She Drove Right Into That

, , , | Related | November 12, 2019

(My mom can’t find her phone and is going through the house looking for it.)

Mom: “Hey, call my phone; I set it down and don’t remember where.”

Me: “Check the car. You leave it in there all the time.”

Mom: “No, I remember bringing it in and setting it down, just not where.”

(I call her phone multiple times but can’t hear it ring. She thanks me for trying and I go back to what I was doing. About ten minutes later, she comes into my room.)

Mom: “Found it.”

Me: “Where was it?”

Mom: “In the car.”

Me: “Really, Mother? In the… in the car? You found it in the car? Oh, if only someone could have suggested looking in there!”

(She just shut my door and left.)

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Doing A Disservice To Service Animals

, , , , | Right | November 12, 2019

Caller: “You’re a pet-friendly hotel, correct?”

Me: “No, sorry. We only allow service animals.”

Caller: “Oh.” *pause* “Do you require paperwork for service animals?”

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His Excuse Of “She Was Wearing Makeup” Doesn’t Dance With Us

, , , , , | Romantic | November 12, 2019

(In my teens, I used to dance competitively. If you’ve ever been to a dance competition, you know that even the young kids have to wear a LOT of stage makeup. This happens right after a competition day. My family has taken me to a restaurant for dinner to celebrate my new medals. I’m tired and sweaty, not all of my makeup would come off, and the waiting area is standing-room-only, so with my parents’ permission, I step out to a bench directly outside the waiting area. It’s a cool night, so I sprawl out on the bench and am soaking in the cool breeze when I hear voices nearby. I sit up and see some guys around eighteen or nineteen pointing at me and nudging each other. Before I can really ascertain what they are doing, one of them comes over to sit next to me.)

Guy: “Hey there. What are you doing here all alone?”

Me: *immediately flashing back to school warnings of strangers in white vans offering candy* “U-um… my parents are right in there!”

Guy: “Ugh, parents, right?”

Me: *visible confusion* “Um… yeah?”

Guy: “So, are you from around here?”

(The conversation continues for a few minutes with me giving vague, confused answers while the guy’s buddies stand around snickering at their friend apparently getting nowhere. I still haven’t figured out what’s going on, but then…)

Guy: “You’re kind of young, aren’t you? How old are you?”

Me: *honestly* “Th-thirteen…”

Guy: *jumping off the bench like it is white-hot* “WHOA! Okay! You have a great night, hon! Uh… call me in like… five years!”

(He bolted, his friends following after howling with laughter. I uneasily returned inside. My mom nearly had a heart attack when I recounted the exchange to her. Somehow she managed to miss the whole thing, even though I was within line-of-sight!)

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Should Be A Sanity Test For Membership

, , , , | Right | November 12, 2019

(I’m a manager at a membership-based wholesale club. I get called to the customer service desk to handle a complaint and the second I see the customer I know that it’s one of our notorious nutjobs.)

Customer: “I got removed from the account and now they say I can’t shop. I’ve been a customer for twenty years!”

(I look it up; she’s been here for five.)

Me: “Well, I can see that it was a glitch in our system that caused your membership to be inactive. I’ll fix it now.”

Customer: “Oh, thank you. The girl who sent you over was so rude!”

(The employee she was talking about is an immigrant from Iraq. She speaks English beautifully but comes off as abrupt because she speaks more properly than most and emphasizes certain words.)

Me: “I’m sorry you feel that way, but she is just trying to convey the same thing I’m telling you but in a much more proper manner. But everything with your account is all set.”

Customer: “You are amazing, unlike her. Give me your hands.”

(She then grabs my hands and leans in.)

Me: “I’m sorry, do you need something else?”

Customer: “I was going to kiss you.”

Me: “Please don’t.”

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Grandma Versus Modern Society

, , , | Related | November 12, 2019

(My grandmother lives with my family for a time after her husband passes. During this time, I graduate high school and start college. She has an uncanny ability to want something from me when I am studying and only while I am studying.)

Grandmother: “[My Name], you are always on that computer! Get off that computer and come help with dishes.” 

(I close the three textbooks I have in front of me and save the work on my computer. I load the dishwasher, get it started, and try to get back my train of thought.) 

Grandmother: “Good. Don’t you feel good contributing to the house instead of being shut up in your room on that computer all day? And you can’t get behind in your lessons, either! Your parents aren’t paying for your schooling just so you can play games on that computer.” 

Me: “First of all, Gramma: my parents aren’t paying for anything. I have a full scholarship that pays for my school. Second: my major is computer science. That implies that I will be on a computer to do my assignments. In fact, when you interrupted me, I was writing a program for a class assignment that’s due next week. And I’d like to get back to it, if you don’t mind.” 

(I start putting a sign on my door when I am studying, asking to be left alone. I even try to post a study schedule as a compromise. But my grandmother loudly states every time she sees the sign:)

Grandmother: “Well, [My Name] is studying, I guess! Too bad her family’s out here. I’m sure they’d like her to join them, but I guess that computer’s too important! That scholarship is more important than having a meal with her family! But I shouldn’t interrupt her studying when I know she’s on that computer, anyway!”

(I didn’t neglect housework. I always had at least one night class, so it was easier to stay on campus and get dinner there. And I paid for almost everything out of my scholarship or tutoring jobs. Grandma just didn’t understand “computers,” so she automatically thought they were useless. She even said that “computers” weren’t a valid career path and offered to pay for “secretary school,” instead. For a family that insisted I go to college, it suddenly stopped being important when I actually got there.)

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