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A Birthday Surprise

| Provo, UT, USA | Right | October 30, 2013

(I am serving a young couple, and it is the woman’s 29th birthday. One of our hosts, a large Polynesian man, loves to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to people by himself.)

Me: “Would you like a group of us to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you, or do you want that guy to sing to you?”

Customer: “It’s okay; I’d rather not have anyone sing to me. By the way, has that table paid for their meal yet?”

(The customer points at a table nearby, where a couple with their two young children are seated.)

Me: “No, they haven’t.”

Customer: “Okay, give this to them. Don’t tell them it’s from me.”

(The customer hands me a $100 bill.)

Me: “Wow, really? That’s really generous of you, and on your birthday!”

Woman: “Yeah, I like to do something nice for someone on my birthday as a way to give back to the universe for all the crap I’ve done.”

(We ended up giving her and her boyfriend free dessert. Her incredible generosity inspired me to try to do something like that on my birthday from now on. Sometimes humans are okay!)

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Beer After Work…

| Right | October 30, 2013


Go To A Bar

| Right | October 30, 2013


They Are Rotten To The Corps, Part 2

| OH, USA | Working | October 30, 2013

(My fiancé and I attend college in Florida. I’ve spent most of the past three years outside, and have tanned despite frequent applications of sunscreen. We’re driving to see my parents for their 35th anniversary, and stop to get food.)

Cashier: “We don’t serve immigrants here!”

(My fiancé is from Scotland, but hasn’t said anything. He turns to leave and is holding the door for me.)

Cashier: “Sir! You don’t have to leave; just that illegal chica.”

Fiancé: “First, I’m the immigrant. Second, my ‘chica’s’ shirt says ‘You Don’t Scare Me. My Dad’s A United States Marine.’ It’s pretty obvious she’s a citizen. Third, my money isn’t going to your paycheck.”

Cashier: “No citizen is THAT dark!”

Me: *snort* “Then why are you here?”

(Another customer has come up and bursts out laughing.)

Cashier: “What do you idiots find so funny?”

(The other customer approaches and points at the cashier’s skin.)

Other Customer: “Your tan is darker than hers!”

(The other customer then turns to me.)

Other Customer: “Is your dad a Marine?”

Me: “Yes, sir! He’s [rank and unit]. Yours, sir?”

(The other customer gives his rank, and turns to my fiancé.)

Other Customer: “You treat that young lady right.”

They Are Rotten To The Corps

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Doesn’t Take Military Intelligence To Understand

| USA | Working | October 30, 2013

(My husband is in the army, and we have to break our lease because he has received orders for overseas. When we move out of our apartment, we are told it is in fantastic condition, and we shouldn’t owe them any money. A few months later, we receive a bill from them, stating that we owe them nearly $1000, because they had to paint the walls, replace the carpets, and replace the blinds. After months of fighting with them, and them constantly changing what the charges are for, it goes into collections. I receive a phone call from them while we are overseas.)

Bill Collector: “Hello, I need to speak to Mr. [Name].”

Me: “This is his wife; he’s not available. May I ask what this is regarding?”

Bill Collector: “Yes, [apartment complex] has stated that since you broke your lease, you have to pay this amount.”

Me: “It says it was because of a broken lease? That’s not what my original paperwork says.”

Bill Collector: “Yes, my records state that you and your husband still had nearly a year left on your lease and you broke it.”

Me: “Yes, we broke our lease, because my husband received orders for overseas.”

Bill Collector: “So you admit you broke your lease. That means you owe this amount.”

Me: “No, ma’am, there’s a clause for military. They received a copy of our orders prior to us leaving; therefore if your records state that we owe them because we broke our lease, then we owe nothing.”

Bill Collector: “If you broke your lease, you have to pay.”

Me: “No, we don’t. Military clause.”

Bill Collector: “Well, the orders weren’t for you; they were just for your husband, weren’t they?”

Me: “No, my name was on them too.”

Bill Collector: *sarcastically* “But you didn’t have to go. Only he had to go. You could have stayed in the apartment until the lease was up.”

Me: “Are you kidding me? You’re not getting a dime from us. Don’t bother calling here again.”

(I hung up on her. Eventually, I spoke to someone different at the collection agency, explained the situation, and they dropped the charges completely, without it affecting our credit.)

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