Christ on a cracker, my irl name isn't terribly unusual. (Let's pretend it's Suzanne-French spelling of a semi uncommon name). A week or so ago, another guy commented on my name, just like a couple weeks ago. The only difference is that this guy wasn't an old man. This new guy insisted my name was misspelled and kept pronouncing it weirdly. "Suzzin".
I got a similar reaction from a place I called back for a job interview, where she talking about a woman with the name "Sussin", the German/Dutch spelling of it. I said, "You mean Suzanne? They are both the same name, just spelled differently!" She ignored me and kept on talking about "Sussin" and how unusual it was, til I gave up.
Bonus: "Your customer service sucks"
I've gone ~30 years of my life without a broken bone. Til yesterday. Whacked my smallest toe on my right foot against the newspaper cabinet stand thingy we have in the kitchen, where we keep the newspapers and magazines before we recycle them. Dad didn't believe me and kept insisting I had stubbed my toe. I went to work anyway and stood for 4.5 hours on my feet. Could barely walk. Face scrunched up in pain, and I imagine I looked on the verge on tears.
Dude grumbled at me that I shouldn't be there, my customer service sucked and why did I look so unhappy? I told him, with my best smile, "Oh you know, broken toes hurt. I think I have the right to be a little unhappy. !" He grabbed his stuff and flounced away.
Happily, I am much better today, even if my foot is bruised to hell. Got my foot xrayed and now have one of those fancy padded boot thingys. Not quite happy I broke my record of not having broken bones, but eh .
I got a similar reaction from a place I called back for a job interview, where she talking about a woman with the name "Sussin", the German/Dutch spelling of it. I said, "You mean Suzanne? They are both the same name, just spelled differently!" She ignored me and kept on talking about "Sussin" and how unusual it was, til I gave up.
Bonus: "Your customer service sucks"
I've gone ~30 years of my life without a broken bone. Til yesterday. Whacked my smallest toe on my right foot against the newspaper cabinet stand thingy we have in the kitchen, where we keep the newspapers and magazines before we recycle them. Dad didn't believe me and kept insisting I had stubbed my toe. I went to work anyway and stood for 4.5 hours on my feet. Could barely walk. Face scrunched up in pain, and I imagine I looked on the verge on tears.
Dude grumbled at me that I shouldn't be there, my customer service sucked and why did I look so unhappy? I told him, with my best smile, "Oh you know, broken toes hurt. I think I have the right to be a little unhappy. !" He grabbed his stuff and flounced away.
Happily, I am much better today, even if my foot is bruised to hell. Got my foot xrayed and now have one of those fancy padded boot thingys. Not quite happy I broke my record of not having broken bones, but eh .
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