Cringe & Facepalm

Recently while eating at Golden Corral, I got a new plate and went to the line for getting a piece of steak. The only other guy there requested well done and was having to wait a couple of minutes. The guy handling the steaks had stepped away for a moment and was coming back. In the meantime, another guy was trying to step between the first guy and myself, cutting in front of a couple of other people. When I mentioned that he needed to go to the back of the line, he said that they were waiting for well done. He couldn't have known that because they hadn't even had a chance to ask yet, and the two people consisted of a relative of mine (who likes medium rare) and his girlfriend, who were there with me.

Guy was still trying to squeeze to try to get in front of me, but I didn't back away to let him. Funny thing is, his attempts failed because after I got my piece, the cook looked over to my relative (next in line) and asked what he wanted, despite the other guy still trying to act like he was next.

Still annoying that someone would try that at all, let alone when there wasn't much of a line so waiting would have been minimal.

My MIL and I were out shopping and I said I was gonna head home for some lunch and she says, “aren’t you guys going out to dinner?” So??! Even on a road trip to Florida, it was painful for them to stop and grab something. I had to be like hellooo, could I grab some subway??! You guys can starve, but I need some nourishment lol. Why are they like this?

Just a quick post about something that just happened.

I was sitting in my office at the University where I teach and had a knock on the door. One of my second year students came in and an older person I found out was her father followed her in. I had barely finished asking then how I could help when dad opened up with "It's not acceptable that my daughter got such a low score in her last assignment, I want you to change the marks." The poor student looked so embarrassed as her dad went on. The classic "We've paid good money to get on this course so I expect better marks, I've paid cash for this she won't have a student loan to pay off at the end."

I let him continue ranting and eventually got to respond. I simply asked the student if she had read the feedback I provided on the assignment, she said she had, I asked if she felt it was a fair reflection of the work she submitted and again, she said it did. I then suggested that she needed to put more effort into revising for the examinations coming up in a few weeks and that overall, while it was a summative assessment, it was not going to prevent her passing the end of year assessment. I then told the dad, I'm paid to provide realistic feedback on her work, the fact he paid cash for her tuition does not mean she gets good marks without her submitting work that merits good marks.

We hear this argument so often now in Universities, I know tuition is expensive, but you don't pay for the grade you get, you have to work for it. Simply being wealthy doesn't mean your kids are entitled to a free pass in education.

Howdy partners, long time lurker, first time poster here. I work in the notoriously complaint-laden gambling industry and this sub vibes with me on a spiritual level. Here's something that happened to me today.

So my job is to be a "propositional player." Most people call it banking. In states like California where gambling is illegal, it's not illegal for a third party company to have it's employees sit on the table to pay out instead of the house. We also act as table referees when something goes wrong. So some players have issue with us for that reason and think we're always out to try and make them lose, even though, in reality, none of us really care that much. You rarely hear complaints when someone gets underpaid and you fix it, however.

So on one table, we have a regular, let's call him Charles. Charles and his wife are infamous for their bad attitudes. Nothing ever makes them happy, ever. Flush? Well it's not a straight flush. Four of a kind? It could pay more, it's so cheap here. Royal flush? Well, they're down, so they can't tip.

When cards are dealt, betting is over. No exceptions. So on the table that I'm assigned to, Charles is playing, waiting for a spot at a different table. As the dealer reaches for the cards, he starts to move. I see it before it happens, because clairvoyance. And extreme predictability. Sure enough, he moves two chips off his bet onto the bonus bet- as the cards leave the shuffle machine and are dealt out.

I remember my days of rigorous training. I stop the game and tell the dealer, "The cards were out. Please move the bet from the bonus to the base on seat #." Charles, now realizing I'm talking about him, looks up. Asks me, "Huh? What?"

I say in my most monotone voice, because most bankers are professional Ben Stein impersonators, "The cards were out, so the chips on the bonus bet needs to go back."

He says, "Oh. Well what does everyone else want to do?" Gesturing to some of the other players. No one speaks up. Many players rely on the "angry mob" method to defend themselves. But I know better. I reiterate, "It's just got to go back on the base bet." No emotion. No passion. Just the facts.

He then angrily yanks the chips off the spot, saying "Well now I don't wanna play it!" He has now altered the bet after the hand has started. Big no-no. The dealer, now realizing they should intervene, tells him, "Just put 2 chips on the back bet. The cards were out."

Charles once again tries the court of public opinion method. "Well I'll do that if everyone wants to do that." But they all know better than to come between a banker and his prey.

Or they just don't care. The dealer once again tells him, "Just put it back, Charles." Realizing he in fact, cannot squirrel his way out of playing his $2 on a game of three-card poker, puts it back on the table in a huff. And keeps his glare on me the whole time. The hand comes and goes, and he loses it all. He mutters, "My god this place is going downhill." Two more hands come and go. He doesn't play them. He gets the idea to play on someone else's bet, which is allowed. This is very lucrative, for one hand. Then, that person loses their last dollar and leaves. It's now Charles and one other person, plus me, and the dealer. More hands come and go, Charles refrains from playing. Finally, he breaks the silence.

"Gimme a rack!" He yells at the dealer, and also me. I find an empty chip rack, which I pass to the dealer, who passes it to Charles. He begins to rack up his chips. He colors up, pockets the big chips, and stands up. He starts to make his way toward the cage. The dealer says "Thank you for playing!" I say nothing, cause customer service ain't in my job description. He makes sure to walk past me and grumbles to himself, just loud enough for me to hear, "This place sure is going downhill!" Then goes to join his wife in her complaining. The player next to me looks at me like I'm supposed to shoot something back. I look at her, and I say what me and the dealer are both thinking. "He says that like he's not going to be back here tomorrow."

It's 3am currently as I finish typing, I go back at 6pm. I fully expect Charles and his wife to both be there. No one likes either of them. He doesn't tip more than a dollar at a time. The break room shit-talk agrees that if they have kids, the kids don't talk to them. They absolutely do not see their grandkids. Just two more miserable people wasting away at the card tables, because nowhere else will tolerate them being miserable quite like the casino. Your money, but maybe not your complaints, are always good there.

Edit: Formatting

I'm a senior, about to graduate in less than 2 weeks. I'm transfem and I have made this known to teachers and staff. Earlier in the year there was a dispute over what I needed to wear for my senior photo. I chose the drape because I did not want the tux. After the photo was done, my Assistant Principal ended up calling me to her office and telling me that she didn't want me to feel uncomfortable and wished there was a gender-neutral option. She also told me that it's likely that since I didn't wear the tux I wouldn't be included in the yearbook, and surprise surprise, that's what happened. Supposedly some kind of district policy because I live in Texas. I refused to buy a yearbook I probably wouldn't be in, especially considering it's 80 damn dollars. It just pisses me off that I won't even be remembered because they don't like my identity. At least my teachers who are supportive/indifferent will remember me.