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(My friend and I are just about to get out of a cab at 4 am when two girls approach the driver.)
Girl: “I forgot something in the last cab.”
Driver: “Which cab?”
Girl: “I don’t know.”
Driver: “Do you know which cab company?”
Girl: “No.”
Driver: “There are lots of companies.”
Girl: “Some old guy.”
Driver: “There are lots of old guys…”
Did you find this story using our Taxi Diver roundup?
(For Christmas, the bakery I work at makes elaborate gingerbread houses, complete with some reindeer, Santa, and a few trees. Understandably, the whole thing is rather fragile, and pricey, and we wrap them carefully and display them on top of the pastry case with signs requesting that customers seek help before handling them. A customer walks in and wanders up to the display case and starts to examine the gingerbread houses. As Christmas is busy, my coworkers and I are not paying attention, she ends up breaking the reindeer and some trees in one of the gingerbread houses when she handled it.)
Customer: “Excuse me!”
(There’s a line of ten people in front of her, so we politely but quickly ask her to step in line. She shakes the very fragile gingerbread house at us.)
Customer: “Excuse me! I want to buy a gingerbread house! This one is broken!”
(As the most senior front end employee, I end up walking to the front and helping her.)
Me: “I’m terribly sorry. We have others.”
(I start to reach for an intact one, but she shakes the one she’s holding, breaking it further.)
Customer: “No! Those ones are probably just as stale as this one. That’s why it broke! You shouldn’t be selling your customers such cheap product.”
Me: “No, ma’am, it broke because you’ve been shaking it. I can assure you that they were all put together yesterday.”
Customer: “Real gingerbread doesn’t break like that! I want to speak to your manager!”
Me: “I’m the worker in charge tonight, ma’am, and I can assure you that, when shaken, gingerbread breaks like most other pastries.”
(She fumes and reached for another one. I quickly intercept and, after a few bitter words, she allows me to take down the gingerbread house she wants. Before letting her touch it, though, I turned it carefully so she could see that it was all intact. I then ring her in, charging double, which she was quick to jump on.)
Customer: “What? They’re $45 dollars! I will not pay $100 for a gingerbread house!”
Me: “No, ma’am, the broken ones are $45. Some people prefer them in bite size pieces. The intact ones take much longer to prepare, so we have to charge extra.”
Customer: “This f***ing store is a godd*** disgrace! Owned by an Arab!” she’s referring to the head pastry chef who is Filipino* “-and a f***ing c****!” *referring to me, as I’m half-Chinese*
(She throws a $100 bill on the counter and storms off, almost knocking an elderly man to the ground when she opens the door to leave. I ended up using the extra $50 to buy the other customers hot drinks, and passed out the broken gingerbread to accompany the beverages. Needless to say, we got some pretty amazing tips that night. The customer came back to complain later when the owners were around, but the head chef’s husband gave her a proper telling off when he heard her refer to his wife as an Arab.)
(I am bartending at a neighborhood dive that caters mostly to a set of regulars who were minimum wage or blue collar workers, but occasionally some of the kids from an expensive nearby university would wander in. I am talking to a female regular at the bar who happens to be seated next to a young guy from the college.)
Me: “Hey, did you check out that show I told you about?”
Regular: “Yeah, thanks, it was really funny!”
(We are discussing episodes, when a college kid joins in.)
College Guy: “Hey, I love that show! What season are you up to?”
(For a few minutes, we all engage in friendly conversation until, suddenly, a spoiled and VERY intoxicated college girl in a miniskirt and six-inch heels proceeds to shove my female regular in the back.)
College Girl: “Hey, b****!”
Regular: *calmly turns on her barstool to look at the girl*
College Girl: “Quit talking to my boyfriend, you stupid w****!”
Regular: “Miss, we were just having a polite conversation.”
College Girl: “You think you can steal my boyfriend, you ugly b****?” *she shoves the regular’s shoulder for emphasis* “Stupid f***ing s***! You wanna try and steal my boyfriend?”
Regular: “Miss, I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood. I have a boyfriend of my own.” *untucks a set of dog-tags from her shirt as proof* “I wasn’t hitting on your boyfriend; we were just having a nice chat. Please calm down.”
College Girl: “You think you can just hit on my boyfriend, you f***ing s***? F*** you, you fat ugly b****!”
(She shoves the regular again, and by now I am furiously trying to flag down the bouncer. The bar has gone quiet, and the girls’ friends have nervously gathered behind her to watch the spectacle.)
Regular: “Miss, please do not touch me again.”
College Girl: “You wanna start something, b****? You wanna start something with me? Come on, you stupid w****!”
(Another shove, and this time the regular stands from her stool.)
Regular: “Miss, I’ve asked you nicely, but now I’m telling you. Do. Not. Touch. Me. Again.”
College Girl: “Let’s go, w****! I’ll f*** you up!”
(Mid-sentence, she tries to shove my regular again, but this time the regular catches the college girl’s arm and delivers a powerful right cross to her face, knocking her out cold. The regular watches the drunk college girl drop to the floor like a sack of potatoes, then sits back down on her barstool and turns back to the bar. The college girl’s friends proceed to pick the woozy girl up off the ground in time for bouncer to escort them all to the parking lot.)
Regular: *to the bouncer* “Me, too?”
Bouncer: “H***, no! I saw the whole thing, girl! You sit your a** back on that stool and order a beer on me.”
(The regular and I exchange smiles as I pull her usual up from the cooler. It’s at this point that we both notice that the college guy who was the cause of the whole mess looking at the regular with his jaw on the floor.)
Regular: “Hey, man, sorry about your girlfriend, but I did warn her.”
College Guy: “Okay, let me stop you right there. That was not my girlfriend. I had never even met that girl before tonight. I have no idea what the h*** she was talking about. And that was one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. So the bouncer can get the next round, but that one’s on me.”
(One of the girl’s friends ended up coming back in and apologizing for her pal’s erratic behavior, and offered to buy a round for my regular, too. After that night, every regular in the place usually bought one for ‘One-Punch’ whenever she came in, until she moved away to marry her soldier boyfriend!)
(My boyfriend and I are on our holidays and watching the musical Tarzan – which takes place in the African jungles. The first half is already over and it’s break-time.)
Boyfriend: “When will the elephants come?”
Me: “Elephants? There are no elephants in Tarzan.”
Boyfriend: “There are! They’re in the movie!”
Me: “Are you talking about The Jungle Book?”
Boyfriend: “…possible.”
Me: *laughing* “We’ve watched the whole first half and you’ve been wondering where the elephants are?”
Boyfriend: “So what? Both play in the jungle! It’s all the same.”
Me: “Babe, Tarzan takes place in Africa, The Jungle Book in India.”
Boyfriend: “See! Same continent!”
Me: *cracking up even harder* “No. Asia and Africa are not the same continent. You’re so cute.”
Boyfriend: “I’m not cute.”
Me: “You are. I love you.”
Boyfriend: “Shut up.”
This story is part of the Elephant roundup!
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Read the Elephant roundup!
(My boyfriend has just proposed, and he is driving us home. We have given up a lot of things for each other, including moving to a different hemisphere and being partially disowned. We’re also huge math geeks. I have been running my fingers over the ring over and over. I notice that there is something engraved on the inside of the ring: 3.1415926535897.)
Me: “Babe, why does this ring have Pi engraved on it?”
Fiancé: “I was waiting for you to ask. I asked for that because our love is like Pi – spontaneous, somewhat irrational, and never-ending.”
(My eyes water a little.)
Me: “That is the sweetest, most nerdy thing anyone’s ever done.”
