I’m working in the produce section, stocking some new bananas, and a customer comes over to me.

Customer: “Did you know that humans eat more bananas than monkeys?”

Me: “No, sir, I didn’t know that.”

Customer: “It’s totally true. Think about it. When was the last time you ate a monkey?”

Me: “That’s… I…”

Customer: “This is why I shouldn’t shop without the wife…” *Wanders off*

I’m scanning a customer’s items, and one of the items is a medicinal-looking cream.

Customer: “That cream is on sale, so that’s good.”

Me: “I’m glad you found it at a good price.”

Customer: “It’s for my man-parts.”

Me: *Scans faster*

Customer: “It’s because that b**** gave me a rash.”

Me: *Scans faster still*

Customer: “Why do b****es always gotta be b****es? I ain’t ever been with a b**** who wasn’t a b****!”

Me: *Scans furiously*

Customer: “Seriously, I got so many rashes down there. Why are women all b****es?”

Me: “Sir, if you wish to continue this conversation, I’m going to have to ask you to lie on a couch and start paying me a hundred bucks an hour!”

Minimum wage was not worth that trauma! Thankfully, he paid and got out there without venting any more of his issues, either medical or mental!

Related:
TMI Am Out Of Here!

DISCLAIMER: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

Because I’m a klutz, I ended up in an ambulance going to the hospital. (The short version is that I dislocated my shoulder and couldn’t put it back myself.) While we were in the ambulance, the paramedic got my information and then took my vitals. My blood pressure reading came back.

Paramedic: “Huh. Have you ever been told you have high blood pressure?”

Me: “No.”

Paramedic: “Hmm… Well, your blood pressure is reading in the high range of what we consider normal. You probably should talk to your doctor about it.”

I kind of brushed it off because my focus was on my shoulder and telling them that I didn’t need or want drugs. But a couple of days later, I was thinking about it, and I really should have said something like, “Of course, my blood pressure is spiked! My arm is six inches longer than it’s supposed to be, it feels like it weighs an extra 100 pounds, and I’m in an ambulance on the way to the hospital! I’d be surprised if it was low!”

But even my discharge paperwork from the emergency room had a note to the effect of “Your blood pressure was a little high, so you should follow up with your doctor for potential pre-hypertension.” I mean, I get that they want to give people information and everything, but also, let’s put stuff into perspective, people! I might not have been reacting the way a lot of people would, but let’s look at the situation here. 

For the record, when I went to my doctor for a hospital follow-up visit, my blood pressure was normal.

Me: “Hey, I’m trying to get your logo set up for embroidery, but I am missing some information. The notes say that the emblem should be hunter green and gold, but I need to know what color ‘gold’ you are referring to. We can do a metallic gold thread — which is not microwave-safe — or we can do a gold-colored thread — which looks gold and is microwave-safe, but it is not a metallic thread — or athletic gold thread — which is the golden rod color that sports teams use. Just let us know if you want metallic gold, gold-colored, or athletic gold. Thanks!”

Client: “Gold thread is fine.”

While driving home, I get stuck waiting at the railway crossing near the station of my little hometown. The station is to my left, the train has just stopped there. From my right, over a grassland, two preteen boys are biking toward the crossing. I mostly notice them because I am a bit worried about them knowing to look out for the train. They do; they lie down on the grass just under the bank, probably to watch the train from below. They’re nearer than I’m really comfortable with but safe enough.

Once the train is gone, one of them runs up the bank and puts something on a rail. Then, he looks around and adds two rather large stones — about the width of the rail itself, as far as I can see from where I am sitting in the third car from crossing. Then, he grabs his bike and goes to join his friend standing near the crossing; they obviously want to cross both the railway and street.

Seeing these actions, I roll down my right window. With half a dozen cars in each direction, they won’t be able to cross the street before my car reaches them, so I will be able to tell them off.

Only… the first car stops at the crossing. I don’t hear what is said, but one of the boys runs back to the rail and swipes the stones off. The cars in front of me drive away.

Wait, but he left the first thing. It’s not a stone but something colourful; maybe it’s soft, but still, I’m not going to take any chances.

I stop by the boys and shout for them to get the last item, as well, while the first car from the opposite direction has also stopped and is honking. The boys go and get the third item, as well, and we all drive on.

Somebody got a triple dose of being raised by the village today. And I got my belief that I am living among decent people confirmed.