See If They Ever Come Again

, , , , , , , | Friendly | April 3, 2020

We were catching up with some friends for a chat. Being a gracious host, I offered them a drink. She wanted coffee and he wanted tea.

While the teabag was steeping in the cup, I asked, “Are you a two-, three- or four-minute man?”

I’ve no idea why his wife was laughing so hard.

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And Then He Vowed To Never Help Anyone Again

, , , , , , | Friendly | April 2, 2020

I’m in my socially-awkward early twenties and I’m visiting a small local theater to see a movie. Before the movie starts, I go to use the restroom. As I’m washing my hands, a young boy around seven comes up to the sink next to me and starts hopping while grabbing at the sink handle. Thinking he can’t reach, I turn it on for him

Kid: “No, not that. I’m trying to reach those.”

He points at the liquid soap dispensers above the sink. I squirt a large amount onto the palm of my hand and lower it to him.

Me: “Here.”

Kid: “Thanks!”

He scoops soap out my hand. I wash off my hands, turn off the water for him, and leave to go see my movie. Later, as everyone is leaving the theater:

Kid: “Hey! Thanks for before!”

I turn to see the kid waving at me with one hand while holding onto a woman with the other. The kid tugs on his mom’s hand and points at me. 

Kid: “Mom, that guy was cool. He helped me use the restroom earlier.”

My eyes went wide as I realized how bad that could sound out of context. I made eye contact with the mom who was looking at me with concern. I wordlessly spun on my heel and started speed-walking to my car. I really hope that kid explained the story better.

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At Least His Sense Of Humor Isn’t Dead, Too

, , , , , , | Friendly | April 1, 2020

We had a relatively new phone number, and once every few weeks, we’d get a call from someone speaking Spanish. My Spanish is “muy malo” (very bad), but I could tell he was looking for José. I’d ask, “Habla Inglés?” but he obviously did not, so I’d hang up.  

Every few weeks, he’d call back looking for José. I suspected we had José’s old phone number and it was on this guy’s speed dial, but he never got around to changing it.

Again, he called, asking for José. In desperation, I faked a cry and said, “José es muerto! José es muerto!”

He let out a loud belly laugh and hung up, and we never heard from him again. I assume this prompted him to update his speed dial.

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What A Pain In The Buns

, , , , , , | Friendly | March 31, 2020

Last night, at the local grocery, I accidentally grabbed the wrong hamburger buns. I waited roughly three feet from a self-check machine to clear an exchange with the attendant.

The woman checking out on that machine looked back at me a few times. When she finished, she deliberately took a huge step backward, coming very close to my cart. She shot me a disgusted look, grabbed her kids, and snottily said, “Come on! Some people are too close!”

I was briefly stunned, but I’m not the kind of person who lets things like that go. If she wants to publicly shame, she will be publicly shamed. I raised my voice so she would hear, “You can’t step into someone three feet away and then complain they’re too close.”

The couple at the next scanner said, “What?” So, I explained what she had done. They rolled their eyes and loudly said, “Some people!”

The offender left hurriedly, very red-faced.

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Handy With Handedness

, , , , , | Friendly | March 30, 2020

(I am eating lunch at my college when a couple of young men sit down at the table nearest me with some snacks of their own. They are close enough that I can hear them talking, and although I don’t speak it, I recognize the language they are speaking is Vietnamese.

It’s also necessary to note that I have Asperger’s Syndrome and one of my peculiarities is noticing and remembering someone’s handedness. It is kind of like noticing someone’s hair color; if you use your hands in a way that demonstrates your laterality, I can’t NOT note your dominant hand, I just do.

So, I can’t help but notice that one of the men nearby is left-handed by the way he eats. They finish quickly and get up to leave, but I notice that the left-handed man has taken his backpack, but neglected to pick up a smaller bag by his chair.)

Me: “Excuse me… Excuse me, sir? Sir?

(The two are too engaged in their conversation to realize I’m talking to them and are quickly walking to the door to the building. Out of desperation to get his attention, I blurt out the first thing I can think of.)

Me: “Uh… Left-handed Vietnamese guy!”

(The two men stop and slowly turn to look at me with bewildered expressions.)

Me: *awkwardly* “Um… y-you left your bag behind.” *points to the sack by the chair*

(The young man looked surprised when he saw it there, jogged over to pick it up, and thanked me, and they left.)

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