The dumbass factor.
- Thread starter Professur
- Start date
PrincessLissa
New Member
Well, I am glad a naked man didn't jump in the back of my car.
Inkara1
Well-Known Member
RadioShack occasionally does an overstock redistribution. It transfers stuff from stores that can't sell it to stores that can. You can imagine that race scanners sell better at stores in Talladega, Ala. than at stores in Fairbanks, Alaska. In any event, my store received two lists of stuff to send away, and the job fell to me to get the stuff rounded up, boxed and sent off. If it said to send eight football-shaped remote controls, I grabbed eight. I then checked items off the list as I put them in the box to make sure everything was there, and only after that did I print the UPS labels and do the ICST in the computer to bill the other store for them.
You'd think other stores would do the same for what they sent us. But, for example, on the second shipment we had come in, this one from one of the stores in Santa Barbara, my manager had to call the manager of that store and tell him, "hey, I'm going to have to bill you back for these three items you billed us for but didn't send... and what about these four items you sent us but didn't bill us for?"
Our store received no such calls... in other words, everything in the shipments I put together was on the billing sheets, and everything on the billing sheets was in the shipments. I thought that seemed simple enough.
You'd think other stores would do the same for what they sent us. But, for example, on the second shipment we had come in, this one from one of the stores in Santa Barbara, my manager had to call the manager of that store and tell him, "hey, I'm going to have to bill you back for these three items you billed us for but didn't send... and what about these four items you sent us but didn't bill us for?"
Our store received no such calls... in other words, everything in the shipments I put together was on the billing sheets, and everything on the billing sheets was in the shipments. I thought that seemed simple enough.
SouthernN'Proud
Southern Discomfort
In my career as a probation/parole officer, I have been privvy to some real doozy dumb criminal stories. This one might be my favorite. This is how it was presented(not word for word, but the gist is there) in court by the district attorney during sentencing for a man pleading to a variety of charges.
Our hero (OH for short) has no drivers license, having had them suspended for numerous DUI convictions. This little fact does not stop him from visiting a local bar for a beer or twelve one evening. While enjoying his suds, two uniformed police officers enter the tavern on a completely unrelated call. Mind you, this is a small town...OH is well known. Upon spying the officers, OH keeps a low profile until they leave. He waits about 15 minutes, and decides that he has pressing business at home that requires his full attention post haste. Not being wasteful, he takes his open beer and one for the road, exits the bar, and gets in his truck to leave.
This tavern is located on a main street of town, with a wide gravel lot that slopes downhill toward the bar. As OH enters his vehicle, he notices two parked police cars near the street in the lot, seemingly watching traffic and conversing one with another. Never one to abandon a good plan, OH starts his engine and prepares to pull out onto the street. He notices that his present line of travel has led him to a curb...he has missed the entryway, not uncommon due to the slope of the lot. He backs up...right into the parked police car. Realizing his faux pas, he attempts a high speed reversal, resulting in...you guessed it...a sudden impact with the other parked police car.
Needless to say, OH was quickly and without further incident apprehended, and transported to the county jail.
Upon hearing the summary of the evening's activities, the sentencing judge, a stern and gentile man, leaned forward and had this to say to OH in front of the semi-packed courtroom: "Son, don't you know that the first and primary rule of driving drunk is never, EVER, hit a cop? Three years, credit for time served, balance in the Department of Correction."
Two beers in a tavern: $6
Lawyer for court date: $1500
The laughter of your peers as you are ridiculed by the judge: Priceless!
Our hero (OH for short) has no drivers license, having had them suspended for numerous DUI convictions. This little fact does not stop him from visiting a local bar for a beer or twelve one evening. While enjoying his suds, two uniformed police officers enter the tavern on a completely unrelated call. Mind you, this is a small town...OH is well known. Upon spying the officers, OH keeps a low profile until they leave. He waits about 15 minutes, and decides that he has pressing business at home that requires his full attention post haste. Not being wasteful, he takes his open beer and one for the road, exits the bar, and gets in his truck to leave.
This tavern is located on a main street of town, with a wide gravel lot that slopes downhill toward the bar. As OH enters his vehicle, he notices two parked police cars near the street in the lot, seemingly watching traffic and conversing one with another. Never one to abandon a good plan, OH starts his engine and prepares to pull out onto the street. He notices that his present line of travel has led him to a curb...he has missed the entryway, not uncommon due to the slope of the lot. He backs up...right into the parked police car. Realizing his faux pas, he attempts a high speed reversal, resulting in...you guessed it...a sudden impact with the other parked police car.
Needless to say, OH was quickly and without further incident apprehended, and transported to the county jail.
Upon hearing the summary of the evening's activities, the sentencing judge, a stern and gentile man, leaned forward and had this to say to OH in front of the semi-packed courtroom: "Son, don't you know that the first and primary rule of driving drunk is never, EVER, hit a cop? Three years, credit for time served, balance in the Department of Correction."
Two beers in a tavern: $6
Lawyer for court date: $1500
The laughter of your peers as you are ridiculed by the judge: Priceless!
SouthernN'Proud
Southern Discomfort
A little of both. Not exactly the kind of place you go to looking for a quiet evening...
