Sả là một gia vị được nhân ta dùng phổ biến, đồng thời cũng là một cây thuốc chữa bệnh và trừ côn trùng tốt.
Sả là loại cây thảo sống dai, cao khoảng 1m, mọc thành bụi (tên khoa học là Cymbopogon Citratus (L.) Pers.), thuộc họ lúa (Poaceae). Củ sả là một gia vị được dùng trong chế biến nhiều món ăn, chủ yếu là để kích thích tiêu hoá, khử được mùi tanh của cá, thịt, giúp thức ăn thêm thơm ngon.
Theo Đông y, sả vị the, mùi thơm, tính ấm, có tác dụng làm ra mồ hôi, thông tiểu tiện và tiêu thực. Sả được dùng chủ yếu làm thuốc chữa cảm sốt, đầy bụng, tiêu chảy...
Liều lượng mỗi ngày 8 - 12g lá và củ sả dưới dạng thuốc xông hay thuốc hãm. Phổ biến nhất là nồi nước xông lá sả phối hợp với một số lá khác như lá tre, lá cúc tần, lá bưởi, lá tía tô. cây ngãi cứu.. mỗi thứ một nắm, đem nấu nước xông cho ra mồ hôi để chữa cảm sốt, nhức đầu.
Tác dụng chính của sả là ở tinh dầu. Trong lá sả có tinh dầu, thành phần chủ yếu là geraniola và citronelola. Vì vậy, khi ta vò lá sả thấy có một mùi thơm đặc biệt phảng phất mùi thơm của chanh.
Tinh dầu sả bôi lên da hoặc phun trong nhà có thể xua đuổi được ruồi, muỗi và các loài côn trùng khác như dĩn, bọ chét... do đó thường được dùng làm thuốc trừ muỗi và khử mùi hôi.
Phụ nữ cũng thường nấu nước lá sả để gội đầu cho trơn tóc, sạch gầu và có thể tránh được một số bệnh về tóc.
Ngoài ra, củ sả và tinh dầu sả còn dùng để chữa một số bệnh thông thường như : Lấy 3 - 6 giọt tinh dầu sả pha với xi-rô và nước, cho bệnh nhân uống để chữa đau bụng, đầy bụng, chống nôn và thông trung tiện. hoặc thái cũ sã đem ngâm rượu đễ dành khi đau bụng gió uống 1 li nhỏ
Bosses & Owners, Crazy Requests, Farm, Office, USA | Working | May 5, 2020
I am the manager of a farm and I am in charge of the care of the horses and maintenance of the farm. My supervisor is the assistant trainer and is in charge of teaching lessons and riding the horses. I have nothing to do with my supervisor’s schedule.
Boss: “Did you take a lunch break on Saturday?”
Me: “Yes?”
Boss: “Did [Supervisor] take lunch?”
Supervisor: “No.”
Boss: *To me* “Why did you get a lunch break if she didn’t? If you have time to take lunch, you need to offer to buy [Supervisor] and the other workers lunch, too, since they didn’t have time.”
Yeah, I am not spending my own money to buy everyone food. I made hardly any money. I didn’t even go out for lunch.
Deli Employees Patience Wears As Thin As Sliced Turkey
Employees, Grocery Store, Jerk, Pennsylvania, USA | Working | May 4, 2020
My mom goes to the deli and orders a certain type of turkey but forgets to ask for it to be sliced thin. As the girl behind the counter starts slicing it, my mom speaks up.
Mom: “Oh, could you make sure to slice that thin, please?”
The girl keeps slicing and does not acknowledge that she heard anything, so my mom, thinking she must be too far away for the girl to have heard her properly, gets the attention of another deli worker walking by.
Mom: “Could you ask her to slice that thin, please?”
British Columbia, Bus, Canada, Employees, Jerk, Public Transport, Victoria | Working | May 4, 2020
I use my bus pass as a bookmark, figuring that with how much I love reading there would be no possible way I could ever lose it. One day, I am distracted while getting off, and only while it is pulling away do I realize I left my book on the bus. Since there isn’t really anything I can do about it, I just walk to the exchange stop, and when the next bus I need to catch pulls in, I approach the driver.
Me: “Are you able to contact the other buses?”
Driver: *Immediately hostile* “WHY?”
Me: *Startled pause* “Well, I left my bus pass on the #3.”
Driver: “No, I can’t contact the other buses. Do you have any idea how many there are on the roads at one time? Now, there are other people wanting to get on, so…”
He makes a dismissive shooing motion.
Me: “But… I also need to get home.”
Driver: “Where’s home?“
Me: “[Area he’s headed to].”
The driver sighs and waves me along. I take my seat and settle in for the hour-long trip. After maybe thirty minutes, we get to another hub and the driver comes up to me.
Driver: “Hey, I’m sorry about how I acted. I just get a lot of people trying to pull s***, so… here. This is a temporary pass that’ll let you ride for the next three days. Hopefully, you’ll be able to get your card back from the lost and found before it runs out.”
Unfortunately, it took over a week before the lost and found people recovered my book and pass, resulting in me spending a significant amount of money on tickets. But in the end, I was finally able to finish the story, and now I have one of my own I can tell people.
Customer Service, Employees, Jerk, USA | Working | May 4, 2020
I try to purchase an entry into a giveaway online without realizing that the company that runs the giveaway is based in the UK, and as such, my purchase is blocked. I don’t realize this initially and try to put it through three times before getting a call about possible fraudulent charges. Because I want to approve one purchase but not the duplicates, I select to speak to a representative.
I explain what happened, and he explains that there is an international purchase block on my card and that I will need to contact my bank for it to go through. I decide it’s not worth it to make another call and try again, and at this point I just want to confirm with this company that there was no fraud, and that my card is safe and usable.
The entire time we are speaking, he is talking over me, barely letting me finish my sentences, and seems to be rushing through what he has to say to finish as soon as possible. On calls like this, I like to at least double-check and confirm as clearly as possible that everything I need taken care of has been taken care of.
I am trying to ask these questions, but the representative keeps plowing through and speaking over me. Finally, I’ve had enough.
Me: “Excuse me! Can you please let me speak?!”
Representative: “Of course, go ahead.”
Me: “I just want to confirm that my card will not be charged three times for this, and that my debit card won’t be locked if I try to make any purchases today.”
Representative: *Clearly annoyed* “It won’t be charged. You have to contact your bank to approve that. I thought I made that obvious.”
Me: *Upset now* “Yes, I just wanted to confirm so that I was certain.”
The call finished, and by that point, I felt so ignored and frustrated that I burst into tears once I hung up. A tip: please actually LISTEN to your customers and LET THEM SPEAK if you hear them talking.
Ah, Yes, The Old “Ignore It And Hope It Goes Away” Strategy
Employees, Health & Body, Jerk, Lafayette, Lazy/Unhelpful, Louisiana, Skating Rink, USA | Working | May 4, 2020
I am fourteen years old and not very assertive. I go to a rollerskating rink with a friend who’s a year younger than me. My friend spots a few friends of hers and goes off briefly to skate with them, but while she’s gone, I trip on the skating rink and end up hurting my elbow. My friend comes up, and I tell her that I think I’ll be okay. I sit at a booth on the edge of the rink, but the pain doesn’t fade and feels pretty bad.
I approach the concession stand. Half a dozen employees are there, and they all pause to look at me.
Employee: “Hi. What can we get you?”
Me: “I fell on the rink and hurt my elbow…”
The employees immediately scattered and started doing other things. I stood there for an instant, hoping they would come back to me, but they didn’t.
I left and sat back down, unsure what to do. I eventually got back up, went back to the stand, and specifically asked for some ice. They gave me some in a cup. I sat back down and waited for my friend’s mom to pick us up.
When I told my dad about it later, he suggested that the employees didn’t want to be liable for my accident, so that’s why they ignored me. I wonder why the employees would expect a fourteen-year-old girl to sue them.
Bosses & Owners, Craft Store, Employees, Jerk, Pennsylvania, USA | Working | May 3, 2020
I paint in my spare time, and so I frequent a nearby arts supply store. I am looking for a specific size of canvas— 10″ x 20″ — to finish the third of a three-piece series I’m working on. However, the only 10″ x 20″ canvases I can find are in a package of six. This isn’t a problem, but the top canvas has about a one-inch tear in it, rendering it unusable, so I really would only get five canvases out of it. I take the pack to the cashier.
I’ve worked retail before, so I know of the possibility of damage discounts, and I am decidedly NOT a jerk to cashiers when I ask about these things.
Me: “Hi. I wanted to see if you’d be able to give me a damage discount on this pack of canvases. These are the only 10” x 20”s you have, and I can’t use this top one because of that tear.”
Cashier: “You’re sure that’s the only one? There are no others on the floor?”
Me: “Yeah, I walked around to all the places you’ve got canvases a couple of times to make sure. I need this size, and this is the only pack you’ve got. Not even singles.”
Cashier: *Very hesitant* “I don’t know if I’m allowed to do that. I’d need to talk to my manager.”
Me: “That’s fine.”
The cashier calls a manager and he comes to her register. She explains the situation and my request. The manager frowns.
Manager: “And there weren’t any other canvases in this size?”
I’m a little annoyed but understand that they have to ask.
Me: “No, I’ve looked all around.”
Manager: “Well, our only other option would be to open up the package and resell each one by itself. We could let you buy one that way.”
Me: “What? No. I’ll still use all the good ones. You don’t have to unpackage it. I just don’t want to pay for six canvases when I’ll only be able to use five. Do you see what I mean?”
The manager pauses, and I’m confused as to exactly why they’re so hesitant. If they can’t do it, they could just say so. And if they can, why the reluctance? Both he and the cashier seem uninterested in giving me an answer at all, let alone granting my request. Finally, the manager speaks in a “you’re not going to like this” tone.
Manager: “Well, it’s not going to be a very big discount. You’re not going to save much at all.”
Me: “Well, how much would you take off if you were to do it?”
Manager: *In the same tone* “Probably only ten percent.”
Me: “Oh. That’s fine. I don’t need a huge discount. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t paying for product I wouldn’t use.”
The manager pauses again and shrugs.
Manager: “Okay, then.”
They finally put the discount through, and I left. It was the weirdest transaction, like they were just acting like they were trying to accommodate me by giving me a “low” discount, and hoping I’d just tell them to forget it. I wasn’t rude and I wasn’t pushy. I just wanted to know if it was an option. I wouldn’t have even cared if they’d said no, so long as they gave me an answer instead of playing games!
College & University, Coworkers, Ignoring & Inattentive, USA, Virginia | Working | May 2, 2020
I work in my university’s IT department. We manage hardware like microphones and cameras for the staff working in the same building as us. Occasionally, we have issues with customers returning equipment to the adjacent computer lab instead of to us even though we’re open, or simply not returning the equipment if we’re closed.
My coworker, who manages the hardware for our office, decides that he’s had enough, and he puts a sign on our front door. He leaves feeling satisfied, and I don’t think anything of it.
The next day, within ten minutes of unlocking the front door, I watch a customer approach. She stops and stares at the sign for a moment. She looks at me and I put on my customer service smile even though I’m still waking up. She looks back at the sign on the door and looks confused. Then, she turns and walks away.
I think that is odd, but we have people approach to read some of the signs hung up in our window all the time, so I don’t think much about it. A minute later, the woman appears from behind me, asking about buying a laptop. My heart almost stops.
We share office space with the university’s technology store, so the sales representative steps up and begins talking to the customer and mercifully walks her back around the front desk to where the merchandise is set up.
After a moment’s confusion, I look around to the back room and see the door to the computer lab support cubicles open. She went all the way around past the computer lab support desk, went through their office, and tracked down the side door that connected to our office. We typically keep it locked, but apparently, it was not locked this morning.
Baffled, I turn back as the sales representative concludes a pitch.
“Well, I’ll have to think about it,” the customer says, and she begins walking back around the front desk.
The sales representative says, “Um, ma’am, you can go out through the front door.”
“Oh. You keep reminding me, but I keep forgetting.”
With that, she leaves through the front. I give her a moment to leave and then start laughing with the sales representative about how bizarre it was that she went all the way out of her way and snuck in behind us.
After a moment’s thought, I go around and check the new sign on our door. It’s right above the handle so anyone trying to get in would see it.
“If LOCKED, return equipment to computer lab support desk.”
At the bottom, a huge arrow points toward the other desk.
A few minutes later, another coworker approaches, sees the sign, and enters, confused.
Making Contact With The Right Employee Can Be Eye-Opening!
Awesome Workers, Customer Service, Germany, Inspirational | Working | May 1, 2020
My boyfriend and I have just booked plane tickets for a well-deserved vacation. I’m near-sighted and have been using contacts for a little over a year, after fifteen years of wearing glasses, so I’m afraid that some issue can come up with my contacts while abroad.
I get the contacts delivered by mail and when I sign up for this service I am told that I can get a free pair once a year, when I go on vacation. Because my address has recently changed, I call the service hotline to notify them of that, and since I’m already on the phone with them, I decide to ask about the vacation contacts.
Me: “So, I don’t exactly remember how this was supposed to work, but when I signed up, I was told I can request a free pair before going on vacation, should I happen to lose the contacts.”
Customer Service: “Wait, who told you this?”
Me: “Um, it was the lady who told me of this service and signed me up for it… in my local [Store]’s location.”
Customer Service: “I’m sorry, she must have gotten something wrong. This is something we used to offer, but it’s not been active for the last couple of years. This lady told you this last year?”
Me: “Yes, in March. She tested my eyes and took the measurements for the contacts, and then signed me up when I decided to get them so that I could get a new pair every month.”
Customer Service: “Okay, she definitely was giving you the wrong information, I guess she really forgot this was no longer an offer we make. But I’ll be sending you a complimentary pair, anyway, because you were informed wrong.”
I’m now totally scared that I’m THAT customer that always demands free things.
Me: “Oh, you don’t have to. It’s all right; I can just order an additional pair and then cancel the following month’s order. I really didn’t want to leech off—”
Customer Service: “Don’t worry about it; you were given the wrong information, so this is something small I can do for you to compensate you for it. Now, should I have them sent to your new address?”
Me: “Yes, please. And this is so nice of you! Thank you very much!”
I’m logging in to the portal right now to see if I can rate this call and give some positive feedback for this representative. It’s a small thing, really, and something I wasn’t expecting, or demanding, so it took me completely by surprise.
Extra Stupid, Office, Pennsylvania, Phone Scam, USA | Working | May 1, 2020
Me: “Good morning, [Office].”
Caller: “Good morning! This is [Caller] with customer service, and I’m calling in regards to your copier!”
The office did get a new copier a few months ago. However, we are often in contact with the business, and we have a specific customer representative who works with us, and his name is not [Caller].
Me: “Okay…”
Guy: “Yes, we need the make and model of your copier so that we can send you an updated invoice!”
Me: “So, you’re with [Copier Business]?”
Guy: “Yes.”
I glance at my caller ID.
Me: “Then why does my caller ID show you as ‘Unknown Caller, Blocked Number’?”
There was an indrawn breath on the other line and then he hung up.
Don’t Take A Page Out Of This Page’s (Really, Really Neat) Book
Coworkers, Ignoring & Inattentive, Lazy/Unhelpful, Library, Nevada, New Hires, USA | Working | May 1, 2020
The pages at our library mostly work by themselves, but we team up an hour before the library closes at 6:00. We have a new page, and I’m training her about our closing duties: straightening the books on the shelves, picking up books that patrons left on tables and chairs, etc. She’s working pretty slowly, so I go over to check up on her.
Me: “Okay, good job! Just keep in mind that while we want the books to look nice and neat, it doesn’t need to be perfectly lined up.”
This is my indirect way of telling her she needs to speed up.
New Page: “No! The very top row needs to be brought all the way to the front! The edges need to be flush! This is the correct way!”
I’m surprised by her backtalk.
Me: “Well… yes, ideally. But this is a pretty big library, so if we try to make each shelf perfect, we’ll never get done, and half the library will still be a mess. Anyway, just keep the time that we have in mind.”
She seems to take the hint and tries her best to keep up with me. I expected her to work slowly, so she actually does well enough on her first day, and I figure she’ll only improve. The second day, we work with another page, [Coworker]. Because there are three of us, we start later than we usually would. However, [New Page] is working much more slowly than before. My supervisor, who has other things to do and never performs closing duties with us, comes over to baby the new page a bit, giving her some tips to help her work faster before leaving her in our hands.
Coworker: “[New Page], when you finish those shelves, move on to the nonfiction section. The two of us are starting from the end close to the audiobooks, so just come find us.”
[Coworker] and I move on to the next area and speedily work together to get it cleaned up. When we’re halfway done, we realize something.
Me: “Wait, where’s [New Page]?”
We look for her and find her still in fiction, going over shelves that have already been done and trying to make them perfectly straight.
Coworker: “[New Page], those books are straight enough! Come on!”
We drag her to the next section and I work alongside [New Page] for a while, keeping an eye on how she works and trying to coach her into working faster. I leave to finish up the rest of nonfiction, and she’s stuck on the same row of shelves.
Me: “Okay, [New Page], the reference and foreign language sections are next. Join us over there when you finish that shelf.”
[Coworker] and I go to those areas and start working as fast as we can to make up for the time we’ve lost babysitting [New Page]. We’re concentrating so much on our work that we don’t realize right away that she’s missing again.
Coworker: “Oh, God… Where is she?”
We backtrack to the previous section, and sure enough, she’s “fixing” the shelves that are already straightened.
Me: *Really frustrated* “[New Page]! I told you that we had to straighten up reference and foreign language next! We’ve already gone over those shelves!”
We drag her over to reference so that we can finish up while she barely does anything. It’s running really close to 6:00, and two more sections still need to be cleaned up.
Me: “[New Page], can you go over to health and science and help [Coworker]? I’ll go over to the young adult section.”
[New Page] follows me like a lost puppy. I decide, “To heck with it; she can help me, instead.”
Me: “[New Page], can you handle those shelves over there while I do these?”
She doesn’t. She hovers about asking me questions.
New Page: “Do I have to clock out right at the hour?”
Me: “No, you don’t have to. You actually have seven minutes after 6:00 before you absolutely have to clock out, but no one stays that long unless it’s really messy. Anyway, I want to keep you a couple minutes after just to quickly show you how we do sorting.”
New Page: “Okay.”
I continue working as fast as I can while she idly stands by and watches.
Me: “Okay, finally done here. We don’t have time to actually do all of the sorting, but I can at least show you–”
New Page: *Frantically* “But it’s 6:00! I need to clock out!”
It was actually still a few more minutes until 6:00, but she ran off to the back room anyway so that she could wait there before clocking out. [Coworker] and I did as much as we could in the sorting room before heading back. Even though it was after 6:00, [New Page] is still there. She left only moments before I clocked out.
The next day, after we spoke with our supervisor about her poor work ethic and utter lack of teamwork skills, it was decided that [New Page] would be stuck in the fiction section. For a long time, the only thing she was ever responsible for was putting away fiction and closing that area by herself; however, she worked so slowly that we often had to help her finish up. She never really got any better at her job, but she was never fired.
British Columbia, Canada, Employees, Great Stuff, Instant Karma, Jerk, Nightclub, Non-Dialogue | Working | May 1, 2020
Apologies to nightclub bouncers, but every job has its idiots that make everyone else look bad.
When my youngest son was about twenty or so — legal drinking age — he decided to check out a new night club that had opened about two weeks before. As the establishment was still new, there was a line out the door and about half a block up the sidewalk.
My son wanted to ask what the wait time was, so he asked the bouncer, a big mouth-breather sitting at the entrance, how long the wait would be. The guy told my son to F-off and get to the back of the line.
At that moment, the “bouncer” was called in to the club and left his station. More importantly, he left the hand stamper that allows admission on his little table. My son, a little pissed off by this guy’s attitude and by that point not at all interested in going into the club, grabbed the stamp and very politely made his way along the long line of people waiting to get in.
“You’re in, and you’re in, and you’re in…” He just went through the line on the sidewalk stamping people’s hands and they gratefully charged into the club. As the bouncer had left his post there was nobody to check them, but they had stamps, so the club ended up being full and having at least another fifty people crowded in.
My son had got about halfway through the line when the idiot came up to him, demanded the stamp back, and informed him he was banned for life from the club. My son laughed, handed over the stamp, and left. The club closed about three months after.
I love my son; he doesn’t get mad but instead uses people’s idiocy for good.
Australia, Coworkers, Employees, Lazy/Unhelpful, Office, Sydney | Working | May 1, 2020
A coworker is always late in the morning; her excuse is the distance. We live along the same train line but her station is 25 minutes further away from mine; it takes me an hour to get to work on a train that takes me directly to the town we work in.
One day, my coworker asks me which train I catch as I am always at work on time.
Me: “I get [Train]; it’s pretty quick as it only stops at [Major Stations] before it gets to the city.”
Coworker: “Oh, that one leaves my station too early for me and I don’t like stopping at all of the stations because it makes the trip so much longer for me.”
Me: “But isn’t that the last train that will get you to work on time?”
Coworker: “Yeah, but I hate all those stops, so I wait for [Express Train] which gets me into the city without stopping; it only takes 45 minutes and I am there not long after your train goes through.”
Me: “But that still makes you late, doesn’t it?”
Her train terminates at the station, so she has to get through crowds to change platforms and then wait for the next train to take her to our station which is four stations past the city.
Coworker: “[Manager] understands because I live so far away; he always lets me go home ten minutes earlier, too. Anyway, I am moving soon and will be closer.”
She moved a couple of weeks later and was still arriving twenty minutes late every day. This went on for six months until she forgets some keys. I was working reception when her manager let me know that they would be out of the office for two to three hours because he needed to drive her home to get the keys which were vital to his work.
Less than fifteen minutes later, they were back, and her manager looked even more pissed than he’d been when they left. It appeared that she’d neglected to tell him that she had moved to a place just ten minutes’ walk from work. She thought it was funny that she had been able to get away with it for so long.
She didn’t stay with us much longer, quitting because her unreasonable manager would insist on picking her up each morning half an hour before starting time, and she did not like getting out of bed that early.
Australia, Coworkers, Employees, Lazy/Unhelpful, Office, Sydney | Working | May 1, 2020
A coworker is always late in the morning; her excuse is the distance. We live along the same train line but her station is 25 minutes further away from mine; it takes me an hour to get to work on a train that takes me directly to the town we work in.
One day, my coworker asks me which train I catch as I am always at work on time.
Me: “I get [Train]; it’s pretty quick as it only stops at [Major Stations] before it gets to the city.”
Coworker: “Oh, that one leaves my station too early for me and I don’t like stopping at all of the stations because it makes the trip so much longer for me.”
Me: “But isn’t that the last train that will get you to work on time?”
Coworker: “Yeah, but I hate all those stops, so I wait for [Express Train] which gets me into the city without stopping; it only takes 45 minutes and I am there not long after your train goes through.”
Me: “But that still makes you late, doesn’t it?”
Her train terminates at the station, so she has to get through crowds to change platforms and then wait for the next train to take her to our station which is four stations past the city.
Coworker: “[Manager] understands because I live so far away; he always lets me go home ten minutes earlier, too. Anyway, I am moving soon and will be closer.”
She moved a couple of weeks later and was still arriving twenty minutes late every day. This went on for six months until she forgets some keys. I was working reception when her manager let me know that they would be out of the office for two to three hours because he needed to drive her home to get the keys which were vital to his work.
Less than fifteen minutes later, they were back, and her manager looked even more pissed than he’d been when they left. It appeared that she’d neglected to tell him that she had moved to a place just ten minutes’ walk from work. She thought it was funny that she had been able to get away with it for so long.
She didn’t stay with us much longer, quitting because her unreasonable manager would insist on picking her up each morning half an hour before starting time, and she did not like getting out of bed that early.
I Wouldn’t Bank On These Bankers Being Responsible
Bank, Employees, Extra Stupid, Iowa, USA | Working | April 30, 2020
We moved to a new city a few years ago, and around a year ago, we finally got around to switching to a local bank, opening both a checking and a savings account. It was a very small location that was part of a larger branch of a nationwide bank. There were only ever two tellers and two bankers.
Recently, we came into a bit more money, so we were wiring the money from the savings account into an investment account at an investment bank and shutting down the savings account. This should be some straightforward, boring banking. Unfortunately, it was anything but.
Monday morning, I went to the bank with the necessary paperwork. After sitting around a bit, I found out that their computers were down.
Okay. These things happen. I’ll come back tomorrow.
Tuesday morning, I showed back up, paperwork in hand. I was told to wait in the office of one of the bankers. She was not in her office, but she would be back in a minute. This was the first red flag. I could do anything in her office. There was a big glass window into the office, and it was actually a larger single room that was shared by both bankers with a large glass room divider between them. If the other banker was there — which they weren’t — maybe they could make sure I was not up to something nefarious? I mean, I was not planning to rob the bank, but I wanted to know my money was secure.
A minute later, the banker came in. We chatted about the computer problems of the day before as they got set up. “Oh, I had to get a whole new password yesterday!” they told me. I made a sympathetic remark. Then, they easily reached over and brandished an old, tattered half-page of pager with scribbles all over it from a small vertical file organizer standing on her desk. “Here’s my cheat sheet with all my passwords!” they exclaimed.
I just froze. What the f***?! My banker had a cheat sheet of all their passwords, which they kept on top of their desk, and they showed it off to their clients. Okayyyy. Now I needed a new bank. This wasn’t a red flag; this was a giant red banner waving in the wind!
I was sitting there, wondering whether I should say something now or wait to mention it to a superior so they couldn’t destroy the paper and pretend it didn’t exist. As I was trying to nudge my stupefied brain cells into engaging, the banker logged in, and then placed the password list down by their computer. The desk was L-shaped, the computer was in the corner, and the paper was a bit farther down the long side of the L, away from me. But it was still only a few feet away, just lying there.
I chose to stay quiet about this monstrosity for the moment, and we got on with the banking at hand. It turned out that my new investment bank had sent confusing instructions for the wire transfer. They had added an extra routing number that was unneeded. My banker called over to the other banker, who had returned.
This was when I realized that the large glass partition between their desks served no real purpose. One could hear everything everyone was saying quite easily, regardless of which side anyone was on, and because the partition was glass, one could see everything, as well. If they each had customers at the same time, then each customer would be privy to the other’s banking! This was now just one more red flag to add to the list.
The two bankers continued trying to figure out how to wire the money over. During this time, they had to leave the room a few times to grab printouts, so I was left alone with a password cheat-sheet four feet away. I had taken my phone out to email them something, so it would have been insanely easy to open my camera and reach over and grab a pic. I mean, this thing looked like it was three years old and had twenty passwords on it. Who knows how many were active, but, just… what the f***?!
Finally, after a call to my investment bank, they got the money wired and I left in a state of shock. I had chosen not to talk to them about it right then. I was worried that a boss would be close to them and try to sweep it all under the rug. The close proximity of the two bankers and the small nature of the location made me think there was no way other people working there didn’t know about this. I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone knew.
Instead, I plan to talk to someone high up in the parent location of the same branch, which is thirty miles away. Hopefully, whoever I talk to will have some distance from the banker and be sensible about things. Given the very poor layout of the bankers’ shared office, though, I wouldn’t be surprised if not much is done.
I’m planning on closing out my checking account tomorrow, and then I’ll call the head office. I’d be worried about retribution, otherwise. The thing is, neither of these bankers is new to the job. They are both in their sixties and have presumably been doing this for years. One would assume that they’d have some concept of security. But, alas, obviously not. I guess I should just be glad they haven’t been cleaned out yet.
Bad Behavior, Employees, Glasgow, Lazy/Unhelpful, Non-Dialogue, Phone Company, Scotland, UK | Working | April 30, 2020
When my two siblings and I first got phones, we were under our mother’s contract. Every month we would just pay via bank transfer into her account the amount each contract was for each sibling. For reference, we had been with the exact same provider for many years and we were happy with the services… until this happened.
With her first job, my older sister decided to treat herself to a new phone and have a new account set up. To do so, she had to take a new number. Our mother called up to have her old number removed and then passed things to my sister to set her new account up.
We were assured that this would be sorted and her contract would be sent within twenty-four hours via email. They also said our mother would receive an email in the same time span confirming the disconnection of the old number. Twenty-four hours passed and we received nothing, but it was the holiday season so we just assumed they were maybe backed up and we would give them another day.
A few hours after this, I received an email — all our separate emails were attached to each separate number on the account — saying my number had been disconnected, but as I had not finished payments on my phone they would like to know how I would be paying the remaining balance.
My mother called them, rather annoyed but assuming it was an honest mistake. The person she got seemed nice, reconnected my number then and there, and assured us that the correct number would be disconnected this time.
We thought nothing of this until twenty-four hours had passed again. My sister had still not received her confirmation email that her old number had been removed. Instead, it was my twin who then got the email I had gotten.
Mother called again, angrier, but still trying to remain patient because she hates being one of “those” customers. My twin received confirmation that his number was reconnected again and we were assured again that the issue was resolved. Another twenty-four hours passed, and my sister had still not received the email. Instead, it was our mother who received it. Immediately, she took my phone and called them. This time, she was rather irate.
“I don’t know who is screwing up on your end,” she said. “I have asked for my eldest daughter’s number to be disconnected as she has now taken out her own account. We were told to wait twenty-four hours for confirmation emails. Firstly, my other daughter’s number was cancelled but the eldest’s was not. We called and we were assured this would be rectified. Then, my eldest son received confirmation that his number was disconnected and still not my daughter’s.
I called again and was once again assured the issue had been resolved. Well, guess who has just received confirmation of a number being disconnected? Me! What is so difficult?!”
As she didn’t have it on speakerphone, we could not hear what the poor person in customer service was saying.
“No, you listen,” my mother continued after a minute. “I explained multiple times which number was to be disconnected, so don’t hit me with that ‘the numbers are similar’ tactic. Three different people have cancelled the incorrect number despite actually confirming said number on all calls. Get the issue sorted and now.”
We all waited in silence for what was to be said.
“Thank you,” my mother said finally. “Now send that email as soon as possible, please.”
Mother huffed in annoyance once the call was disconnected and handed me my phone back. Once again, twenty-four hours passed. This time, my sister finally received confirmation that her old number had been disconnected and our mother’s was reconnected again. Thinking the issue was sorted, we left it at that… until the mother’s direct debit came out after my twin and I had done our normal monthly bank transfers into her account to cover the cost for the month.
“Are you serious? They’ve charged us all double what they’re supposed to!”
We were all furious, so once again, my mother called up. This time, though, she put it on speakerphone so we could all hear.
“I can see here that there was an issue with a disconnection,” said the customer service representative. “Unfortunately, disconnection charges cannot be reversed—”
“Listen,” my mother said sternly. “My eldest’s contract had run out; she was just paying a month-to-month tariff. According to your terms and conditions, no disconnection fees are charged. Anyway, your disconnection fees are £45 per number. My contract is £14.50 per month, and my twins are £42 and £35.50 per month. Why have I been debited £250? That’s an extra £23. Oh, and it was your screwup that incurred disconnection charges. You made the mistake; you remove the charges.”
“Disconnection charges cannot be removed,” the representative explained. “As for contracts, I can see here your twins’ contracts are valid for a further twenty-three months at those prices, but yours is now £40.50.”
My twin and I looked to one another, shocked. Last we’d checked, we only had four months until our contracts ended.
“Excuse me?” my mother said, incredulous. “At no point did I agree to pay £40.50 per month. And last I checked, which was only a couple of weeks ago, my twins had four months left. Why has this suddenly changed to twenty-three?”
“When a number is reconnected, you are automatically placed into a new two-year contract—”
“Well, cancel said contracts,” my mother instructed. “We will be taking our business elsewhere. Not at one point in any of my previous calls was I aware of this, nor did either of us receive any confirmation email saying so. We did not agree to new contracts. I will also be disputing the charge with our bank.”
“Would you like me to cancel your account, ma’am?”
“Indeed, I would, and do not offer me anything,” my mother said. “I have been a customer for over a decade, and my twins have never been with another provider, but that will be changing. Remove the disconnection fees, charge us what we agreed initially, and do not add any more fees.”
“I apologise for everything that’s happened,” said the representative. “I will get that processed right now for you.”
Our mother hung up and immediately made a call to another company. They were appalled when they found out the circumstances of our switching. They were able to offer us very similar tariffs to what we’d had previously, we could keep the same numbers, and they were cheaper. Immediately, we signed up and thought that was now the end of it.
After the chargeback was reissued to our mother’s account, she immediately cancelled the direct debit so the previous company could take no more payments from us.
One day, I came home from classes to find a bulky letter from a debt collection agency. Furious, mother called them.
“Hello, I have just received a letter saying I owe this amount for unpaid bills,” my mother explained. “I cancelled all contracts with [Phone Company] for multiple screwups and I have been with another company for weeks now. This is the first I’m hearing of this being owed.”
Once again, she didn’t have it on speakerphone so we only heard her side of things.
“What?!” my mother suddenly exclaimed. “I was assured that they had cancelled all our contracts weeks ago and I was told that all disconnection fees would be removed. I was also told I’d get a refund of the extra they charged me for a contract they signed us up for without making us aware it was happening!”
This went back and forth for nearly an hour, our mother getting more irate as time went on. From reading in between lines, we figured out what had happened. The phone company did not remove the charges, did not refund the £36 extra they charged our mother, added three more disconnection charges for the three cancelled contracts, and did not even process the cancellation in the first place. Therefore, they were still trying to charge us.
Once our mother was off the line, she immediately let out a scream and got on the line to the phone company. The poor representative didn’t even get out a hello before she let rip.
“Listen here!” my mother started in. “I don’t know what is going on here but I am getting nowhere. I called to disconnect my eldest daughter’s account but you cancelled the wrong number. You then reconnected hers and again you cancelled the wrong number. I was assured that this would be resolved and again the wrong number got cancelled. After this, it seemed like it had been resolved, but then my direct debit came out, which included three disconnection charges which should not have been on there because you screwed up.
“Also, without our knowledge, you put us on to new contracts which we did not agree to, nor did we sign. I called up to cancel and I was told that all disconnection fees would be removed, as well as the difference of the cost on my phone which almost tripled due to your screwup, and no other disconnection fees would be added.
“I just received a debt collection letter and I called them. You guys never cancelled the contracts and did not remove the charges! We have been with another provider for weeks now, so you will cancel the accounts with immediate effect, all charges will be refunded, and you will let the debt collectors know it was your mistake.”
My mother listened for a moment and then launched back in.
“What do you mean, there are no notes about calls I have made? Are you telling me none of the people I spoke to left any trace so they wouldn’t get in trouble?”
When my twin and I hear this, our jaws drop in astonishment. They’d made it look like we were the ones at fault.
“I understand that on your side it looks like we screwed up, but you record all your calls, correct?” my mom asked. “Because, if so, I don’t delete call records from my phone. I will find exact dates and times for each and you can listen in on them all.”
The representative agreed to do so and to call us back once he had finished. Two hours later, we received the call back, which we were surprised about as we didn’t expect it.
“I am so sorry this happened,” the representative told us. “It’s not enough and I completely understand why you switched because I would’ve done so, as well, if that were me on your end. Two of the representatives you dealt with are in my building, so I have sent an email to their manager with the dates and times you gave me. As for the third, I’ve done an employee search and they no longer work for us.
“I have gone on myself, after receiving approval from my manager, to make sure that all charges will be removed. I have sent an email to you which you should receive within a couple of hours. I have also filled out a request to the team who directly deals with debt collection agencies to make them aware. Once they receive this, they will give you a courtesy call confirming that everything has been dropped.”
We all breathed audible sighs of relief at hearing this. It was obvious from the representative’s tone of voice that he was extremely annoyed with everything. A little over an hour later, we received the email he’d sent us which confirmed that every charge had been reversed. Logging into the account confirmed that this was the case. The next day, we received the courtesy call from the debt collection agency and we thought nothing of it until months later.
After my twin and I turned eighteen and our contracts were up with our new provider, we followed in our sister’s footsteps and made a separate account. Unfortunately, their system rejected it due to us failing a credit check. Neither of us had ever missed a payment for anything, so we asked where it had come from. You guessed it: our original provider.
We all sent scathing reviews to their corporate offices at this, to which we were told the most they could do was to add a note to the report that there was not a missed payment and it was an error, but it would remain on the account for the whole five years it takes where we live for these to disappear from a report. Luckily, this small change allowed my twin and me to make new accounts, but now we can’t get cars, mortgages, etc., for at least five years.
Doesn’t “Store Spirit” Usually Mean Fake Smiles And Crying Under Your Register?
Bosses & Owners, Florida, Great Stuff, Instant Karma, Jerk, Non-Dialogue, Orlando, Retail, USA | Working | April 30, 2020
I worked in a retail store as a floor associate in the clothing department. For the most part, staff got along really well with each other and management, with one major exception: the store manager.
He was completely oblivious to his own effect on those around him but just assumed he was beloved. He routinely took the customers’ side over staff, made major exceptions to policies to favor the customer in front of the staff member who had tried to explain policy — for example, overriding major price changes because a customer misread a sign, not because the sign was incorrect — and would both encourage “store spirit” among employees but berate us if he found us chatting, even while doing our tasks.
Think Michael Scott, only so much worse and real.
This all came to a head when the employee satisfaction survey rolled around. While most of the store performed as you’d expect of a major department store employing dozens of part-timers at minimum wage, the store manager received a whopping 8% satisfaction score.
His reaction was to schedule a meeting with each team in the store and demand that we all give him three reasons why we didn’t like him before we were allowed to leave the meeting. He listened to all of our severely-censored reasons — because who says what they think of their boss who could fire them at the drop of a hat to their face? — told us why each of our reasons was wrong, misplaced, or just not fair, and then walked around the store in a funk for a month.
He quit with zero notice in the middle of a shift. Best day ever.
Doesn’t “Store Spirit” Usually Mean Fake Smiles And Crying Under Your Register?
Bosses & Owners, Florida, Great Stuff, Instant Karma, Jerk, Non-Dialogue, Orlando, Retail, USA | Working | April 30, 2020
I worked in a retail store as a floor associate in the clothing department. For the most part, staff got along really well with each other and management, with one major exception: the store manager.
He was completely oblivious to his own effect on those around him but just assumed he was beloved. He routinely took the customers’ side over staff, made major exceptions to policies to favor the customer in front of the staff member who had tried to explain policy — for example, overriding major price changes because a customer misread a sign, not because the sign was incorrect — and would both encourage “store spirit” among employees but berate us if he found us chatting, even while doing our tasks.
Think Michael Scott, only so much worse and real.
This all came to a head when the employee satisfaction survey rolled around. While most of the store performed as you’d expect of a major department store employing dozens of part-timers at minimum wage, the store manager received a whopping 8% satisfaction score.
His reaction was to schedule a meeting with each team in the store and demand that we all give him three reasons why we didn’t like him before we were allowed to leave the meeting. He listened to all of our severely-censored reasons — because who says what they think of their boss who could fire them at the drop of a hat to their face? — told us why each of our reasons was wrong, misplaced, or just not fair, and then walked around the store in a funk for a month.
He quit with zero notice in the middle of a shift. Best day ever.
Employees, Extra Stupid, Germany, Government, Lazy/Unhelpful | Working | April 29, 2020
The only idiot in this story is German bureaucracy. I have to renew my driver’s license and then promptly lose it. I go to our village council building where I got the last one.
Employee #1 : “Oh, no, you have to go to the district office. Why did you come here?”
Me: “Because I got my last one here.”
Employee #1 : “Oh. Well, you need to go there, but you also need a new picture.”
Me: “Can’t I just use the last one? I still have three left from last time.”
Employee #1 : “Oh, no, they are older than six months; it has to be current.”
I drive to the only place that still takes passport pictures in our area, which, of course, is a village in the opposite direction of the city I then need to go to. I have to wait for half an hour, and since the only coffee shop is closed that day, I just sit in my car and wait. In Germany, you can only get these photos in batches of four, so now I have six pictures that I don’t need.
I then drive to the city and try to find the district office. My car doesn’t have satnav and I don’t own a smartphone. No problem, though; there are signs everywhere. Well, until suddenly there aren’t, leaving me lost in a part of the city I have never been to. I finally manage to find the right place — after discovering that there are apparently two district offices, but only one of them does driver’s licenses. I go up to reception.
Me: “Hi, I need to see someone about my driver’s license.”
Receptionist: “They just started their lunch break and will be back in two hours.”
Two hours later, I’m finally in line to talk to the right person.
Me: “Hi, I lost my driver’s license and need a new one.”
Employee #2 : “Do you have a copy of the police report?”
Me: “What police report?”
Employee #2 : “You need to report the loss to the police and then come back to apply for a new license.”
The police station I need to go to is… in the village where I got my photos. So, one and a half hours later, I’m standing in front of a police officer.
Me: “I need to report the loss of my driver’s license.”
Officer: “Great, we have a trainee who needs to learn how to do that.”
After spending thirty minutes watching the process being explained to the trainee, I finally have all the documentation I need. By now, it is far too late to drive back to the district office since they close at five, so I put everything in my glove compartment and promptly forget about it. Six months later, I remember that I still need to get a new license and, because I need to go to my village council building anyway, I decide to try them again.
Me: “Hi. I lost my driver’s license. I have a copy of the police report and a photo. Can I apply for that here?”
Employee #3 : “Sure, no problem. You can pick it up in one week.”
Employees, Food & Drink, Jerk, Massachusetts, Restaurant, USA | Working | April 29, 2020
I’m in line behind my friend at a now-defunct steakhouse chain whose slogan is “More Bigger, More Better! Nicer!” It is set up cafeteria-style, where you order your steak at the start of the lane and then proceed down the line to get all your sides, drinks, dessert, etc. You pay at the register at the end and they bring your steak to your table once it’s done. My friend gets to where you can choose your type of potato and he chooses French fries. The server places a noticeably small amount of fries on his plate, so few that you could count how many fries were on his plate.
Friend: “Excuse me, could you please put more fries on my plate?”
Server: “I’m sorry, but that’s the standard amount we give out.”
Friend: *Incredulous* “Seriously? You’re telling me that this is the standard amount of fries I get? That’s not how it’s been at your other locations.”
Server: “I’m sorry, but the amount we’re told to give out.”
Friend: “Hey! Your motto is ‘More Bigger, More Better! Nicer!’ Put more fries on there!”
The server then picks up the service tray holding the fries and dumps the whole thing — which was more than a quarter full — out on my friend’s plate, which is now overflowing with a mound of French fries.
Friend: *Sarcastically* “Thank you!”
Server: “You’re welcome!”
Me: *To the server* “I think I’ll have the mashed!”
Awesome Workers, Employees, Great Stuff, Inspirational, Non-Dialogue, Restaurant, South Carolina, USA, Weather | Working | April 29, 2020
My mom, stepdad, best friend, and I are driving from Vermont back to Florida after a summer trip to visit my mom and stepdad’s home. We stop for a day in DC to go museum-hopping and have a great time. Then, we get back on the road and our AC goes out. In DC. In the middle of a heatwave.
Nothing for it, we pile some extra water bottles from the trunk into the cab and carry on south, with a plan to get the AC fixed when we hit my uncle’s in Jacksonville — a ten-hour drive.
By the time we’re in South Carolina, we’re all overheated, tired, and hungry, so we decide to stop for lunch at a southern chain restaurant. We melt out of the car into vaguely humanoid puddles and manage to flop our way through the doors into the blessedly cool restaurant.
At first, the hostess looks up at us with the standard welcoming smile, but then she does a double-take and practically shouts, “Y’all look like death warmed over!”
I think one of us mumbles something about the busted AC and driving, but she’s already herding us deeper into the restaurant until we’re hit with an arctic blast straight to our flushed faces. We collapse into the chairs around the table she’s lead us to, that is directly under a vent, while she vanishes and reappears in seconds with a full pitcher of ice water and four glasses.
I don’t even remember what any of us ate or whether the food was even good or bad; I just remember this amazing hostess who made sure that we were taken care of first and foremost. She managed to make the rest of the drive so much more bearable!
Diễn Đàn Người Việt Hải Ngoại. Tự do ngôn luận, an toàn và uy tín. Vì một tương lai tươi đẹp cho các thế hệ Việt Nam hãy ghé thăm chúng tôi, hãy tâm sự với chúng tôi mỗi ngày, mỗi giờ và mỗi giây phút có thể. VietBF.Com Xin cám ơn các bạn, chúc tất cả các bạn vui vẻ và gặp nhiều may mắn.
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