Back To The Uber

| San Francisco, CA, USA | Right | November 3, 2015

(A large group of us are going from a house party to a club, so we order two separate Ubers. My group gets into the second Uber just as the first one is pulling away.)

Me: “Driver! Follow that car!”

Uber Driver: “Awesome! I’ve always wanted someone to say that!”

(We pull away and start following our friends in the first Uber.)

Uber Driver: “So, why are we following them?”

(My three slightly tipsy friends and I all answer simultaneously.)

Friend #1: “Kidnapping.”

Friend #2: “Terrorists.”

Friend #3: “Aliens.”

Me: “Time Travelers.”

Uber Driver: “So… time-traveling alien terrorists have kidnapped someone?”

Me: “That’s right!”

Uber Driver: “Well I have a flux-capacitor in the back!”

Me: “But this isn’t a DeLorean!”

Uber Driver: “Yeah, Uber wouldn’t let me use the DeLorean for fear I would get the passengers to their destinations before they even left their point of origin. Temporal paradoxes and all that. But I still have the spare flux-capacitor, so don’t tell them!”

Me: “Your secret is safe with us.”

Uber Driver: “So shall we time travel to stop the evil alien time-traveling terrorists from their fiendish scheme?”

Friend #1: “I see a problem with that plan.”

Me: “What’s that?”

Friend #1: “Good luck hitting 88 mph in downtown San Francisco…”

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Jumps Straight To Red Alert

| USA | Right | November 2, 2015

Woman: *slams a phone on the counter* “You’re going to block her, right now!”

Me: “Uh… Welcome to [Store], ma’am. Can I help you?”

Woman: *very slowly* “You’re… going… to… block… her… noooowww.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, I got that the first time. Who am I blocking and why?”

Woman: “Amber! She keeps calling my husband and I think he’s meeting her on the side! I want her blocked! I’ll pay you double if you trace her.”

Me: “Ma’am, we don’t trace people here. I don’t think it’s possible or even legal for us to do so, even if we could. May I see the number?”

(She pulls it up in her history and I feel a part of me die inside.)

Me: “Ma’am… that’s an Amber Alert.”

Woman: “I know! BLOCK HER NOW!”

Me: “Ma’am, an Amber Alert is a nationwide message sent to all phones telling people to be on the lookout for abducted children. You probably have one, too.”

Woman: “Isn’t she just stalking me?”

Me: “No, ma’am. She’s telling you to currently be on the lookout for a missing little girl named [Child’s Name], taken in a white Subaru about a day ago. The Amber Alert is not trying to steal your husband.”

(After much coaxing, the woman left, still skeptical and still eyeing her phone suspiciously. My coworkers still laugh about it.)

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It’s Going To Be A Long Year…

| MD, USA | Right | November 2, 2015

(A customer comes up to me with a calendar. There is no cover. It’s just wrapped in plastic and the front of it is the first month, January 2016.)

Customer: “Is this calendar for 2016?”

Me: “Yes.”

Customer: “But it has, like, the whole year?”

Me: “Yeah, it does.”

Customer: “It’s not just for January?”

Me: “No, it has all of 2016 in it.”

(Satisfied, the customer puts it back and leaves.)

A Divisive Question

| St. Louis, MO, USA | Right | November 2, 2015

(I am a clerk stocking groceries. A newer, less experienced clerk approaches me to ask a question.)

Coworker: “Do we carry something called divided oil? A customer needs it for a recipe and I’ve never heard of it.”

(I went over to the baking aisle and proceeded to explain to the middle-aged female customer and my teenaged coworker what it meant when a recipe calls for one and a half cups oil, divided.)

You Ain’t Comin’ Back

| Right | November 2, 2015

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