October 17th, 2009


I've been back and forth about this one....

...but in the end I think it's most definitely bad service if it endangers the public.

Details: I work with the developmentally disabled. Occasionally I have to transport one of our clients to an appointment of one kind or another.

The other day I had to take a woman to the Food Handlers' Class where she met with her "job coach" in order to take the class, pass the test and qualify to work in a restaurant.

I believe I'll be writing to the Health Department about this one, since the help the "job coach" provided was extensive enough that I personally could pass the BAR EXAM with this kind of help. (For example, each question was read to the client, then the multiple-choice answers read also. The coach read with emphasis like so: "The answers are a, one hundred forty degrees; B, ONE HUNDRED SIXTY-FIVE DEGREES..." *pause* "...or c, one hundred eighty degrees." Then the client chose the wrong answer, A, anyway, despite the heavy emphasis on B, and the coach said, "Are you sure that's the answer you want?")

This client can't even remember the difference between hours and minutes and is not allowed to manage her own money. Allowing her to prepare or serve food is just crazy, and even dishwashing might well be beyond her capabilities.
  • Current Mood
    frustrated frustrated

Oh Burger King, I Love Your Cheesy Tots... but...

There is a Burger King across the street and a little ways up from my job. Every weekend when I work, my coworker and I get BK breakfast (and cheesy tots!) I absolutely LOVE this Burger King, they always have excellent service, they're fast and the food is always fresh etc etc. And after doing my long, long time as a McJockey, I am all over a fast food place that is A+.

Until today.
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My order was wrong. I go to get it corrected. They get it wrong another 500 times and get bitchy with me when I keep correcting them.

And yes, I will be calling the 1866 number on my freaking receipt. Yeesh.

Gromit on the roof

What? Pardon?

Dear Lady in Boots the Chemist

I'm temporarily deaf due to a cold/ear infection/ebola/plague thingy that makes everything sound like it's being played underwater. You know this, because I told you that I couldn't hear you, and that I needed to see your face to follow what you were saying. You apologised profusely, and the conversation continued roughly as followed.

Lady: 'I don't think we stock those so'...bends to have a look under the counter then straightens up.... 'in specially.'

Me: 'I'm sorry, I didn't catch that.'

Lady: 'It's okay, i'll just go and' ...walks off to, I assume, speak to a colleague, then comes back and starts hunting in another cabinet, still talking.

Me: 'Pardon?'

Lady: 'Okay, it looks like I have them in' ...checks something in drawer... 'so which do you think you need?'

And to add insult to injury you then tried to sell me a wrist splint that was two sizes too small and didn't do up over my arm, because 'it's meant to be tight.' I quite like having feeling in my fingers, thanks.

Fuck you muchly

The temporarily deaf chick with the injured wrist

Brighthouse WTF?

My ISP is Brighthouse. I don't have much choice; it's virtually a monopoly where I'm currently residing. Quality of service, predictably, suffers.

Someone broke into the apartment complex's cable box--several people ended up with free cable. But that's a... hmm, they wouldn't be customers, so maybe a people_suck post? In the process, my modem was knocked offline. I called Brighthouse--that's when pandemonium demonstrated its etemology--"pan", meaning "all", and "demonium", meaning "demons".

I dealt with three different techs over a five-day period. The first was an independent contractor--he said it wasn't his problem that other people were getting free cable, just as long as mine was working. The second tech, also an independent contractor, said that whoever broke into the box had damaged my connection so severely that they were going to have to rewire the whole thing. He said he couldn't do it then, and Brighthouse told me the soonest they could repair it was in four days.

I waited for the four days. This time they sent out a uniformed employee in a company van. He took a look at the box, then told me that the second tech had disconnected me along with the cable thieves. He finally got it back up and running, although the blasted connection doesn't always hold.

Oh, well, at least it's working now.