorry. I don’t know what you want me to do!”

    Related:
    Change Can Be Difficult

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    Breaking Bank

    (I was recently made redundant at the time this happened, and have had to cut back on expenses. I am paying off a cancelled credit card at about NZ$20 a week from my meagre unemployment insurance. At 9 am once a fortnight, I receive phone calls from the bank which are unhelpful but relatively pleasant. Then, this happens…)

    Me: “Hello?”

    Employee: “Yes, this is [name] from the credit facility of [bank]. Our records show you have been paying off the amount which you owe at a rate of $20 each Friday of each week. ”

    Me: “Yes, and as I have explained, I am unable to pay any more at present.”

    Employee: “I understand, but why are you not paying a greater amount?”

    Me: “Because I am unable to pay any more with my current expenses and earnings.”

    Employee: “I understand that. So, you’ll be paying more from this week? The more you pay, the faster you will pay off the debt, and you want to do that or else your credit rating—”

    Me: “—will be adversely affected. Yes, I understand that. Thing is, I don’t earn more than $320 total each week.”

    Employee: “I understand that. We would expect that you paid a relatively small amount of your earning each week, say a thousand dollars, as a minimum.”

    Me: “A thousand dollars is and never has been a small amount of my earnings, even when I was working! I’d have to be running a methamphetamine lab to make enough to afford that each week!”

    Employee: “That’s a good idea, sir! Would you consider such a venture?”

    Me: “Pardon?”

    Employee: “If that would assist you making the payments, [bank] would be happy to help you. Would you need some bridging finance to start this venture?”

    Me: “You do realise what you are asking, don’t you?”

    Employee: “Of course. You wish to start a small business venture and we at [bank] would happily—”

    Me: “—finance a criminal enterprise?”

    Employee: “I beg your pardon?”

    Me: “You do understand that making methamphetamine is illegal in this country?”

    (There are a few moments of silence, except for rapid typing noises.)

    Employee: “…Oh, yes. I remember now. I had forgotten because I was thinking about the Rugby football match this weekend between the Blues and the Warriors, sir.”

    (Note to American and foreign readers: this is like a person telling you they are in Cleveland to watch an ice hockey match between the Cavaliers and the Browns—two utterly different codes of sport between teams from the same town.)

    Me: “I’ll pay you what I can when I can, okay?”

    Employee: “That would be acceptable, sir.”

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    Lock, In Stock, And Bullheaded

    Me: “Excuse me? Can you tell me where the locks are?”

    Sales Associate: “We don’t have locks here.”

    Me: “Really? None at all?”

    Sales Associate: “No.”

    Me: “Can you check?”

    Sales Associate: “We don’t sell locks here!”

    Me: “Alright. Thanks, I guess…”

    (After a few minutes, I manage to find some locks and return to the sales associate.)

    Me: “I found them hanging by the coloured duct tape, just so you’re aware for next time.”

    Sales Associate: “No! We don’t sell any locks!”

    Me: “…”

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    Dressing Up Can Lead To Dressing Downs

    | Montreal, QC, Canada | Bosses & Owners, Crazy Requests, Top

    Supervisor: “You are aware of the dress code, right? No flip-flops, no t-shirts with offensive pictures or slogans, nothing torn or dirty, and nothing too short or revealing.”

    Me: “I… I’m not doing any of these things. Ever.”

    Supervisor: “Exactly! You are always so elegant with your black dresses and nice jewelry. I just want to make sure you’re aware that you are allowed jeans and sneakers here. We are not that kind of office!”

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    Oh Romeo, Where-fired Art Thou

    (I just started a new job and everyone tells me about “Romeo,” a real ladies’ man around the office. He makes sexual advances towards me. I decline but he is very insistent.)

    Romeo: “So, [my name], you wanna go it to my place tonight?”

    Me: “No, thanks.”

    Romeo: “Why not?!”

    Me: “I don’t like mixing business with work.”

    Romeo: “You’re boring. Okay then…”

    (A few months pass…)

    Romeo: “I got a new girlfriend.”

    Me: “Congratulations!”

    Romeo: “Yeah, she and I…”

    (He starts recanting all they have done together intimately in graphic detail.)

    Me: *uncomfortable* “Okay…”

    Romeo: “Don’t believe me? I’ll bring her by sometime.”

    Me: “That’s okay…”

    (Next day, he brings a girl.)

    Romeo: “Hey [my name]! This is my girl.”

    Me: “Nice to meet you.”

    Romeo: “I bet you wish you were her right now!”

    (Unbelievably, they start engaging in heavy PDA with the girl right on my desk, complete with groping, spit swapping, tongues, and nearly undressing.)

    Me:  ”Uh, could you not do that here? I’m trying to work.”

    Romeo: “You’re just jealous!”

    (He doesn’t stop, and proceeds to have nearly have sex with her in front of everyone. I run and go to the boss’s office and tell him what’s happening.)

    Boss: *laughs* “Oh, so he finally got a girl, eh? Atta boy. Don’t worry, just ignore it. That’s just the way he is.”

    Me: “…”

    (I quit soon after that, and filed sexual harassment charges against the company. Turns out, Romeo was the owner’s son!)

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