Right Working Romantic Related Learning Friendly Healthy Legal Inspirational Unfiltered

All of our stories, starting with the newest!

This Customer’s Twin Brain Cells Are Struggling

, , , , , | Right | December 4, 2022

My best friend and I are shopping at a mall, and just for fun, we have decided to dress alike. We are both wearing black and purple Tripp pants and black tops.

We stop at an alternative clothing store for a bit and start browsing the back wall. Someone says, “Excuse me,” loudly, and [Friend] assumes they want the shirts he is currently standing in front of, so he moves to the side a bit. 

This is followed up by a louder, “Excuse me!” so he turns to see which section they’re trying to get to so that he can get out of their way.

Friend: “Am I blocking the shirts, or did you want these tops over here?”

Customer: “I need you to unlock the fitting area for me.”

[Friend] realizes what’s happening.

Friend: “Oh, sorry, I don’t work here. I think I saw an employee over by the anime stuff, though.”

Customer: “Are you sure you don’t work here?”

Friend: “Yes.”

Customer: “Because your coworker over there is wearing the exact same uniform as you.”

Friend: “Oh, she’s my bestie. We decided to match today because it makes people think we’re twins.”

Customer: “You’re a guy; she’s a girl.”

Friend: “Yeah, but people see the matching outfits and assume we are.”

Customer: “You’ve told this lie before, haven’t you?”

Friend: “It’s not a lie. We’re not employees here. Please leave us alone.”

The customer actually leaves, and we assume that’s the end of it. Unfortunately, it is not.

About ten minutes later, the customer comes over with an employee in tow and points us both out.

Customer: “Them. They told me some bulls*** story about them being twins.”

Employee: “Uhh, they aren’t employees here. I think they’re matching because they really are twins.”

Customer: “They can’t be twins. They’re not both boys or girls.”

I have a mental “WTF” moment.

Employee: “I can’t do anything if people want to dress alike in our stores. I’d be happy to help you find what you’re looking for today.”

Finally, the employee is able to corral the customer away from us.

Friend: “Twins now have to be the same sex?”

Me: “Dude, I told you the public school system here sucks. But hey, next time, you could cross-dress.”

Their Grandfather Would Be Ashamed

, , , , , | Legal | CREDIT: Fakress | December 4, 2022

I’m very young and have just started my career as a pharmacist.

Two sixteen-year-olds come into the pharmacy to pick up [painkiller] for their grandfather. They give me all the numbers, even their own birthdates, etc. When the script comes up on my screen, it says, “DECEASED,” in big bold letters.

I just start laughing.

Me: “But he’s dead?!”

And suddenly, they were in a hurry to leave. Should have called the cops, I guess.

The Travel Disaster That Wasn’t

, , , , , , , , , , , | Right | December 4, 2022

Work has sent me off to Chicago to conduct a training. I have arrived at the airport in San Diego, but the plane is delayed. It happens, but I’m now worried about my connection since the flight is not direct.

While we’re waiting, there is a small earthquake. Is this going to affect my flight? Yes and no. It is large enough to be felt but small enough that they’re just taking the reports of all the staff that there is no damage at face value and continuing. But my flight is still delayed. What was supposed to have been a 9:00 am flight is now well after noon, but it still hasn’t been canceled.

The flight finally comes, but I have clearly missed my connection, and by the time they get me onto a new plane for Chicago and I get into O’Hare, it’s about midnight. The rental car agency has closed, and I need to get to northern Chicago, about thirty miles away. My hotel is also up there.

My first decision is to find a room where I am, get my rental car in the morning, and hightail it up to my location to hopefully get there in time. However, the cost of the hotel by the airport is outrageous, so I make some more phone calls and find a long-haul taxi service to get me to my hotel. I have called to let them know that I am here but I’m stuck at the airport.

Fortunately for me, the training is taking place at a location right across the street from the hotel, so I don’t need transportation if I can just get to the hotel. They understand and say that they’ll be waiting for me and will have all the paperwork set up so that all I’ll need to do when I get there is sign on the line and I can go straight to bed.

The taxi driver is very sympathetic to my plight.

Taxi Driver: “How are you going to get back to the airport?”

Me: “I’ll either have someone at the training give me a ride back or find another taxi service to get me back.”

Taxi Driver: “No, no, I’ll have none of that. When is your flight out, and when do you expect to be done with training?”

I tell him, and I point out that the timing is such that I’ll pretty much need to leave immediately after the training in order to have enough time to get to the airport and through security to make my flight.

Taxi Driver: “I’ll make sure that I’m available at that time.”

He gives me his business card.

Taxi Driver: “Call me an hour before you think you’ll be done so I can be there to collect you.”

The next day went off pretty much just fine. I did my training, I called the driver, and he came to get me, driving a bit quickly (but not recklessly) in order to get me to the airport on time.

To that taxi driver, thank you so much for this. I’m sure that part of it was that you’d have a good fare, but it was still exactly what I needed given the predicament that I was in.

And by the way: when I got to the hotel, the paperwork was right there, I signed, and they directed me to the room that was right there on the first floor by the front desk: room 101.

It was actually a very nice room.

Tales From The Q-Continuum

, , , , , | Right | December 4, 2022

I’m buying a sandwich at Quizno’s. The name is important because this evening, and for the last few evenings, the neon sign outside has been broken and only the Q in the name is visible at night.

I’m paying for my sandwich when I see a customer approach the manager.

Customer: “Saw the sign. Glad there’s more of us out here now.”

Manager: *Big sigh* “Sir, like I have told everyone else, the sign is simply broken. We are not associated with QAnon or any other conspiracy within the government. We sell sandwiches, soups, occasionally cookies, and that is all.”

Customer: “Ah.” *Winks* “Gotcha. So, what would you… recommend?”

Manager: “There are no hidden messages in the sandwiches!”

Customer: “So… the soup, then. Gotcha. I’ll take a [Soup].”

Manager: *Even bigger sigh* “Fine. That’ll be [total].”

The customer gets his soup and leaves satisfied. I haven’t left as I’ve been transfixed during the whole conversation. I make eye contact with the manager.

Manager: “That’s the third one today!”

Me: “Seriously?”

Manager: “I have half a mind to go outside and break the last letter on the sign to stop these nutjobs coming in here.”

Me: “But they’re buying stuff. Gotta be good for sales?”

Manager: “Not worth it. Especially when they come back upset and demanding a refund because proof that the government is run by lizard people isn’t found wedged between their lettuce and cheese.”

Me: “…fair point.”

I came back later, and the neon sign was still broken but simply said, “no”. Not sure if this was a genuine fault or the manager making a stand.

If You Can’t Convince ‘Em, Confuse ‘Em!

, , , , , | Working | December 4, 2022

While I’m staying with my uncle and his family for a few days, the house phone rings and he asks me to answer it because I’m closest.

Telemarketer: “Hello, can I please speak to Mr. [Last Name]?”

Me: “Which one?”

Telemarketer: “Mr. [Last Name].”

Me: “You said that — which one? The son or the father?”

Telemarketer: “I don’t have time for this. The adult Mr. [Last Name].”

Me: “Which one?”

Telemarketer: “Mr. [Last Name]! The owner of this address.”

Me: “Yeah, but they’re married; they’re both Mr. [Last Name].”

Telemarketer: “Just give me the homeowner!”

Me: “Oh, in that case, no one; we’re renting.”

Telemarketer: *Click*

Cousin: “Wait, Dad didn’t take Pop’s last name.”

Me: “Huh, you’re right. I guess Uncle Glenn is the only Mr. [Last Name] here after all.”