Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:00):
Hey there, mister Reddit here,welcome back to another episode of our slash
entitled parent Stories. Our first storywe'll be reading today. Levy me alone,
Lady, I don't work here.After that entitled parents think I'm not
normal because I'm not what they expected. And after that, reach class on
time. But you hate the smell, I'll make you regret it. Now.
(00:21):
For every thumbs up this video getsone, Karen gets her file deleted
on Pokemon. But I worked sohard at it, So please smash that
like button. And if you're new, subscribe and turn on notifications for new
stories from Reddit every single day.Leavy me alone, Lady, I don't
work here. The cast. We'vegot me avid Pokemon enthusiast, We've got
(00:44):
the store employee, and we've gotTeam Rocket, Karen the entitled parent and
Snuggles the ev plushy the story.So, I thirty three mail Am,
a huge lover of Pokemon, hadjust gotten paid and decided I wanted to
buy myself a Valentine's gift. Iwent my local chain video game store let's
call it video Game Go, becausethey have all kinds of collectibles. Having
(01:06):
been there several times, I hadseen a twenty four inch EV plushy that
I really liked. Perfect Ev isone of my favorite pokemon, and this
particular plushy could also be used forcosplay. Having grabbed my plushy and paid
for it and the bag that wouldgive me a five dollars discount on any
collectibles that would fit inside it,I decided to look around for anything I
might want to get on my nextvisit now, as it is rather cold
(01:30):
here in Texas. I was bundledup in several layers, including rather warm,
comfy sweatpants, a rather large skijacket, a stocking hat, scarf,
and had my backpack on with Snuggles, the EV and her exclusive corgy
eating Noodle's collectible bag. The employeesof this particular video game chain store generally
wear jeans, a T shirt witha store logo or something similar, and
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a lanyard with a badge showing theirname and the company logo on it,
so there is no way I couldpossibly be confused as an employee. Enter
Team Rocket Karen, Cue Team Rocketingcounter Music Team Rocket Karen wants to battle
Ugh Snuggles the EV. I chooseyou, Karen. She had the typical
Karen haircut and a look that screamed, where's your manager? Excuse me?
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Do you guys have inter game titlehere? Team rocket? Karen used confusion,
it's super effective. Me what TeamRocket? Karen used clap? Do
you have inter video game title here? God, some people are so slow.
Me snuggles. The ev is confused. It hurt itself in confusion.
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Uh what, Karen uses? Snapattack, Karen snapping her fingers. I
won't inter video game title here.I'm going to buy it for my son.
Me snuggles. The ev is stillconfused. I don't know. Maybe
snuggles. The ev used chettoball.It hurt itself in confusion. It's at
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this point I was starting to realizethis lady thinks I'm an employee. How
her tiny team rocket brain made thatconnection is a mystery to me. I
clearly don't look like an employee.Karen used raw How do you not know?
Ah? You stupid me snuggles.The ev is no longer confused.
Whoa lady? There's no need forthat language. This is a family store.
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Besides, I don't work here.I just came to get this plushy
snuggles. The ev used charm.It's not very effective, Karen, don't
lie to me. Of course youwork here. You shouldn't be shopping when
you're working, she used, confusionme, what snuggles? The ev is
confused. I'm now starting to getmad. I just wanted to browse the
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store. Lady, What about memakes you think I work here? I
look like a bomb? Why don'tyou go over to the counter and ask
the actual employee for your game?Leave me alone. At this point,
employee, who has heard the wholeexchange, finally finished up whatever he was
doing and can finally react. Hecomes over. Employee, what's going on
here? Karen opened her mouth tostart yelling at poor employee. I've worked
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retail for most of my life andhave dealt with Karen's and entitled people a
lot. I wasn't going to lether spew her bs me. This jerk
assumed I work here. When Itry to tell her that I don't,
she lost her crab. Karen,that's a lie. This bumb just came
over and pretended to work here.He stole my stuffed animal. That a
man. You throw him out andcall the cops. Employee and I stared
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at her in disbelief. Did sheseriously try that crap. Employee, ma'am,
I'm going to have to ask youto leave. You were clearly harassing
this customer. I heard everything thatwas said. Also, I literally just
sold this plushy to him. Heeven has the receipt for it in his
hand. Now, please leave beforeI call the police. Karen is faltering
now, but leave now, lady. Employee used hyper beam. It's super
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effective. Karen has fainted. Karenwhile storming out of the store. See
if I ever shop here again,and you can be sure, I'll call
corporate about the customer's service in thisplace. Employee and I looked at each
other and burst out laughing at theabsurdity of the whole situation. Employee,
sorry about that, dude. Isthere something in the store I can offer
as compensation? Me? Nah,dude, We're good. I have a
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new story for Reddit now. Employeelaughed, hooked me up with some store
credit and promised to look up thestory and upvote it. I took my
Evy plushy and headed out to getsomething to eat, still trying to wrap
my head around the stupidity of somepeople speaking of Pokemon. Who's your favorite
Pokemon? Please leave? A commentletting us know you two for the wind
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entitled parents think I'm not normal becauseI'm not what they expected, and so
they hate me. I twenty sixfemale, come from an average South Asian
family. Being born or female meansyou're either married with kids or still living
with your parents at this age.I'm the latter. My parents have been
told by my extended family that they'rethe best parents in the world, because
my extended family as adults are jerksbasically, so my parents really take it
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to heart and are convinced that theyare indeed the best parents in the world.
I agree that they had gone througha rough time raising us. We're
a group of five three girls andtwo boys, so it couldn't have been
easy, and we're all nice kidsas well. But they're very concerned that
we're not doing the conventional stereotypical SouthAsian kids thing like everyone else, so
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they believe they're still perfect. It'sonly that we are not normal. I'm
the main target because I have myown life. I have never had a
romantic relationship because I like being alonebetter. I didn't become a doctor like
they wanted me to. I followinternational relations and gender studies instead instead of
kids, I have cats whom Ilove like one would love their kids.
Instead of getting a husband, I'mcareer focused and pursuing education. And worst
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of all, when they try tocontrol and subjugate me, I fight back
when they compare me to others,I compare them with the parents of the
person slash people they're comparing me to. I earn my own money and spend
it on things I love, mostlymy cats. I am a writer,
and I am a reader, andI am a fighter for them. All
of this is just not normal.There's something wrong with me because I don't
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fit into the mold that they created, and me not fitting in would essentially
take their best parents title away.But my father doesn't speak to his kids
like they're humans. I pointed outthat I didn't like the way he speaks
to me, so he said Iwas disrespectful. My mother likes to imagine
I don't exist and pretends not tohear me. She has sharp ears to
catch if it's something about them,but if I'm talking about a concern,
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she pretends not to hear me.But still they believe they are the best
parents in the world, and thatthere's something inherently wrong with all of their
kids. Edit. Wow, Iwrote this out of sadness and frustration yesterday
night, and I woke up tosee it as blown up. Thank you
everyone for your kind words. ButI think there's a few things to clarify.
Sorry that I didn't mention clearly.One, I do not have a
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degree in Jena studies. I havea degree in social statistics, which can
get me a job anywhere else,but here I work as a math teacher.
I'm interested in gender studies. ButI went to a public university thanks
to free education we have here,and I was selected for social statistics and
my university didn't let me study anythingelse. Selecting your majors isn't simple here,
especially if colleges free. Also forfree higher education, you need to
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pass your GCSS with good results,and I only did enough to get me
into the social statistics degree. Two. In my country, moving out really
isn't simple. This might sound strangefor people like you, but here most
people own their houses. They buylands and build their own so usually it
happens when people get married, theylive with their husband's family for a while
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build their own house. There areno affordable one person houses and shared houses
are either extremely expensive they're made forthe foreign market, as in foreigners who
live here or people who earn alot of money. But my salary is
average, but enough to sustain myselfin a means three. Someone told me
that I don't contribute to my family. I take care of my younger siblings.
Until two or three months ago,I used to spend on them.
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Then my laptop broke, so Iinformed my parents that I had to save
money for the laptop and cut downon the share I spent for my siblings.
I bought a laptop recently. They'realso very expensive here, so now
I will be able to spend forthem again. I love my younger siblings,
especially the youngest. She's only fourteen, but she's amazingly talented. I
help my parents and raising her,you know, taking her to school and
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checking up on her education and all. I also used to be my parents
personal counselor sort of thing, youknow, when they think you're academically gifted,
they take your advice on everything,so I listen to their problems and
all help them when they want tomake decisions on my siblings education and all.
Four. I think there's this misunderstandingthat my parents and I hate each
other. I actually love them alot, and I totally understand where they
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are coming from. My dad hada rough time growing up, so did
my mom, so they probably wantus to have the best. They grew
up in a societ were being successfulas a doctor or engineer or becoming a
teacher and getting married and having kidsas the normal, and they see lots
of kids doing that. Initially,I want to stay with my parents the
whole time because they really need meto stay grounded, despite them thinking that
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I'm not normal. They're tired andgetting older, so I told them I
will stay and take care of themand the youngest until she's old enough,
rather than getting angry. Perhaps themseeing that I'm not doing the normal things
makes them sad. I think Ifeel bad for rebellions sometimes, but I
did everything that they wanted. Gotinto a public university, got a good
job. I want to live myown life. Five. I want to
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study gender studies for my postgraduates,but it's not offered here in my country
at any university for some reason.So I do international relations for my postgraduates
and learn gender studies in my owntime. The reason is that I see
a lot of GBV in my countryand all the things that I faced as
a woman in the university, aswell as everything that I and my sister
had to go through as well.I think I want to make a difference
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for other women. And I knowI started late, but I'm trying my
best. Six. I write fiction. I started at age seven, and
for that, I'm thankful for myparents. But their outlook changed on it
because I don't write in my ownlanguage. I write in English, so
they think it's not worth reading inall. But I have a bunch of
people who like my stuff, includingmyself, so I'm pretty happy with it.
Seven. I have seven cats.They are all rescues. My parents
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used to support me with them allthe time, but when they get sick
or when one of them passes,I fall into depression and they kind of
hate it when that happens because theythink I wouldn't be like that for them.
If they get sick, I trynot to panic when they do,
and I try to do what's necessary. I really hope my parents understand that
I love them and my cats differently. Besides, we have good medicare here
if they get sick, But nota single vet surgeon that I can trust
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reach class on time, but youhate the smell, I'll make you regret
it. This happened years ago,two thousand and six to two thousand and
nine ERA. So I went toschool with separate sections for boys and girls,
but we weren't secluded completely and someelective classes were mixed. So there
was this Karen teacher who really dislikedboys. She always called us dirty and
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loud and yucky, and would hitus and pinch us if one of us
dared to talk back to her.We had her class mixed with girls,
and they all would laugh at usboys for getting the drill and getting humiliated
in front of them. The teacheractually enjoyed this, and she would purposefully
find excuses to have us shamed forminor issues like asking your friend for a
pen while the girls yapped away andchatted with the teacher. She could not
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bear to hear us say a word. We were never given any opportunity to
speak or answer questions, and shemade sure the most difficult passages were given
to read to this one boy withspeaking difficulty. You get the idea.
Basically a jerk person. All ofthis behavior really upset me and made my
blood boil with anger. But Inever got any punishment because it was a
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language class and I had always beenthe top of the class. Even her
own daughter, who was with usin the same class, couldn't get past
me. One year, we happenedto have her class right after Now we
didn't have any rules as to whatwas to be done in PE class,
but we did get laps and pushups, after which we were off to
play cricket for the next two wholehours. The playground was a bit of
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a distance from the classroom and itwas shared by the high school in our
middle school. It took about threeminutes to reach her class from the playground.
She hated that we were sweaty andreeked of body odor first day we
came to class. After we gotour PE, she immediately went to the
supervisor to have our schedule changed,where she got turned down, but she
wasn't going to give up. Icould see the hatred in her eyes burning
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brighter with every stinky breath she tookin our class. Next, she implemented
a rule saying that no one wasallowed to be late more than one minute
after the start, or they wouldbe marked absent and have their marks cut
fair enough, I thought. Italked to the teacher who had his period
before our pe class, and hewas willing to let us go early and
exchange for working on a project forhis class. I told the boys about
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my plan. We went to theground half an hour early, played like
hey as usual, got all sweaty, and then poured water all over ourselves
to cool us off, and rushedoff to her class and were right on
time, all soaking wet with soggy, disgusting, futrid training shoes, standing
in a line in front of theclassroom that only she had the keys to.
We even took off our socks andkept them in our pockets just to
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make it smell extra bad. Thiswas literal torture for her, as she
had the full blast of the smellbecause it was a teeny tiny classroom and
the boys were made to sit inthe front as a rule for mixed gender
classes. We made the excuse thatwe couldn't dry off because she marked us
absent since we had to be atour lockers and the playground was not nearby
and all of our lockers were outof the way. We kept at this
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for a full six weeks, afterwhich she gave up and exchanged classes with
a male teacher. We never gavehim much trouble. He allowed us the
keys, and we were crisp andcool sitting in front of the ac ready
for the class. Best revenge Iever had at it. It was seventh
grade and it was an Indian ownedschool with kids from all over the world
Middle East? Am I the jerkfor refusing to both cook and clean to
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cater to my husband's dietary needs.I thirty four female, and my husband,
Paul, thirty five male, havebeen married for a little over two
years. We have no kids.Now, I know this is not how
it is in every home, andI say do whatever floats your household boat.
But here, if one cooks dinner, the other cleans. Turns out
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Paul is not a gleeful cook andwould rather clean, So almost all of
the cooking falls on me, withthe occasional takeout and then lockdown. Paul
works out of the home as anessential worker. I work from home.
When it was September to October ish, Paul comes to me and says he
wants to eat healthier. Great.I love the man. I'd prefer he'd
not have a heart attack. ButPaul, my lovely Paul, of course,
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had to take it to the onethousand third degree. He's trying all
sorts of fad diets, and Imean all sorts. I've done my best,
in my opinion, of complying withthese ever changing diets. It's only
meal per day, and besides,it can be fun finding recipes to match
whatever weird criteria Paul has this week. This might be a me thing,
but whenever I try a new recipeor one I'm not too familiar with,
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I tend to be messier when cooking. I mean, it's one thing to
kind of auto cook the pasta recipeyou've been making for years, and it's
another to be like, oh crap, why are there lemons on the counter
here? Let me scroll through thiswoman's grandfather's apple orchard essay to see where
I use the lemons. Oh,it was step three, and now I'm
on step seven. What's this aboutflour? Now? So now there is
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lemon juice in my eye behind mycontact and I'm trying to retroflour this piece
of meat. This is the problem. Paul came up to me Friday night
and said, that he doesn't thinkit's fair that I am so careless with
mess when cooking it makes his jobso much harder. I reiterate. The
man said the word careless both syllables, like he wasn't a human with an
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ability to logically guess the future consequencesof one's actions. I took a second
and said, before we continue,what do you see as the benefit of
your bringing up this conversation with meand Paul? God bless his little duckling
soul, goes, well, ifyou would clean up, say half the
mess while cooking or right after,it would make my job so much easier.
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And I asked, will you dohalf the cooking? And he said,
looking me dead in the eye.Well, no, I know.
I can be messy with cooking usingmultiple pots slash pans, slash bulls,
et cetera, like I said,especially when I'm cooking something new. But
in my defense, I have tolearn something new all the time because Paul
comes to me with things like,hey, I'm now going to try to
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avoid tomatoes and peppers because Tom Bradysaid they're intestinal or inflammatory or whatever.
Who cares. My proposal was thatwe stick to the original. He either
cooks or cleans. I don't intentionallymake a mess, but I do intentionally
try to meet his diet needs.He says that because I work from home
for fewer hours that taking steps toclean up along the way or take a
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first swipe at cleaning after cooking isa good marital compromise. I refuse,
Well, what do you think isO be the jerk or is her husband?
Please let us know. I'd tellthat guy to just make his own
food. You want to flaunt stupidrules at A soon to be lawyer too
can play this game. I wasin my final year of law school.
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As part of our curriculum, wehad to accrue a certain number of hours
of out of class course related activities. It was a pretty high number of
hours, but if you sort ofplanned to do them over the course of
the years, it wasn't so badanyway. There was a list of the
activity types you could use to fulfillthis requirement Attending conferences, publishing a paper,
writing report on a lecture, etcetera. But there were caps on
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the number of hours you could accruein each category, so you couldn't just
do one thing. The highest capwas for law related internships. Almost fifty
percent of the total requirement. SoI planned around that and got into an
internship in my final year which wouldget me above the required number of hours.
You had to log your hours inan online set system, which required
you to fill the beginning and enddates for the activity and the number of
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hours you wished to log. Asinternships here usually don't have a fixed end
date, only a maximum of twoyears, but the company or I could
terminate it early. I thought Iwould just file the paperwork as soon as
I finished the internship and it wouldbe golden. However, as soon as
I did that, the system rejectedmy request, stating that I should have
filed everything before the end of myinternship. I figured this was pretty dumb,
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since anyone logging internship hours wouldn't knowthe end date or total hours before
the end of their internship. SoI went to the university's law department,
which I thought would immediately correct thisobvious mistake. Right wrong. I basically
got told tough luck by the professorin charge, and that I should have
applied with a fictitious end date andamount of hours before I finished the internship.
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If I wasn't sure of when Iwas going to leave it. At
this point, I'm super anxious asthis internship represents about fifty percent of the
hours I needed to grab. Iwasn't going to be able to make up
for that before my graduation date,and I had already passed the bar exam
in my country you can take itin your final year of law school.
And then it dawned on me.It was so simple. I thought it
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surely wouldn't work. If they wantedme to fill the online form with made
up data, then by all means, that's what I would do. I
logged back into the system and filledout the same information for my internship,
but I put the end date inthe future. When the system approved the
request, I submitted my paperwork witha note, as per instructions of Professor
Z, I hereby request an amendmentto the end date of my internship period.
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According to the attached documents, gotfull credit for the hours I needed,
graduated on time. Had been workingas a lawyer for the past ten
years. Edit. Wow. Iwrote this and went to bed and it
blew up overnight. Thank you forthe awards. People. You are amazing.
For the people who are concerned thatthis report doesn't belong in malicious compliance.
Please read this subrett. It's descriptionpeople conforming to the letter but not
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the spirit of a request. Youdon't need to leave someone else in a
bad spot for it to be Malitia'scompliance. Am I the jerk for telling
my friends? She doesn't give fashionadvice, She just tells people they're too
poor. I have one of thesefriends who's trying to become an Instagram model
who eventually has a lifestyle brand.At first, her unsolicited commentary on our
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clothes or makeup bothered me, buteventually I kind of recognized it for what
it was and set it aside.But recently she's gotten a solid following based
on rating people's looks and giving makeoveradvice. Now, sometimes younger people on
campus will earnestly ask her for fashionadvice. One of her most common tips
is don't wear the same thing sooften. By the time you wear an
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outfit a second time, there shouldhave been enough time for people to forget
you've ever worn it. The problemis that's only possible if you have a
lot of different clothes to mix amatch. Recently, I heard her giving
a mutual friend some fashion advice,and it amounted to I've seen you in
that before, don't wear it again. It signals that you don't care about
your appearance, and therefore if youdon't take the time to have different outfits
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every day. I happen to knowthat friend is going through a really difficult
time financially due to lockdown. SoI finally, after a lot of less
direct comments through the years, justsaid straight out after the girl had left,
that's not fashion advice. That's justtelling people they should have more money
to spend on clothes, and explaineda lot of her advice kind of translates
to your two pull to look goodif you don't have the money to execute
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the tips. Most of her adviceis that kind of thing though, buy
a brand new name bag, wellmunchuliy, don't use convenience, stole makeup,
etc. So it led to herbeing really hurt as I broke it
down and she realized it encompassed mostof her repertoire. I didn't mean for
it to be hurtful, It justseemed like something she needed to hear since
I think she means well. Shesays, I insulted her livelihood and am
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just jealous of her skills slash don'trespect her as a professional. I don't
want to hurt anyone's feelings, butI don't want her to hurt anyone either.
Am I the jerk? Well,what do you think is OPI the
jur or is her friend? Pleaselet us know. Her friend reminds me
of myself in my younger years.Oh, how I wish Instagram had been
around back then. The avalanche ofgift cards incident. This incident happened when
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I worked at a restaurant inside anamusement park around five years ago. One
day, like normal, this niceelderly lady came to the register and asked
me if she's allowed to pay forher food with a gift card. I
told her yes, she can purchasethe food with it, and if there's
any left on the card, Ican tell you if. Also, the
remaining balance can be paid with eithercash or credit. So she proceeded to
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order about one hundred dollars worth offood. She was with the family.
Now, after what happens next,I should have said no in the first
place. Why She then proceeded toopen up her purse and took out a
huge stack of gift cards like forsome reason, she had around one hundred
gift cards of this company in herpurse. She told me that she buys
the cards for her grandkids and whenthe kids think they are done with it,
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they returned the card to her.And she didn't know if the cards
had money on them, so beforeshe was going to discard them, she
wanted me to process it to seeif there's something in the cards so it
can be used to pay for theorder. So me, since I told
her yes, she started to giveme the cards one by one. Some
had just a few sins, somehad a few dollars, and some had
nothing at all. So after processingaround fifty more or less gift cards,
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she managed to pay for the wholething with the leftover of all those cards.
Now, the funny thing happens next. The computer slash register thinks that
every single card has a different owner. Therefore it printed the same receipt around
fifty times. The receipt that cameout for each card would make the ones
we get from going to CVS goto shame, or at least go toe
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to toe. Each receipt had allof the food but also all of the
deduction slash transaction of every single giftcard used in the order. The receipts
came out one by one. Afterlike the tenth one out, the lady
stood in shock of how many receiptsthere were. The printer kept puking out
more and more, to the pointI was about to get covered with receipts
if it wasn't for my supervisor andboss luckily showing up to see me trying
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to handle this predicament. They stoodthere with me, and like five minutes
into this thing, the printer stillgiving more receipts. Then the whole roll
of receipt paper ran out and askedfor more paper since it still needed to
print more. We replaced it,and it kept giving us more and more
another few minutes and then finally stopped. So after this thing finished, I
finally could get the next customer.Luckily, we have more than one register,
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so there was no downtime. Butnow it gets even funnier. When
I took the next customer and Iwent through to open the menu button to
him put the customer's order, thecomputer slash register decided to die. It
just turned off. It didn't wantto turn on. I checked everything.
My supervisor and boss also did,and we couldn't find anything wrong. The
register just went copoon or decided itneeds a break. But later on in
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the day we managed to get itup and preceded the day as normal.
So yeah, this is one ofthe funniest incidents that happened to me when
I worked at a restaurant. AmI the jerk for not giving me my
adult son a job in my companybecause of his attitude? My son twenty
six mail is really hard to workwith. Hi forty six Mail, love
him, but let's be honest,he is a jerk at the workplace.
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He does not know how to argue, and every little argument is like a
state of survival. He does notunderstand where to stop. If he's arguing
with someone, he will go anyway to win that fight. For him.
His therapist slash psychiatrist, said hehas borderline personality disorder and he uses
antipsychotics, but it's still in areally uncomfortable level. I also raised him
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single. His mom was an addictand she is currently in a full term
care center due to severe disabilities aftera traffic accident. My son only saw
her twice in his whole life.My son never managed to hold a job
other than working as an independent dataanalyst for pharmaceutical sector. He is really
hard to work with, really rude, and he does not understand teamwork.
I also manage a company in healthcaresector. We me and my brother in
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law have a company that produces spareparts for medical devices. This month,
our company needed a data analyst andmy son had just had a contract finish,
so he was free. But Idirectly shut down the idea. I
love my son as a dad,but as a boss, I would fire
him in the first week. Hemeans trouble. I told all of this
an executive board meeting. My brotherin law agrees with me, but one
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of the board told this to mymom. She is also a close friend
of mine and supported me in thisjourney, and she told it to my
son. My son and I hada big fight and he had to be
hospitalized due to mental disturbance. Everyonethinks I still see him as a baby
and I'm trying to helicopter him.Edit. The board member is my mom's
god daughter and a real close friendof mine. It's the most normal thing
for her to say to my mom. Also, my mom did our accounting
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for a while when we first startedas a company, so I trust them
both. Edit second, I'm notfiring my executive board member, and it
was just a genuine mistake she made. She never thought, neither did I,
my mom would give this kind ofreaction. We learned to be more
discreed against my mom. Now,So am I the jerk? Dear folks,
Well, what do you think isoh be the jerk? Or is
(28:03):
his son? Please let us knowthat's how I feel working with you every
day. Mister vettittt am I thejerk for allowing my cats to be cats?
To give a little background, Ijust moved into a pet friendly apartment
two days ago. I have twocats. One is five pounds and the
other is eight pounds. This apartmentis on the second floor and all of
the floors are hard wood. There'salso no verbiage on the least requiring tenants
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to put down carpets in these units. When I was looking at this apartment,
the landlord stated that the downstairs tenantcan be a bit sensitive to noise.
At the time, I thought hewas being a little extreme, but
I've since learned that's not the case. On the day I moved in the
neighbor from downstairs decided to introduce himself. During his introduction, he mentioned that
in the past he's had a lotof issues with noise from the unit I'm
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moving into, and that he hopedwe'd be good upstairs neighbors. I told
him that I'm generally a quiet personand that noise shouldn't be an issue.
Well, today, when I gothome from work, I found a notice
on my apartment door from management statingthat I was reported for having dogs in
the apartment, which is against thelease, and that if I don't correct
this situation immediately, I'll be victed. I find this shocking because one I
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don't have dogs, and two thelandlord knows I have two cats. I
immediately sent an email to my landlordstating that I don't have dogs and that
I believe he put the notice onthe wrong unit. I'm still waiting for
his response. Cats being cats,they tend to get the zuomies every now
and then, which basically amounts tothem running up and down the hall and
jumping up and down from the couches. Along with this, there's also jumping
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from the couches to the cat treeto the floor. During the non ZOOMI
time and playing with their toys,which have bells and such but should not
be audible from the lower floor.To me, this is all reasonable noise,
considering this is a pet friendly apartment. It's not like I have two
obese cats either. They're both underten pounds, and I keep their claws
trimmed to limit the clacking and tosave my furniture. Yesterday, before I
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received this complaint, I bought asixteen foot runner to go down the hallway
so that the cats don't make asmuch noise while running. But regardless of
the carpet which will arrive next week, I feel that he's being unreasonable and
has a warped perspective on what apartmentliving is like, especially for someone on
the first floor. There will alwaysbe noise, and that's just a fact.
I shouldn't have to feel like I'mwalking on eggshells in my own apartment.
(30:19):
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