The Greatest Deal In American History

| Delaware County, PA, USA | Right | August 29, 2013

(A car dealership just outside of Philadelphia is running an oil change special for $17.76. I overhear the following conversation at a convenience store.)

Customer #1: “[Car dealership] doesn’t make sense. $17.76 for an oil change. Don’t specials always have 99 cents in the end?”

Customer #2: “I know, it’s confusing! Probably just some number they pulled out of their a**!”

Clerk: “The Declaration of Independence was signed in 1776. Here. In Philadelphia!”

Customers #1 & #2: *blank stares*

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Putting The Day Into A High Note

, | OR, USA | Right | August 29, 2013

(I am working the drive-thru at a fast food restaurant, and we have been having a rough night. It has been non-stop busy, and several customers have been very rude. A car pulls up, and I greet them.)

Me: “Hi! How can I help you?”

Customer: *singing in mock-opera style* “Just a momeeeennnt!”

(Laughter erupts from the backseat, as a coworker and I exchange a look, stifling laughter.)

Me: “Just let me know when you’re ready!”

Customer: *still singing* “Can I get twwooooo large chocolate shaaaakes!?”

(My headset is off, because I am laughing loudly as I enter their order.)

Customer: “And one laaarge strawberry shaaaake?”

Me: “Okay, I will have your total at the second window!”

(They get to the window, and it’s a woman and two young girls in the back, all of them with big grins, and giggling.)

Me: “That was absolutely fantastic! My coworker and I couldn’t stop laughing!”

Customer: “Did we make your night?”

Me: “Oh, yes!”

(After the customer leaves, we spend another 10 minutes just laughing until our sides hurt. Thank you so much for the laugh! It’s people like you who make it all worth it!)

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A Real Woman Versus Half A Man

| Waterbury, CT, USA | Right | August 28, 2013

(I am in line to purchase books. The cashier is a teenage girl who has somewhat obvious dark upper-lip hair. The customer she is currently serving speaks up.)

Customer: “Is there anyone else who can scan my books?”

Cashier: “I’m sorry, sir, but the only cashiers we have today are my colleague and myself.”

Customer: “Your manager, then.”

Cashier: “I’m sorry; she’s covering in the café right now. They’re very busy as you can see.”

Customer: “Well, I’m not having some hairy bimbo with a moustache touching my books!”

(The cashier looks like she’s about to cry. Having heard his last comment, I look up from reading the back of one of my books.)

Me: “Sir, there’s no need to be rude. She’s just doing her job, and you berating her isn’t helping.”

Customer: “No one asked you!”

Me: “No, but you just happened to have p***** off the wrong person. Do you have a smart phone?”

Customer: “Pssh, who doesn’t?”

Me: “Do me a favor and google ‘polycystic ovarian syndrome.'”

Customer: “That isn’t real.”

Me: “Google it.”

(The male customer takes out his phone and starts searching the internet. By this point, nearly everyone is watching the exchange, and a few people have run for the manager.)

Customer: “It’s some woman thing.”

Me: “It’s a disease caused by an imbalance between the estrogen and testosterone in a woman’s body. It messes with her whole reproductive system, and the increased testosterone can cause excess oil production, a slightly deeper voice, increased body hair and the possibility of a visible Adam’s Apple. Oh yeah, and in extreme cases, it can cause a woman’s body to be more boyishly shaped.”

Customer: “The h***! How would you know?! This s*** makes girls look like Bigfoot!”

(I point to the surplus of blonde hair on my arms, my somewhat broad shoulders, the marks of waxing on my neck, and the very slight Adam’s Apple.)

Me: “You happen to be talking to someone who has known she’s had the disease for the last 10 years. My case is on the line of moderate to severe. It’s treatable, but the only options out there have already nearly killed me once, so I just wax and the rest of me is what it is. Regardless of whether this poor girl has it or not, you shouldn’t just judge people because of a little hair.”

Customer: “So, you’re really a man.”

Me: “No, I’m all woman, but a woman willing to kick your a** if you don’t apologize to this girl.”

(The customer turns around and sees that not only is the cashier crying, but the manager and security have appeared.)

Me: “Miss, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve been in your shoes. I got made fun of all through high school.”

(Security takes the guy and disappears. I walk up to the counter and put my books down.)

Me: “I know it was presumptuous of me to throw ‘PCOS’ out there, but the look on your face when he made his comment looked all too familiar. My apologies.”

Cashier: “I was just diagnosed with it a few weeks ago; it hasn’t sunk in yet. I got my first paycheck from here today and was going to get my lip waxed after work. How did you know?”

Me: “Pretty much the comment he made about your lip. You know, aside from that, I can’t tell at all.”

Cashier: “Really?”

Me: “Really. You are a very lovely girl. There are support groups and such online where you can talk to other women and girls. You’re not alone.”

(The cashier starts crying again, so the manager sends her on her break, and gives me an extra discount on top of my member card to thank me!)

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25 Cents

| Right | August 28, 2013

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| Right | August 28, 2013

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