Professionals Reveal What Happened When Someone Tried To Correct Them But Got It Wrong


Experts are such for a reason - they know what they're talking about.

So when someone tries to correct them, and it backfires, beware.

No mercy for know-it-alls.

WanderingSeii asked: What's the worst thing someone tried to correct you about something you're specialized at?

Submissions have been edited for clarity, context, and profanity.

10. Moooooooove.

My wife has a friend who studied zoology who once told me that cows can't run or jump. I grew up with them. I - more than once - had to run after or away from them after they had jumped a fence.

Cows are f*cking fast when they want to be.


Our neighbours had a cow who learned how to kneel down and crawl across cattle guards. She roamed the area for years, couldn't be contained.


We had a white-faced Hereford cow who learned how to delicately walk over cattle guards and leap over barbed wire fences. You know the rest of the cows were looking at her like, "bitch." We named her "Crazy" because she had a mind of her own and was impossible to get into the corral. When she had a calf, she taught her little one how to get out through the cattle guard, too. She also was just built more athletically than any of the others, always made me think she was part horse.


9. Lightning isn't a joke.

I work in Lightning Protection here in the States. I do the estimating and the designs for the largest company in the southeast. Have for going on 7 years. Certified through our industry's certification company.

The amount of engineers and architects that love to argue with me about the code is astounding. I live that code. Being I estimate and design systems, my main job is to know that code.

The worst was the Army Corps of Engineers. We had a project that their designer designed that was in the bid package drawings. Pretty standard, pick out the materials requested and ignore the incorrect design. That is how we bid it, won it, and designed it. This would have provided them with a fully certified system. In our business, a U.L. Master Label certification is as close to a requirement for every job as anything can be.

Two weeks after we submit our design it comes back with a revise/resubmit stamp and a very snarky demand from the Corps that we change our design to the one provided in the bid package. I went back and forth on email and calls with the engineers trying to explain to them that their system would not work, was potentially a dangerous hazard, and ultimately could not be certified or warrantied.

The came back basically with we don't care what you say, we know better, do it. So i did. Designed exactly like they had and put a disclaimer on the drawing saying there would be issues and we were not responsible.

A few months go by, its installed and ready for certification. They call the inspector out and he fails it without even getting on the roof. The Army is pissed and tried to come back at us. I politely forward the countless email chains to the officer in charge.

Now they scramble to get it up to code. As a consequence it resulted in us issuing a change order to bring it up to code that was around 75% of the original cost of the project.

Thank you for the silver!


8. Yeah, screw that guy.

I didn't specialize on it but when I worked a the deli in my local grocery store I had a guy come in asking for some sliced ham. I asked him if he wanted Black Forest ham, honey baked or mesquite ham.

He looked at me and said It's not mesquite, it's mestique.

I pointed at the sign and label (on the actual efing ham!) that said Mesquite Ham but he still corrected me. I gave up and gave him his damn mestique ham. This was a good 15 years ago and I'm still mad about it.


My hometown is Mesquite. That cracks me up. I'm gonna start calling it Mestique.


7. There is a method, but come on.

I'm a professional pastry cook. The GM at my new job tried to reteach me how to crack eggs.


There's a right way to crack eggs?


Crack them on something flat rather than on the edge of something. No chance of breaking the yolk prematurely since you don't have an edge to pop the membrane keeping it whole.


That's what I do. And i can do one in each hand.

He wants me to crack them against each other.


6. Just lower the house, NBD.

A new house gets built next door to mine, and shortly after the owners move in, they knock on my door to complain that my house is built too high. I explain that my house was/is built on flat ground and their builder has built their house lower, and undercut my fence. The guy proceeds to give a long winded spiel about how earthworks are done and my house is too high and I have to fix it. I then explain that I do earthworks for a living, have done the earthworks for 300+ houses in my suburb alone, and around 1200 in the local area. I name his builder, site supervisor, engineer, the exact floor levels in the street, and the law that says that he has to pay to fix my fence.

He still hasn't paid, and legal procedures are beginning soon.

Earthworks in this case is the removal of topsoil and any mud/clay/organic matter from beneath where the house is going to go, and replacing it with clean compacted sand, trimmed dead flat to within 10mm.

Because his block was lowered and leveled to suit his engineer, he is responsible for retaining the land around him, which is now higher than his.

I was prepared to let it slide, because his place being lower now helps my drainage in heavy rain. But when he wanted ME to pay for HIS retaining wall responsibility, AND would not pay for his half of the fence, I decided that I had enough bluster and BS. Time to pay up.


5. Going up? Shot down.

I got shut down by this actually. I was arguing with my cousin while we were in an old hydraulic elevator. I said the hydraulic elevators are slow, crap and have far more failures than cable elevators. The guy standing across from us laughs, shakes his head and says he's an elevator repairman, and that's not true at all. Shamed.


4. This fake pot plot.

"Marijuana actually fertilizes the soil you grow it in, other plants take nutrients out of the soil, but cannabis leaves the soil more nutrient rich than it was to begin with."

Cool story bro. I guess I can throw out all these expensive fertilizers and grow my plants off hippie magic. By the way, that scraggly looking pot plant on your windowsill is dying, and it's a male.


That reminds me of this idiot I knew who sexed a whole (horribly set up) 4000w room to be male. When I pointed out this glaring problem, he refused to believe that Female plants are desirable because "women are weak." I wished him best of luck.


3. Stay in your decade.

My friend and I went to Dapper Day at Disney last weekend, where people dress up in vintage wear. One of Disney's photographers asked my friend if she was Disney bounding (interpreting a Disney character) and she replied that she was simply a generic dress circa 1955.

The photographer began telling us how she was really much more late 1940s, and that we may have researched it, but he lived through it, and next time we should look at a picture.

We are both professional theatrical costumers whose strengths lie in historical costuming and her dress was taken directly from a 1955 catalogue. Further, based on his approximate age, and being generous that he may have aged well, this man was definitely not older than 5 in 1955.


2. Alcohol makes people do strange things.

In the Netherlands we have different sized glasses for our pilsner. They all have a different name. The smallest, 0,18L is called a Flute (Fluitje), the middle a Vase (Vaasje) and the large, 0,5L we just call "half a liter" or pint. Sometimes the bar has a medium of 0.33l as well, that doesnt really have a name.

Anyway, most people drink Flutes or Vases. You'd order "a Flute, please" or "a Vase, please" and you'll always be served the house pilsner (moest well know one is Heineken, of course) in the size you ordered.

As you might have guessed by now, I am a bartender. I was at work in a bar and had a group of 5 dudes drinking Vases, a lot of them too. Thing is; is you order "a beer," you'll be served a vase of pilsner as a standard. Everyone knows this, it's common knowledge (in the Netherlands) and noone ever objects to it.

These dudes had been ordering "5 beers, please" the whole night. They were served vases (so 0,25L) the whole night. When time came to pay, I gave them their bill and it said 35 X Vase pf Heineken.

Then they tried to argue with me that the glass I served them, the 0,25L one, is not a Vase but a Flute, that a Flute was 0,25 and not 0,18 and that a Vase is 0,33l. I told them dudes I was not going to argue about something as ridiculous as this, as anyone who drinks beer in the Netherlands knows what a Flute and a Vase is, and everyone know what size they are. But they refused to pay, so I told them to google it. They did. They found a website that listed the sizes and names of the glasses, but they wouldnt believe it because "the website must be owned by Heineken" Sure, a Flute and Vase conspiracy, that's a new one.

They told me the bar next door serves a vase of 0,33l for the same price we serve a 0,25l one, so they weren't going to pay. I told them to cut their crap, that I work in that bar too (I do) and that the price of a 0,33 was higher than our 0,25 and that it's not called a vase. He didn't believe me and looked up their drinks menu (as if it would even matter what the prices next door were, even IF they would be lower). He found out that, once again, I was right, but had some bs excuse as to why I was still wrong...

In the end I told them to pay or I'd call the cops, so they paid but said they were going to write a complaint e-mail which I encouraged them to do. At this point even other costumers were telling them to stop being ridiculous. I kindly asked them to never return again. They came back in a week later, but I told them they would not be served, they tried ordering drink from my co-worker but he told them to fuc off too so they just stood at the bar for a while and left. Fecking idiots.


1. Americans aren't known for their foreign language prowess.

My parents are Italian, I speak Italian, and I've had people in the U.S. who are 1/4 Italian at best, or who once ate Italian food, correct me on the pronunciation of any number of things.

Yeah, I've forgotten how to say a lot of things, so maybe I'm not a 'specialist' per se, but sauce isn't called "gravy" in Italy, sorry.


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