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The Not So Great Gatsby

| Redmond, WA, USA | Right | October 16, 2012

(A man sporting a heavy metal t-shirt, torn jeans, facial piercings and green hair approaches my register. As he gets closer I notice he’s cradling a small cat in his arms.)

Man: “Hey… umm… this is probably going to sound kind of weird but I was just in the parking lot and—”

(He’s promptly cut off by a shrill scream. We both turn to see a horrified lady charging towards us like a rabid rhino.)

Lady: “What the h*** are you doing?!”

Man: “Oh, there you are! Listen—”

Lady: “Get your filthy meat hooks off my Gatsby! You monster! Let him go!”

(She violently starts trying to beat the man with her purse. Braving the blows, the man hands the cat over to her.)

Lady: “Oh, my poor Gatsby! Did the horrible man hurt you? Oh, don’t you worry, I’ll make him pay!” *glaring at me* “You! Call the police right now! And you!” *turns to the punk* “Don’t move! I’m going to see you in jail for trying to kidnap my Gatsby!”

Man: “Really? Well before you do that ma’am I should warn you that I intend to report you to the SPCA for endangering the life of your pet.”

Lady: “What?”

Man: “You left your car window rolled all the way down, and dear Gatsby there climbed out after you went in. I very nearly hit him as he ran out into the parking lot so I thought it only right that I bring him in where he wouldn’t be at risk of getting lost, run over, or kidnapped. Are you saying I should’ve just left him out there where anything could’ve happened, and you thus would most likely have had to go home minus your darling pet?”

(The lady turns red, drops her shopping, and promptly runs out of the store with her cat.)

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Via.

Longing For When Thongs Weren’t Wrong

| Pensacola, FL, USA | Working | October 16, 2012

(I’m at a beach supply store shopping with my grandpa and little brother.)

My Grandpa: “Excuse me, young man, could you by chance point me to the children’s thongs, please?”

Cashier: *horrified* “W-WE DONT SELL THOSE HERE!”

My Grandpa: “Really? Well, that’s quite odd. It’s usually fairly easy to find them in stores. See, I need some for my grandson.” *motions to my little brother*

My Brother: “Yeah, grandpa broke my last pair yesterday putting ’em on me, so—”

Cashier: “YOU TWO ARE SICK!” *runs away, while pointing back at them yelling*

My Grandpa: “What the f*** just happened?!”

Technology Leads To Periods Of Confusion

| West Virginia, USA | Working | October 16, 2012

(I call my doctor’s office about getting some paperwork.)

Receptionist: “Yes, we can get the papers for you. When will you be in to pick them up?”

Me: “Could you just scan them and email them to me? That would be easier.”

Receptionist: “Sure, what’s your email address?”

Me: “It’s [my first name] dot [my last name] at yahoo dot com.”

Receptionist: “Okay, I’ll send those right away…”

(About 24 hours pass and no email. I call back the next day and get the same receptionist.)

Me: “Hi, my name is [name]. I called yesterday about getting some paperwork emailed to me, but I haven’t gotten it yet.”

Receptionist: “Hmm, that’s odd. I sent it yesterday.”

Me: “Just to double check, you have my email address as [first name] period [last name] at yahoo dot com, right?”

Receptionist: “Oh, you said [first name] DOT [last name], so I was writing the word ‘dot!'”

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