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Two for the price of one! Hello CS community! I thought I'd jump right in with two of my greatest hits. I have a feeling you'll enjoy them. ^_^
BG: The first tale comes from when I was 8 years old. Yes, 8. My parents use to own a business in which they sold 'trivets'. These are little scented hot pads - you put a hot casserole dish on them and whatever scent was inside would come out. Very fragrant and quite popular. They worked out of their home for years and years and my brother and I would help out here and there as we were growing up. They also had a toll free line, which spelled out "hot pads" for the number. Cute, no? Important for this story, too.
It was after dinner and the phone rang. At this time it was normally just family calling or something, so I picked it up as I was in the living room with Dad watching tv and was closest to the phone. Given this was 22 years ago, forgive me a bit that I can't tell you exactly how the conversation went, but I've never been able to forget some of it.
Cast -
Me: Me of Course
CL: Crazy Lady
Dad: I think my list is kinda obvious. Hmm..
[Phone Rings]
Me: Hello?
CL: Yeah, I just found a card in my husband's wallet with this number on it, what kind of service is this?
Me: We sell trivets? *I was already thinking to myself, "wtf, lady, why don't you ask your HUSBAND?*
CL: Excuse me?
Me: We sell scented hot pads. You put them on dis-
CL: I cannot even believe that a place like this exists! You don't even sound old enough to be working in something like this! What the hell kind of business is this?
Me: Uh, we sell scented hot-
CL: How old are you!?
Me:
Uh, eight?
CL: *goes off on some rant that I didn't understand until years later. She apparently thought we were some kind of sex line*
Me: *hands phone out to Dad* Uh, you might wanna talk to this lady, Daddy. She sounds confused. *thinking: and mental*
Yeah. That one's stuck with me forEVER. I don't know what Dad said to her, but I know he wasn't happy and left the living room to finish the conversation. Probably thought he was going to have to do "the talk" with me after that.
I remember finding out about all that kind of stuff years later, looking back at that call and realizing how daft that woman had to of been. If she had a business card, our name would have been at the top. And it sounded NOTHING like a sex line. XD
_______________________________________
Second verse, same as the first! Many years later...
BG: I was working at a local hotel chain as a maid. We alternated duties, sometimes you were doing rooms, sometimes you were doing general cleaning. This day I was doing general cleaning. So I'm out of the "suite" (not a big hotel here) getting the trash from the can outside. The bag is stuffed with crap, so as I pull it up with one hand, I automatically put my other hand on the bottom as I'm getting ready to put it on the ground.
Never do this.
I felt a sharp pain in my thumb and pulled my hand back. Blood. Not much, just a touch. So I'm thinking, great, probably have to get a shot or something now. I figured I should see what stuck me, in case someone threw away a knife or something. Can't have the bag rip and garbage go everywhere. What I found was...well, it was interesting.
Down in the bottom of the bag was not one, not two, but over TWENTY used needles. All the needles did have caps, except, of course, for the one that had apparently nailed my thumb. So after I stopped being frozen with a look on my face, I took the entire bag over to where my supervisor was and showed her what was in it as I explained what happened. She freaked out. She calls the hotel manager over. He freaked out.
I was the only one who was calm, and I'm the one who got stuck! Geez, people, go clean at a hospital for a few years, it'll do you some good! Eventually they went through enough of the bag the needles were all in to determine they came from the suite. Now, all I was concerned about (having been a former hospital cleaner) was whether or not whoever used these needles had anything communicable by blood that I should be aware of. You know, like AIDS. Kinda important I figured. So after filling out a police report (where they said they couldn't really DO anything anyway, le sigh) the hotel manager himself drove me to the hospital. We checked in and did a base test for insurance, just making sure I didn't ALREADY have something. That way if something came up in later tests, it was pretty definite it was from this stick and workers' comp would cover it no problem.
Once we get back, we learn that the assistant manager had been trying to get ahold of the couple in the suite, simply to let them know what happened and to see if they would voluntarily tell us if the person using the needles had anything communicable. We were being pretty damn nice about this, considering. It was an older couple (50s, 60s or so) and all the man would say that his wife took Ritalin to help her sleep.
........what?
They'd been in there only 2 DAYS. There were over TWENTY needles in there! For 2 days! Was she married to Rip Van Winkle?! The couple had pre-paid by credit card and lived in another state. Apparently after the assistant manager called, they immediately packed up and booked it out of there. Grrrrrr. So by the time we got back from the hospital, they were long gone and they had sent two girls in to clean, telling them to watch out for more needles.
And there were more. Around THIRTY more. Along with dozens of empty bottles of prescription medications that had names no where near matching this couples' name. So we had the police come BACK out, where they again said there was little they could (worthlessssssssss). I then spent the next YEAR of my life, visiting my doctor every 3 months to be tested. After having blood drawn, I'd chew my nails for 2 days waiting for results to come back and tell me if I was still okay.
I was cleared after my last test a year after it happened, but there's not too many people who can say they had a sucky customer experience that lasted for 365 days straight.
As a side note, the hotel did buy sharps containers that they kept at the front desk and informed all guests after that of them, and that were of use free of charge. They also purchased "stick-proof" gloves for anyone getting the trash to wear from that day forward.
So I suppose some good came from it. And there you have it. My first and my worst. Good times. I now work as an appointment scheduler at a doctor's office. Much safer, lots more phone suck. khehe
BG: The first tale comes from when I was 8 years old. Yes, 8. My parents use to own a business in which they sold 'trivets'. These are little scented hot pads - you put a hot casserole dish on them and whatever scent was inside would come out. Very fragrant and quite popular. They worked out of their home for years and years and my brother and I would help out here and there as we were growing up. They also had a toll free line, which spelled out "hot pads" for the number. Cute, no? Important for this story, too.
It was after dinner and the phone rang. At this time it was normally just family calling or something, so I picked it up as I was in the living room with Dad watching tv and was closest to the phone. Given this was 22 years ago, forgive me a bit that I can't tell you exactly how the conversation went, but I've never been able to forget some of it.
Cast -
Me: Me of Course
CL: Crazy Lady
Dad: I think my list is kinda obvious. Hmm..
[Phone Rings]
Me: Hello?
CL: Yeah, I just found a card in my husband's wallet with this number on it, what kind of service is this?
Me: We sell trivets? *I was already thinking to myself, "wtf, lady, why don't you ask your HUSBAND?*
CL: Excuse me?
Me: We sell scented hot pads. You put them on dis-
CL: I cannot even believe that a place like this exists! You don't even sound old enough to be working in something like this! What the hell kind of business is this?
Me: Uh, we sell scented hot-
CL: How old are you!?
Me:
Uh, eight?CL: *goes off on some rant that I didn't understand until years later. She apparently thought we were some kind of sex line*
Me: *hands phone out to Dad* Uh, you might wanna talk to this lady, Daddy. She sounds confused. *thinking: and mental*
Yeah. That one's stuck with me forEVER. I don't know what Dad said to her, but I know he wasn't happy and left the living room to finish the conversation. Probably thought he was going to have to do "the talk" with me after that.
I remember finding out about all that kind of stuff years later, looking back at that call and realizing how daft that woman had to of been. If she had a business card, our name would have been at the top. And it sounded NOTHING like a sex line. XD_______________________________________
Second verse, same as the first! Many years later...
BG: I was working at a local hotel chain as a maid. We alternated duties, sometimes you were doing rooms, sometimes you were doing general cleaning. This day I was doing general cleaning. So I'm out of the "suite" (not a big hotel here) getting the trash from the can outside. The bag is stuffed with crap, so as I pull it up with one hand, I automatically put my other hand on the bottom as I'm getting ready to put it on the ground.
Never do this.
I felt a sharp pain in my thumb and pulled my hand back. Blood. Not much, just a touch. So I'm thinking, great, probably have to get a shot or something now. I figured I should see what stuck me, in case someone threw away a knife or something. Can't have the bag rip and garbage go everywhere. What I found was...well, it was interesting.
Down in the bottom of the bag was not one, not two, but over TWENTY used needles. All the needles did have caps, except, of course, for the one that had apparently nailed my thumb. So after I stopped being frozen with a
look on my face, I took the entire bag over to where my supervisor was and showed her what was in it as I explained what happened. She freaked out. She calls the hotel manager over. He freaked out.I was the only one who was calm, and I'm the one who got stuck! Geez, people, go clean at a hospital for a few years, it'll do you some good! Eventually they went through enough of the bag the needles were all in to determine they came from the suite. Now, all I was concerned about (having been a former hospital cleaner) was whether or not whoever used these needles had anything communicable by blood that I should be aware of. You know, like AIDS. Kinda important I figured. So after filling out a police report (where they said they couldn't really DO anything anyway, le sigh) the hotel manager himself drove me to the hospital. We checked in and did a base test for insurance, just making sure I didn't ALREADY have something. That way if something came up in later tests, it was pretty definite it was from this stick and workers' comp would cover it no problem.
Once we get back, we learn that the assistant manager had been trying to get ahold of the couple in the suite, simply to let them know what happened and to see if they would voluntarily tell us if the person using the needles had anything communicable. We were being pretty damn nice about this, considering. It was an older couple (50s, 60s or so) and all the man would say that his wife took Ritalin to help her sleep.
........what?
They'd been in there only 2 DAYS. There were over TWENTY needles in there! For 2 days! Was she married to Rip Van Winkle?! The couple had pre-paid by credit card and lived in another state. Apparently after the assistant manager called, they immediately packed up and booked it out of there. Grrrrrr. So by the time we got back from the hospital, they were long gone and they had sent two girls in to clean, telling them to watch out for more needles.
And there were more. Around THIRTY more. Along with dozens of empty bottles of prescription medications that had names no where near matching this couples' name. So we had the police come BACK out, where they again said there was little they could (worthlessssssssss). I then spent the next YEAR of my life, visiting my doctor every 3 months to be tested. After having blood drawn, I'd chew my nails for 2 days waiting for results to come back and tell me if I was still okay.
I was cleared after my last test a year after it happened, but there's not too many people who can say they had a sucky customer experience that lasted for 365 days straight.
As a side note, the hotel did buy sharps containers that they kept at the front desk and informed all guests after that of them, and that were of use free of charge. They also purchased "stick-proof" gloves for anyone getting the trash to wear from that day forward.
So I suppose some good came from it. And there you have it. My first and my worst. Good times.
I now work as an appointment scheduler at a doctor's office. Much safer, lots more phone suck. khehe
That said, that whole experience sounds horrible *shudders* So glad you came thru OK, and didn't get anything 
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