* Me: “Right-click on ‘My Computer’ and choose ‘Properties’.”
* Customer: “I don’t see Properties.”
* Me: “What do you see?”
* Customer: “I see hard disk drives, devices with removable storage–”
* Me: “Ok, you left-clicked; you need to right-click on ‘My Computer’.”
This went on for a few minutes; finally, she got frustrated and said:
* Customer: “I AM USING MY RIGHT HAND!!!”
Thank heaven for the mute button.
(I’m a greenskeeper on a golf course and am doing some work on a green, moving the hole. I pull the pin (flag) out, which is the universal symbol for “the green is closed, don’t shoot”. As I’m doing my work, this happens…)
Member: “Fore on the green! Fore on the green!”
(I look up to see blue sky and a little white speck flying at me. I turn my back and the golf ball hits me square in my one good kidney. I drop like a bag of potatoes, and the member casually strolls up to the green.)
Member: “Are you ok?”
Me: “No, I need to get to a hospital, it hit my good kidney.”
Member: “What the h*** were you doing on the green? You’re not supp–”
Me: “Did you just hear me? I need an ambulance!”
Member: “Don’t interrupt me, you little a**hole! Now move so I can putt!”
(I grab my radio and get my superintendent, who rushes out in his cart on the phone with 911. After he hangs up, he turns to the member.)
Superintendent: “Didn’t you see the pin was down?! You could have killed him!
Member: “He shouldn’t be on the green during play! It’s his own fault!”
(They continue arguing for a few moments until the ambulance shows up. As the EMT is getting me on a stretcher, she asks the member…)
EMT: “If the pin was down, what were you aiming for?”
Member: “Him.”
Superintendent: “You aimed… for him?”
Member: “I figured he’d be close to the hole. I mean… the pin was down! I had to aim for something!”
Superintendent: “You’re a f***ing idiot!”
(I found out later that the member was kicked out of the country club, and his $50,000 initiation fee as well as his $15,000 yearly dues were not refunded.)
I work a turgid minimum wage job in a mid-sized engineering plant whilst putting myself through college. I’ve been there for five years and have had three people to answer to in that time. For the first three years I had a male boss in his mid 40s who, while harsh and snappy at times, was generally OK to work with. Then about two years ago, he became quite ill – nothing serious, but enough to put him out of commission at a time when we were extraordinarily busy with an order and working very long hours.
My family gave my grandmother a laptop, and we were teaching her how to use it when she asked how to send an email to her sister in England. They had been sending postal mail to each other for decades, and she had heard that this “Er-Mail” thing was easier.
I pointed to the Outlook Express icon, and told her to put the mouse there. She picked up the computer mouse and placed it on the screen.
It was a long day.