Category: Holidays

One Year Folds And Another One Opens

| Paris, France | Bizarre/Silly, Holidays

(I’m in charge of my coworker’s files. One of the folders is very used and torn. It’s New Year’s Eve and everyone is a bit bored, tired and/or eager to go back home, so I try to be funny. I hold the used folder and I stare at it.)

Me: “You brave soldier! You’ve been working with us for 30 years and it was not easy. You did well, so now you really deserve to rest. R.I.P. dear friend.”

(I kiss the used folder and I drop it into the paper basket. Then I choose a new folder.)

Me: “I’m not going to lie to you, rookie! You’ve been chosen among all and you’re going to go through really, really rough times. Be strong, never give up, and we’ll be very proud of you!”

Coworker: “Yeah, good luck, folder!”

Weaving Through The Problem

| CO, USA | Employees, Holidays, Ignoring & Inattentive

(I receive a phone call two days before Christmas:)

Caller: “Hello, Miss, this is [Befuddled Sales Clerk] from [Local Yarn Shop]. Your [Indistinct Utterance] is here to pick up. We’re here till two on Christmas Eve.”

(Great, but I haven’t ordered anything. Could one of my visiting relatives have ordered something? I called The Local Yarn Shop, and with the help of Less Befuddled Sales Clerk, determine that the Indistinct Utterance is an item to do with weaving. I don’t weave, nor do the visiting relatives. Less Befuddled Sales Clerk thinks she sees how the mistake was made, and we agree to release it to the universe.)

(Three days after Christmas:)

Caller: “Hello, miss, this is [Befuddled Sales Clerk] from [Local Yarn Shop]. I called you about [Indistinct Utterance]. There was a mistake, and I was unaware that there was a mistake, and now we corrected the mistake. So now we’re going to call the owner of the [Indistinct Utterance]; if you have any questions, please call us back.”

(I do have some questions: why would I care, and doesn’t the staff communicate with one another?)

Home For The Holidays… Finally

| QC, Canada | Bosses & Owners, Holidays, Overtime

(I am fed up with my employer not giving a s*** about employees and am clear with my supervisor that I am looking for something else. In December, ten days before Christmas, I have a final interview for a new job and get it. I call my boss right away.)

Me: “Got the job. I will be quitting on December 23.”

Supervisor: “On the 23rd? When do you begin your new job?”

Me: “January 4th.”

Supervisor: “Can’t you just, you know, wait for the 4th in the morning to quit?”

Me: “Really, and work Christmas and New Year?”

Supervisor: “Well… yes.”

Me: “Do you realize that, one of the key reasons I’m quitting is that I had to work ALL the holidays of the year, non-stop, for the past four years and although I complained, you never did anything about it, and now you want me to work them again as a favor before quitting?”

Supervisor: “Well, that would be nice. Otherwise I will have to ask someone else to cover it for you.” *these “someone else” are his pals…*

Me: “I’m leaving on the 23rd. It’s either that or right now.”

(We had to work together for the following week (my last), and he barely talked to me. Turned out that, since the two other possible guys that could take my place already had vacation time “confirmed,” if none of them cancelled their vacation to take my place, my supervisor would have had to fill-up for me, thus screwing his Christmas. But for me, having to work on Christmas for the fifth year in a row was just… normal.)

Biblical Middle-Eastern Jews Should Be White

| San Antonio, TX, USA | Bigotry, Coworkers, Holidays

(I am working in a 50s themed restaurant. At the time this happens I am working with a woman who seems to think that since I am blonde and blue-eyed she is free to unload racist rants at me.)

Woman: “And that church had a black baby Jesus for the nativity set! Can you believe it? The nerve of them. How can they dare to suggest that Jesus was black? What about you? Don’t you think Jesus should always be white?”

Me: “I was always under the impression that Jesus was Jewish.”

(She shut up and left me alone after that.)

The Boss Didn’t Record Your Request

| London, England, UK | Bosses & Owners, Holidays, Ignoring & Inattentive, Non-Dialogue

It is Christmas 1988.

I have a recording studio based out of a big studio rehearsal complex in South London and have been working for three days on recording and producing some backing tapes for a client, who also happens to be an old friend. The last day we spend on the mixdowns and at about 9:30, we decide to take a timeout and go to the local pub for some refreshment, to rest our ears, and to generally chew over what we’ve done. While we are blowing the froth off a couple, another old friend along with his significant other turns up. Since we all know each other, we decide to carry on until closing time.

As it is getting late, I suggest we all go back to the studio, listen to the mixes we’ve done, and call it a day. As we are walking down the main corridor, we come across the studio manager who is busy restocking the beer machine in the green room. I tell him that we are just going downstairs to listen to what we’ve been doing and wrap things up. I also tell him not to lock up before checking with me.

We settle down and listen to the first track. At the end, one of our party has to go to the loo and so he goes off in search of relief while we carry on. The second track has barely started playing when he comes back saying that all the security gates in the corridor are locked and the lights are off!

Thinking this is a monumental wind-up I go to investigate… and sure enough, the lights are off and the gates closed up tighter than a nervous sphincter attempting to rein in the purgative effects of a themonuclear-grade vindaloo. As I go back downstairs to the studio, I also notice that the rear fire exit doors have been chained up. I try to call the studio owner but get no joy, so we sit there for a while trying to work out what to do. My friend in particular is rather concerned as he is off to the Middle East first thing in the morning to start shooting a commercial.

Eventually I decide the only hope was to call the Fire Brigade and get them to break down the fire exit doors. Twenty minutes go past…no Fire Brigade. Thirty minutes…you guessed it. By this time, I have lost my patience, so grabbing my toolbox I go upstairs to the fire exit and proceed to dismantle the entire thing from the inside. I eventually manage to get it open only to be confronted by a big burly fireman about to lay into the door with a fire axe. I manage to avoid being sliced in two by the simple expedient of stepping rapidly to one side. The rest of the firemen enter and check out the entire building while I regale the lead officer with our tale of woe, much to his evident amusement.

As you might imagine, I am not best pleased with the incident so the next day about lunchtime, I storm into the office — small portable thundercloud in tow — and in front of the studio owner and his wife proceed to lay down some serious and heavy invective upon the head of the hapless studio manager, calling into question his dubious parentage, and threatening to attach his gonads to the output terminals of the largest Class A power amplifier I can find if there is ever a repeat of the entire sorry débâcle.

The studio owner is none too pleased either, having been read the riot act by the Fire Brigade that morning. He is also furious that, in order to deal with the considerable fallout from the incident, he’s had to cancel the flight he’d booked to the States for that evening, which means that he and his wife aren’t going to be able to visit their family until the New Year.

The flight he was booked on — but had to cancel — was Pan Am 103.

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