Last week a sewerage pipe burst in my office's waiting room, literally leaving urine and feces all over the floor (feel free to read the story at http://shrinktalk.net/?p=2076 if you want to be disgusted). I had to cancel multiple patients that day which, of course, meant no $. The building doesn't have to reimburse me, however, because I can't prove negligence on their part. FOCUS: What are some more interesting ways you've been fucked over by The Man? How did you cope with it? Did you feel helpless? Were there practical options available to you to remedy the issue or did you just have to take it up the tailpipe?
AT&T owes me $300 in special offer gift cards that I will never, ever get because somebody fucked up. I actually know who it is, it's a smarmy little Asian kid who comes to peddle their wares in my building every couple months. I have actually tried contacting him but of course he's like "oh, I'm on it, I'm on it!" and then promptly forgets.
This is a topical thread because I have been going crazy this week trying to find a professor to agree to review my independent study this summer. I can't do the independent study without a signature from a full-time faculty member—my school relies heavily on part-time and adjunct professors (over 70%), and during the summer my department is almost completely void of full-time professors. I contacted 13 professors asking me if they could sign on for my independent study, and was promptly rejected by all of them—that's every available professor in my department. As a result, I can't complete the independent study and I'm going to have to go a different—more tedious and more expensive—route. The last professor I asked today was the dean of my department. His response was to promptly report me to my academic advisor for seeking "grade inflation." She had to explain to him that what I was doing was, indeed, allowed. He then ignored my and her subsequent emails. The kicker? Reviewing my independent study would have required only 20 minutes per month[/i] of their time this summer. One meeting before I wrote the paper, one meeting on the rough draft, and one meeting on the final draft. Fuck academics and their ivory towers.
At the last ad agency I worked for in NY, the brass brought in some "visionary" career IBMer who was "going to taken the agency to the next level." Well, his "vision" and "strategy" was to eliminate my department and outsource it to a media planning and buying agency (and we were told the Friday before Thanksgiving). Six months after he excised our department and fucked with the lives of about 20 people, brass let him go (after a two-comma golden handshake).
I'm not sure if this count, because technically he is a small-business owner, but my boss from the diner I worked at in high school still owes me somewhere between $60-$200. He's a friend of the family, so I mention it whenever I see him at a party, but I have not gotten any of the money yet.
Before my dad passed away three years ago he had ordered one of those motorized scooters so he could travel around a bit. Order was placed, scooter arrived on the day he passed away. I walked into my parents place and here's this giant box sitting by the front door. My mom obviously didn't have a need for the scooter so the task fell to me to return the scooter. I contacted the company with whom the scooter was purchased, got an RMA#, and shipping instructions. I was also told that they were going to charge a 25% restocking fee on the scooter. I think the thing cost $1200-1300 dollars so a 25% restock was around $300. I immediately asked to speak to a manager and try and negotiate a better restock fee. I understand there's costs associated with restocking items, somebody has to do paper work, receive the shipment, etc. But the box wasn't even opened. I literally tore off the ship to label and replaced with a new one and sent it back. I eventually ended up talking to the owner of the company and his response was "Sorry about your loss, but that's company policy". So what did I do? Lost my shit, yelled at the guy about how telling a customer "That's company policy" is a sure fire way to ensure that they will never deal with you again. Then I promptly went down to Fed Ex and shipped the damn thing back to them and my mom ate the $300 restock fee. Could I have sold it privately, sure but that's the last thing I wanted to be doing in the weeks following my dad's death.