Wanted To Give The Date Some Pez-zaz

, , , , | Romantic | December 8, 2019

(This guy and I have been flirting back and forth for a bit and we decide to go see a play. This story takes place in the middle of the performance. Mind you, it’s NOT intermission but during the performance. I’m silently watching the show and suddenly feel something on my leg.)

Guy: “Hey, psst.”

Me: *whispers without looking away* “Yes?”

Guy: “You want a PEZ?”

Me: *shocked* “What?!”

Guy: “You. Want. A. PEZ?”

Me: *looking down at the PEZ dispenser on my leg* “Is that BB-8?!”

Guy: “Yeah. It’s orange flavor.”

(I then proceeded to laugh through the next song. At intermission, I told my friend who told me he may have gotten the idea from “Seinfeld.”)

They Vow To Keep Consistent

, , , , | Romantic | December 7, 2019

(I work front desk at a downtown hotel in one of the larger college towns in the American Midwest. Our little 147-room property has seen it all: managers getting fired, wedding parties that were literal trash, and even the bridal and in-law versions of Godzilla incarnate. But it’s not often we see humor from the grooms. A small wedding party is in with us, consisting of the bride and groom. This morning, the bride comes up to the desk.)

Bride: “Hi! Have you got a pen and a piece of paper?”

Me: “We sure do! How much do you need?”

Bride: “Just one piece. I’m getting married today and forgot my vows.”

Me: *pulling out a pen and a sheet of paper* “Congratulations! Here you go!”

Bride: “Thanks!”

(The bride wanders off and writes her wedding vows. I think nothing more of it until I see a haggard-looking man come up to the desk, Coors in hand.)

Guy: “Hey, have you got a pen and a sheet of paper?”

Me: “We sure do. Let me guess, vows?”

Guy: *with a sly smile* “Yeah. I forgot ’em; haven’t got a clue what to say.”

Me: *giggles* “Good thing you remembered them! Just write from the heart, man! Here’s the stuff.”

Guy: “Thanks!”

(The Coors guy walks off and again, I don’t think anything of it. That is, until about ten minutes later, when he comes back up to the desk.)

Guy: “Thanks.”

Me: “Get it all written out?”

Guy: “Well, something like that. I figure I’ll just half-a** it and make it up as I go.”

Me: *as I try to keep from laughing* “Oh… well, good luck.”

(I told my manager about it and he laughed. One can only wonder how that marriage will go, but to the happy bride and groom, they seemed eager. Fingers crossed!)

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Dough Not Engage!

, , , , | Romantic | December 6, 2019

(I work in a chain bakery within a shopping centre. We are across from a supermarket and throughout the day a sales associate goes on “tastings,” essentially just standing in front of the shopfront offering free samples to people walking past. I am out on tastings when I am approached by an older man. I am eighteen and fresh out of high school.)

Random Guy: “Well, I suppose I’d better take one, then.”

Me: “Here you go, enjoy!”

Random Guy: “Hey, why did the baker go out of business? Because he ran out of dough!”

(Cue awkward laughter and a polite customer service smile.)

Random Guy: “Hey, can I buy you a drink?”

(This catches me totally off guard as this has never happened before, and I have no idea how to respond, so I just try to be polite.)

Me: *laughs* “No, thanks. I’ve got to do my work.”

Random Guy: “Don’t worry, I’ll get you a drink.”

(The dude walked away and I thought he was leaving, but he was back ten minutes later with what looked like a bottle of wine; it was a non-alcoholic drink from the supermarket next door. He gave it to me and I just thanked him and ran back inside as quickly as possible. I’m still not sure if he was a creep or just trying to be nice.)

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You Laced It With Laziness

, , , | Romantic | December 5, 2019

(I’m folding laundry.)

Me: “Hey, this would make a great Halloween bra!”

Girlfriend: “Huh? Because it’s black?”

Me: “Well, yeah, but it’s also got this cool spiderweb design.” *gestures to the sides of the bra*

Girlfriend: “Oh… that’s not a spiderweb design.”

Me: “Huh?”

Girlfriend: “That’s just what happens when I’m too lazy to use a delicates bag… It used to be lace.”

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Cheek-Slappingly Funny

, , , , , | Romantic | December 4, 2019

(My husband, my brother, and I are about two-thirds of our way into a ten-mile hike. Things have not been going according to plan; for one, my husband is hobbling along on a sprained ankle he got from a nasty slip a couple of miles back. As we were too far in to turn back — the journey back would have been all uphill — and he would probably have to stay in the wilderness overnight if one of us left to get help, which he resolutely decided against, the only thing to do was to keep going. We haven’t seen many people, though we are certainly not alone; a lovely swarm of mosquitos is graciously accompanying us every step of the way. Of course, I forgot the bug repellent in the car. I’m keenly aware of the time I told my parents to expect our arrival at the car park, the fact that we will probably get there at least two hours after that time, after dark, and how worried they’ll be because of it. On top of all that, at this present moment, we appear to have lost the trail — for the second time on this whole journey — even though I was sure we’d stayed on the path.)

Husband: “Look, everything’s going to be fine. We’ll just head back the way we came, and I’m sure we’ll find a fork we missed somewhere, and we’ll pick up the trail again.”

(We turn around, my brother leading the way. He quite sensibly wants to get out of here as fast as possible and walks quickly on ahead. In contrast, my rational brain decides it has reached its limit of what it can handle today and decides now is a good time to take a time-out.)

Me: *hyperventilating* “This can’t be happening. How far back do we have to go before we find the trail? It’s already almost dark, my parents are probably s***ting themselves, and there’s no reception. What if–“

Husband: *grabbing me by the shoulders and turning me around* “Sweetie, calm down. We’re gonna find the trail, and we’re gonna find our way out.”

Me: “But–“

Husband: *firmly* “We’re not gonna die, okay? We–“

Me: *slaps him*

Husband: *blinks*

Me: *realises* “There… No, there was a mosquito. I’m sorry! You had a mosquito on your cheek!”

(I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation.)

Husband: *dryly* “Well, gee. If I’d known that was all you needed to feel better. Here, wanna slap the other cheek, too?” 

Me: “No, no, it was a mosquito, I swear! There really was a mosquito!” *laughing uncontrollably*

Husband: *smirks* “Uh-huh, sure. Whatever you say, dear.”

(We arrived at the car park several hours later, well after dark, to the immense relief of my parents. My husband’s ankle took some recovering; it was pretty swollen for a day or two. On the bright side, he now gets to brag about the time he hiked six miles on a sprained ankle. He also gets to regale the admittedly hilarious account of how HE had to calm ME down only to get brutally slapped for his valiant efforts. The honest truth, though, there really was a mosquito.)

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