Don’t Want To Be In This Club Anymore

, , , , , , | Friendly | June 21, 2018

(I have volunteered at a kids’ carnival in my town for the last 15 years, since I was a kid myself. I have never had issues and I am always hard-working, despite a lack of people helping each and every year. It runs about four hours long, but it makes me happy to just help out. I am running the putt-putt golf game; basically, you shoot the ball into the hole from two feet away. Kids of any age can play. I am supplied the clubs and foam balls. This lady comes up and gives me her ticket and her kid plays. He doesn’t make it in, but I give him a prize, anyway. The mom is livid and she rips the club out of the kid’s hand.)

Kid’s Mom: “What the f***?! Are you trying to kill my kid here with these iron clubs?!”

Me: “Ma’am, it’s plastic, and please stop yelling.”

Kid’s Mom: “F*** you! You’re trying to kill my kid!”

(She starts yelling and swinging the club, brushing my arm.)

Kid’s Mom: “I’m calling my husband to bring new clubs here!”

(And like that, she takes the clubs from the game and storms off. I have to go explain to the event chief what she has done and that I cant run the game. If that wasn’t bad enough, a police officer comes up to me:)

Officer: “Are you the one running the golf game?”

(When I say yes, he puts me in handcuffs!)

Officer: “You’re being arrested for endangering a child, and groping a child and their mother.”

Me: *livid* “I have witnesses!”

Officer: “It’s your word versus hers.”

(She was distraught and crying right then to the officer’s partner. Thank God there were cameras in the school and it recorded everything to show I was right. The police said she was not going to be punished for this; that it was just an honest mistake. Since this happened, the school does not want me back, just in case, because of this woman and her complaint… all because she didn’t like the clubs I was supplied. Furthermore, I got charged for those clubs, since they did not get returned.)

You’ll End Up Served With Fava Beans And A Nice Bottle Of Chianti

, , , , , , | Friendly | June 21, 2018

(My husband and I are hosting a get-together of his friends and mine in our new apartment. He is introducing me to a friend of his who is a huge book nerd.)

My Husband: “I think you’ll like [My Name]; she’s a bibliophile, too! She just started reading Hannibal.

Friend: “Ugh, I hated that book. Doesn’t it seem so forced that Clarice runs off with Hannibal in the end?”

Me: “…”

My Husband: “What part of ‘just started reading’ did you not get?”

Friend: “But… but it came out years ago! There was a movie!”



Me: “This book is useless to me now. You should just eat it. EAT THE BOOK, SPOILER DEMON!”

Friend: “I’m sorry! My book nerd hatred for a bad plot overcame my book nerd hatred for spoilers!”

Acting Like The First Three Letters From “Assume”

, , , , , | Friendly | June 20, 2018

(I’m walking my dog in the park, when I get hit in the back of my head. I turn around.)

Woman: “NEVER ASSUME, YOU BI— Oh, wrong person.”

(She then trots away like nothing happened. I am standing there in shock of the spontaneous attack.)

Me: “Did she just assume I was someone else, and then yell at me for assuming?”

Roommate Berate

, , , , , , | Friendly | June 20, 2018

(My college roommate and I are randomly assigned, so we don’t know each other at all. One week into the semester, some of her friends stop by to pick her up for a party.)

Roommate: “I’ve got the brownies ready. Did you get the booze?”

Friend: “No, and our IDs got confiscated, so we can’t get any more.”

(Suddenly, all of them turn to look at me with a glint in their eyes.)

Me: “I’m going to stop you right there. One, I’m 20. Two, buying for a minor is illegal and punishable by a fine of ten grand and up to five years in prison, and I don’t like you that much.”

Roommate: “Fair enough.”

Haven’t Slept For Nine Lives

, , , , | Friendly | June 20, 2018

(It’s 5:30 am, and I’m just about to leave to go to work after having a rough morning. I’m a nurse with a 12-hour shift to look forward to. As I’m getting my shoes on, my roommate emerges from her room, chipper and perky.)

Roommate: “Good morning, [My Name]!”

Me: *groaning* “Well, it’s morning, at least.”

Roommate: *suddenly angry* “Well, jeez, who peed in your cornflakes this morning? I was trying to be nice!”

Me: “I told you last night that I had to be up at four am this morning, and the friends you invited over made so much noise that it woke me up… and they stayed until 12:30. I took two steps out of my room this morning, and your cat sank her claws into my leg, deep enough to draw blood, and started yowling because she thought I was going to feed her. I finally got to the bathroom and found that your other cat had clawed my brand-new towels down from the rack and taken a dump on them. Now I get to go spend 12 hours wiping the butts of people who either think I’m attacking them, or think I’m their long-dead wife. That’s why it’s ‘morning’ and not ‘good morning.’”

Roommate: “Well, there’s no need to be a b**** about It!”

(I’d been thinking about moving out for a while, but that was the final nail in the coffin. I moved in with my boyfriend just as soon as I could get my stuff packed, and eighteen months later, we still get along just fine. We have a dog; after my roommate’s little monsters, I have no desire at all to get a cat. Last I heard, she still had trouble with them pooping on her bed and linens.)

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