Storytelling

I enjoy telling stories.


Most of the time I keep a lid on the telling of tales, because my stories are often inappropriate for the people with whom I'm speaking--because they make me sound callow or a braggart (or callow for thinking it's bragging).

Part of the value in telling stories is the release, right? Having something happen and then just having to get it off my chest. Catharsis to some extent.

The other part of the value I receive is in the response to the story: affirmation that it was an interesting happening, or perhaps even feeling that I entertained the listener.

Unlike some story tellers, I really prefer not to embellish. I don't want to blow things out of proportion. I'd prefer to tell honest stories that are ridiculous enough without having to stretch the truth.

Not all stories I tell are ridiculous, and they can be quite mundane at times.

This weekend, in fact, I had an encounter that I might relay to friends in person or over chat, but only through a story I heard this morning is it rendered blog-worthy.

Here's my story. I'll then tell you the story I heard... and how it dwarfs (even if in a mundane way) mine.

[story]I get emails every morning from Groupon and Living Social. I buy something every couple weeks or so. In case you're not familiar with these websites, they offer local coupons that you can buy... and they're often "$25 worth of food and drink for $10" types of deals.

I recently subscribed to another website, Tippr, and purchased a "$25 worth of food and drink for $10" at Papa John's. I enjoy that pizza, and there's no place that delivers to my apartment, so I made a deal with TM2000 that he'd drive if I bought the coupon.

OK. Fine.

Fast forward to Saturday. TM2000 and I order food and we drive there to pick it up. I have my Nexus One with the Tippr coupon (including certificate number) up on my phone. I'm ready to pay tax, etc., as needed. I even had planned to tip.

When we got to the counter, I was told I needed to have a printout of my coupon.

I've successfully used coupons from other services and not had to print anything out. I don't even own a printer, for heaven's sake. (Actually, I do; I just don't own a printer cable... maybe I do embellish my stories.)

I asked why I needed a printout. She said that they needed the certificate number. I showed her the number on the phone. She asked her manager... or some older-looking dude who may have been the manager. I was told I needed a printout.

I told them to forget it and that I thought it was ridiculous.

And TM2000 and I went to another place where we ate lots of pizza.

I plan on emailing Tippr to complain and see if I can get my money back or what. It's nice to have something to complain about, but I would rather have had pizza from Papa John's as I'd planned.[/story]

This morning at work we had a weird staff meeting with a very strong Valentine's Day theme, and my bosses (who are married) talked about their plans for tonight. Their story makes mine seem even more boring than it is.

[story]About five years ago, my bosses went to a restaurant with a group of people. There were eight people all told, and their group was placed between two other loud and active groups. While the food was very good, the service was terrible. They were all but ignored, and when a group spends $1200, being ignored is not very nice.

One of my bosses expressed her concern through an email. She stated that the food was excellent, but that it would be hard to return if that was the level of service that should be expected.

It appears she was fishing for something... free dessert? An apology? Something to let her know her business was valued.

Instead, she got a very defensive email from the owner. I don't know what was written, but it was enough to keep her (and her friends) from attending the restaurant from that night until now.

She did, though, receive a gift certificate to the new location, and my bosses made reservations for dinner tonight. It had been years, after all, and they had a gift certificate to use.

Fine, right? Seems fine unless you're the owner of the restaurant... because you've got a very long memory.

He emailed my boss and let her know that he remembered her and her complaints and hoped that she wouldn't cause trouble. (A paraphrase on what I was told; I don't know the actual language that was used.)

They have reservations, and after being assured by my coworkers that it was unlikely that there will be spit in their food (at least more than normal), I think they plan on going. They do, after all, have a gift certificate to use.[/story]

Both stories have a similar theme: patient and understanding customer ruthlessly discriminated against by food service entities. My story is based on a financial transation that's about 0.08% as large as theirs, though, and Papa John himself was not carrying a grudge.

At least not yet. That would be a good story.