Not Quite Married To This Friendship

, , , , | Friendly | March 21, 2018

(A new friend is telling me how she met her husband:)

Friend: “We worked at the same place. I was new, and as soon as I saw him I knew I had to be with him, so I went after him as best as I could. I flirted with him all the time, and kissed him at the Christmas party.”

(At the time, he was married, as was she. After they got married, her husband’s ex-wife tried to be on friendly terms to her for the sake of her children.)

Friend: “Why would I want to be friends with that woman? When we first moved in together, she had the hide to blame me for ruining her marriage, and that’s something I will never forgive her for. She’s such a b****.”

Poke The Dog And Wake Up The Pitbull

, , , , , , | Friendly | March 20, 2018

(I am attending an annual street festival. It is dog-friendly, so I have brought my dog along. My dog is a Boston Terrier, a type of dog that has bulbous eyes. I’m sitting on the curb finishing a hot dog when I notice that a child near me has started to try to poke my dog in the face with a stick.)

Me: “Hey, sweetie, don’t do that. You could really hurt my dog.”

(The kid says nothing and gives me a funny look, but puts the stick down and turns away from me and my dog, so I think it’s over. About a minute later, the little jerk picks the stick back up and jabs my dog right in the forehead.)

Me: “Hey, kid! Stop doing that to my dog!”

(The kid looks me right in the eyes and then positions the stick to jab my dog again. I grab the stick and wrestle it away from the kid. The kid’s inattentive mother runs over from the other side of the street.)

Mother: *yelling* “What are you doing!?”

(For a few seconds, I think she is yelling at her kid. She, however, stomps right in front of me and continues yelling.)

Mother: “Don’t you dare tell my child what to do! You have no right to tell my child anything! You stay away from my kid!”

Me: *trying to stay calm* “Your child could have seriously hurt my dog. I was just—”

Mother: *cuts me off and keeps screaming* “Then you come get me!”

(I am seriously at the end of my rope now, and we have already gained an audience, so I decide that going to this woman’s level is the only way to solve this.)

Me: *yelling as loud as I can* “SHUT UP!”

(The woman surprisingly does, and recoils slightly.)

Me: *still yelling* “How the f*** am I supposed to go get you when you are all the way on the other side of the street, doing God knows what, when your stinking brat is trying to hurt my dog?! How the f*** am I supposed to know who his mother is? You think I’m going to just sit here and wait for you to show up and learn how to be a parent? Also, if you can’t even pay attention enough to make sure your kid isn’t poking animals in the eye with sticks, are you going to even notice if someone tries to kidnap him? Why don’t you watch your f****** kid, and do the world a favour and don’t procreate again?!”

Inattentive Mother: *spluttering* “Don’t you swear in front of my child. I’ll go get one of the police officers and—”

Me: “You think they haven’t heard us yet, lady? Look! They’re already watching! I’m done for the day, so I don’t care if they kick me out. How do you think they’re going to react to the fact that your kid is trying to injure animals? I have witnesses!”

(The mother’s face had gone bright red by then. She grabbed her kid and started to drag him away. The kid then started screaming that he “wanted to play with the doggy.” I just got up, threw away my hot dog wrapper, and walked my dog home.)

A Black Mark On Their Account

, , , , | Friendly | March 19, 2018

(I am in a voice call with my friend, who lives in the USA, for a game. She asks if it’s okay for a third person to join us, and I don’t mind. We’re chatting for a bit.)

New Person: “You’re not American, are you?”

Me: “Nope, I’m in the UK.”

New Person: “What… are you?”

Me: *confused* “Er… Human? I think”

New Person: “As in… English?”

Me: “Oh! I’m half Scottish, half Irish. I live in England, though.”

New Person: “Oh, okay.”

(I don’t think much of it. I’m more surprised an American actually asked that as most — including my friend when I first met her — lump them all together. Some time passes, during which she makes some odd statements regarding black people. I go to get a sandwich and find out that, due to the snow, Mum has had to get white bread. I don’t really like white bread that much.)

Me: *coming back to call, being overly dramatic* “Woe is me!”

Friend: “What is it?”

Me: “Due to the godd*** snow, [Supermarket] couldn’t stock up on bread. Mum could only get—” *dramatic pause* “—WHITE BREAD! DUNDUNDUUUUUUUN!”

Friend: “Gasp! Oh, no! How terrible!”

New Person: “What do you normally get?”

Me: “Brown. I prefer whole grain, but Mum can’t have it because of her teeth.”

New Person: *audible gasp* “But only black people like brown bread!”

Me: *thinking she’s joking* “Who says I’m not black?”

(She drops the call immediately. There is a pause.)

Me: “I’m not sorry.”

Friend: *laughing* “You don’t need to be!”

(The new person blocked me, and my friend got messages from the person asking how she could play with a [racial slur]. She reported the person for racism, and as far as we know the girl got banned. For the record, I am not black; I said the comment because I presumed she was joining in with my silliness. It’s good riddance, in my opinion.)

A Hot Slice Of Injustice

, , , | Friendly | March 18, 2018

(My friend has invited me to an anime convention, partly for fun, and partly to make friends with their friends. I’ll admit that I’m a very socially anxious person, but friends of my friend must be good people, right? At lunch time, I notice that the pizza slices are all under $2. We’re five people, and $10 to $20 would be easy with my budget, so I offer to pay for the pizza. Everyone gets two slices. My friend’s friends all walk past the ice cream fridge, where they are selling these tiny tubs of ice cream for $4 each. They all get one and say:)

Them: “You’re paying, right?”

Me: “Um, for the pizza…”

Them: “Great!”

(They told the cashier I was paying for all of it. I don’t hang out with those people anymore.)

No One Insults Quite Like The French, Part 2

, , , , , | Friendly | March 17, 2018

(I am a Canadian on a tour of a plantation house in Louisiana. There is a man on the tour who keeps interrupting the guide with questions that are actually designed to show off his knowledge. The guide just gets a rousing story going and the man cuts him off, ruining the pace and throwing off the guide. Four rooms in, and this interrupter will not stop. Even his wife is uncomfortable with his actions.)

Guide: *low, under his breath, in French* “Oh, my God. Shut up.”

(I gasp, and he looks at me with an expression that says he’s even more shocked than I am.)

Guide: “Oh. Oh! You’re Canadian!’

(He knows this because he asked where everyone was from at the beginning of the tour.)

Me: *in French* “Don’t worry. It’s fine.”

(No one else knew what was going on for this tiny exchange, so we continued — the interrupter still showing off as best he could — but there was some French thrown in for me after some of the halting stories were done.)

No One Insults Quite Like The French

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