They’re Actually Allergic To Self-Control

, , , , , | Healthy | March 5, 2018

(I work at an eye institute. One day, my coworker tells me about the following exchange.)

Coworker: “Do you have any allergies?”

Patient: “I’m allergic to whiskey.”

Coworker: “Okay… What kind of reaction did it give you?”

Patient: *completely serious* “It made me throw up.”

Coworker: “…”

That Stabbing Pain Is A Customer

, , , , | Right | March 1, 2018

(It’s just after eight am and a slovenly man walks into the shop where I work and asks for a large bottle of vodka that is kept behind the counter. It is illegal in this country to sell alcohol before ten am.)

Coworker: “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t sell you this before ten o’clock.”

Customer: “What?”

Coworker: *points at clock* “We cannot sell alcohol before ten.”

Customer: *suddenly angry* “But I want it.”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t sell you this until ten.”

Customer: “I can’t wait until ten; I’m getting the bus in five minutes.”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, sir, but I could be fined up to £5,000 for selling this before the allowed time, and our shop could lose its licence.”

Customer: “I won’t tell anyone.”

Coworker: “That isn’t the issue, sir. It is illegal, and I won’t sell you the alcohol. Our tills won’t even allow them to be scanned before ten o’clock, either, so I cannot process the transaction, even if it weren’t against the law.”

Customer: *irritated* “What if I just leave you the money and you can put it through later?”

Coworker: “That is still an illegal sale and can result in me losing my job.”

Customer: *leans over counter* “I don’t f****** care if it’s illegal; give me the drink or I will f****** stab you!”

(At this point, I am now afraid for the safety of my coworker and I’ve grabbed the phone to call the police. My coworker on the other hand is unfazed, and merely crosses his arms over his chest.)

Coworker: “Well I’m not selling you it. So I guess you’ll just have to stab me.”

Customer: *flustered and red in the face* “Fine!” *leaves the store*

(I ran to the window and, after checking the number of the bus he was getting on, I called the police. He was apprehended by the police twenty minutes later at the next bus stop.)

Pray That’s Just Dry Humor

, , , , , , | Working | February 16, 2018

(I work in a bar with a coworker who is absolutely lovely, but can be quite feather-brained. Still, I wouldn’t have believed this if I hadn’t witnessed it myself! I’m sat off to the side on my break while [Coworker] is behind the bar. A customer approaches and asks for a dry white wine. I watch my coworker walk back and forth along the row of wine fridges, looking increasingly confused. Eventually she turns back to the customer.)

Coworker: “I’m so sorry; I think we’ve only got wet ones!”

Walking Tall After The Fall

, , , , , , , | Friendly | February 14, 2018

(I’m driving to my evening class in my beat-up little car, and I pull off the freeway and take the off-ramp towards the college. I stop at the red light at the top of the hill, but the car behind me doesn’t and ends up rear-ending me. It doesn’t feel like a hard hit, so, as soon as I can, I slowly pull through the intersection and head immediately into the parking lot of the strip mall next to me. The other car, which looks equally as old as mine, follows me and parks in a nearby spot. I can see the two guys in the front seat and they are freaking out a bit. I get out of the car, and as soon as they see me, they panic more. I’m a big guy — well over six feet tall, and 300+ pounds of muscle — with a full beard.)

Me: “Hey, you guys all right?”

(They get out of the car, but they never take their eyes off me. I’m almost a foot taller than them, and I can see them shaking.)

Driver: “D-d-dude! Oh, man, dude! I am so sorry! It was just a little bump, dude!”

Passenger: “Yeah, man, we’re so sorry!”

(I walk to the back of my car and take a look. There’s barely a little dent in my back bumper, so I check the front of their car, too, and it doesn’t even look like there’s any damage at all. The whole time, the two guys are shaking, fidgeting, and apologizing profusely. I’m starting to feel really bad for them, as they look young, and I’m sure they are scared of me.)

Me: “Well, it doesn’t look like there’s any real damage. So, we don’t need to bother calling anyone. Are you two okay?”

(They immediately relax and smile, and the driver kind of does a funny little jump-dance thing.)

Driver: “Yeah, man! No, we’re all right! Yeah!”

Passenger: “Dude, we’re cool! We’re all cool! You want a beer?”

(In horror, I watch as the passenger pulls a nearly-empty six-pack out of the front seat and tries to hand me the last bottle. I have no more pity for these idiots. I bring myself up to my full height, clench my fists, and put on my scariest face.)

Me: *in a deeper voice as I glare at the driver* “Were you drinking?!”

(They immediately freeze in place, their faces go pale, and they look at me in wide-eyed terror. The driver looks like he might pass out as he stutters:)

Driver: “Um… Uh… We… Uh…”

Passenger: “Uh… Well… Just a little.”

Me: “Do you have any idea how incredibly stupid that is?! You could kill someone! I ought to call the police right now! Your a***es deserve to be in jail!”

Driver: *full-on panicking*Wait! No! Please, no! No! My parents would kill me! Please! We’ll do anything!”

Me: “Anything?!”

Driver: “Anything, man! Anything! Just don’t call the cops!”

(I step forward, and they both flinch like I’m going to hit them, but instead, I grab the remaining beer out of the passenger’s hand, pull out my keys, and pop the top. I turn the bottle upside down and pour it out on the ground at their feet. I step back and get in the driver’s face.)

Me: *in my most intimidating voice* “Lock your car and walk! Sober up, and never drive drunk again! DO. YOU. GET. ME?!”

Driver: *shaking and absolutely terrified* “Y-Yes!”

(I turn and get in the face of the passenger.)

Me: “DO. YOU. GET. ME?!”

Passenger: *cowering and equally terrified* “Y-Yes, sir!”

Me: “NOW, WALK!”

(They stood still for a moment before I bellowed, “WALK!” again, and the passenger took off down the strip mall while the driver fumbled with his keys to lock his door, and then ran to catch up with his friend. I stood watching them jog all the way to the end of the parking lot and across the street before I got back in my car and headed to class. My class was four hours long, so I didn’t get out until almost 11 pm, but when I did, I headed back to the freeway and saw that the guy’s car was still there.)

Not Sure We Beer-lieve You

, , , , , , , | Related | February 11, 2018

(I’m a preteen in this story. My friend and I are sitting in the basement chatting when my four-year-old brother comes tearing through at top speed.)

Me: “Hey, [Brother]. Where are you going so fast?”

Brother: “I’m getting a beer for Mommy! She needs it right away!”

(My friend stares at me, wide-eyed.)

Me: “She’s making dinner, I swear.”

Friend: “Okay, if you say so.”

(Fortunately, my friend stuck around for dinner, and greatly enjoyed my mom’s signature beer-braised chicken with barley and vegetables!)

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