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Awkward Antics

, , , , | Learning Related | May 12, 2022

When I went to pick my daughter up from her first day of preschool, the director wanted to speak to me. Apparently, she stood in front of the class and announced:

Daughter: “My name is [Daughter], I’m a cross-addicted alcoholic, and I’m grateful to be here.”

I then had to explain that her father sometimes brings the kids to his Alcoholics Anonymous meetings.

I went home and told my husband, and we laughed and laughed. He didn’t bring the kids to his meetings anymore after that.

That’s Just Uncanny

, , , , , , | Working | May 10, 2022

CONTENT WARNING: Pregnancy Loss

 

This is one of the weirdest things to have ever happened to me. To start, I had a drinking problem when I was in my early twenties, and while I toyed with the idea of getting sober, I never really had the motivation. I had a coworker who was a little odd and kind of a goofball, but she was really sweet. I went in to work one day and was getting ready to head out onto the floor when she stopped me.

Coworker: “Congratulations on your pregnancy!”

Me: “Uh… I’m not pregnant.”

It was really strange, because she said it with such certainty. I didn’t think any more about it. The next day, I came in and was very excited for a party I’d be going to that night.

Me: “[Husband] and I are going out tonight. I’m getting smashed!”

Coworker: “That’s not a good idea. [My Name], you’ll hurt the baby. Could you stick to water or soda tonight?”

Me: “[Coworker], I’m not pregnant.”

She kept giving me strange looks all day, but I shrugged it off and went to the party anyway. I got wasted and enjoyed myself. The next week, I missed my period. After a few days of it not coming, I took a pregnancy test and… yes. I was pregnant. I got to work and took her aside.

Me: “Hey, so… Yeah, I’m pregnant. How the h*** did you know?”

Coworker: “Huh? I don’t know. You just looked different when you walked in, and that’s what popped into my head.”

It didn’t end here, though. About a month later, I had a miscarriage. I was devastated and had to take time off work. I went through that phase of grief where I felt like it was my fault for not listening to my coworker, even though I had no way of knowing at that time that I was pregnant. When I went back to work, she also seemed really upset for me, and she apologized over and over, even though it wasn’t her fault. 

About six months later, I was going in to work, and my coworker stopped what she was doing to look at me.

Coworker: “Oh! Hey, congratulations on the baby!”

Manager: “[Coworker]! This is not funny! Don’t you joke about that right now! Apologize to her for it!”

Coworker: “But… but she’s pregnant again.”

I had plans to go out that same weekend, and I cancelled them immediately, just to be safe. I stuck to water to drink and didn’t really over-exert myself. About a week later, I missed my period. Another pregnancy test later, followed by a visit to the doctor confirmed that yes, I was pregnant. Again. I had a healthy daughter nine months later, and it helped me finally get sober.

He Barely Has Any Peach Fuzz

, , , , , , , | Right | May 9, 2022

I’m a server working on a busy Friday night when I get a family of three: a dad, a mom, and a guy who we can plainly see is in the military. He looks young and is very flirtatious.

Me: “Hello and welcome! I’ll be taking care of you.”

Son: “Thank God we got a hot one.”

Me: “Ha. Okay. What can I get you to drink?”

Mom & Dad: “Water, please.”

Son: “I’ll take a peach margarita.”

Me: “What kind of tequila?”

Son: *Starts to smile* “Which do you prefer?”

Me: “Don Julio is top shelf here.”

Son: “Great. I’ll take that.”

Me: “Okay. Can I see your ID, please?”

Son: “I’m not sure if I have it. I just got home from the military and I’m looking for a good drink and good company.” *Winks*

Me: “Okay, but I can’t serve you unless you have ID.”

Son: “All I have is my military ID on me. I don’t know if it has my birthdate on it, though.”

As a bartender as well, I know it does.

Me: “That’s fine. I’ll just look at it quickly.”

The son smiles really big and winks again.

Son: “Okay… here you go.”

I take the ID and flip it over to see his birthdate.

Me: “Wait… you aren’t twenty-one. You just turned nineteen.”

The son loses his smile and takes back his ID.

Dad: “I’ll take the peach margarita.”

Me: “Sorry, but I can’t serve a drink he ordered to you.”

Dad: “But he’s in the military, for Christ’s sake!”

In my head, I’m thinking he just got out of boot camp. At this point, I’m pretty pissed at all the time they’ve wasted. I’ve been sat again, and I know I’m not going to get a tip from this family.

Me: “Sir… I don’t care if he’s in the Avengers. He isn’t twenty-one and looks it. I’ll get fired on the spot.”

Dad: “Can we request another server?”

Me: “If you don’t like this table, you can go back to the host and put your name down for another table and server. The wait is forty-five minutes. I’ll be right back with your waters if you decide to stay.”

I then turned around and greeted my next table. They did stay but complained about everything, so the manager went by. They tried ordering the drink with him, and since I had already explained everything to him, he carded the kid and said, “I’ll bring you a virgin peach margarita on me.”

No tip on $40.00.

The Spice Must Flow

, , , , | Right | May 4, 2022

For about two years, I worked at a small gas station that was part of a Midwest supermarket.

I worked the evening shifts and doors were locked at twelve. I had to operate out of a rotating window and a faulty speaker, catering to boozy customers. The most memorable night I can recall is when I discovered that the lock on the door was faulty.

I found this out when a lady pushed her way into the store at 3:00 am. There were two feet of snow on the ground outside and she was wearing a micro-skirt, a bikini top, a fake fur jacket that stopped above her midriff, and Uggs. I say this not to shame her, but to illustrate the scene that followed.

The girl was obviously intoxicated, and I was pretty unnerved, not knowing what to do about the lady and thinking about how I could be fired for someone being in the building, even though it was not my fault.

After repeatedly telling the lady that she could not be in the building and that she had to go outside, which she ignored, she stumbled over to the nacho and chili stand.

Customer: “I want nachos! I can get this cheese, right?”

Me: “Uh, Yeah… I guess.”

At this point, I just wanted her to get what she wanted and leave.

She proceeded to fill up a whole nacho tray with cheese, and then she tottered toward my register. Halfway to my register, she spilled some cheese down her BARE stomach. She then proceeded to scoop some of the cheese off and lick it as though she was part of an X-rated film while staring drunkenly at me.

After this tasting, she looked confused and angry. She placed the chips and cheese on the counter in front of the register and proceeded to get mildly belligerent.

Customer: “You didn’t tell me this cheese had spice in it! I am allergic to spice! Why would you do this to me?”

Me: “Ma’am, all nacho cheese is mildly spicy. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but since you already dispensed it, you have to pay for it.”

Customer: “But I’m allergic to spice!”

She said this while scooping more of the cheese out of the tray and attempting to perform another X-rated gesture with her cheese-covered finger.

Me: “It comes out to [total]. Is that all you want?”

Customer: “But it has spice!

Me: “And you’re still eating it. Pay up and get out.”

She then paid for the nachos and wove her way out of the gas station. Thinking that it was over, I exhaled and made sure the door was firmly locked this time.

Ten minutes passed and I saw her vehicle pull in front of pump one. After attempting the door three times and discovering that it was locked, she went over to the window.

Customer: “I need a refund. You sold me spicy nachos and I’m allergic to spice!”

Now, as a particular stipulation, I was not allowed to give refunds from the gas station. I needed manager permission to give a refund, and since I worked alone locked in the building on midnights, the customer had to go up to the main store, which was open twenty-four-seven, and go to the service desk to get a refund.

I explained this to her, and it took many times to get it through to her that I could not possibly help her at that point.

She was still mad, and she decided that the proper response was to take what was left of the cheese — only about a quarter of it — and smear it along the store’s window, spelling out, “F*** YU ND UR SPISY CHEZ!” Then, she drove off.

When my coworker came to relieve me in the morning, I told him the story. He barely believed me, and he made me scrub off the half-frozen cheese. I wish I had a hidden camera for this experience, but it’s mind-boggling and worth sharing.

I’m glad that I stopped working there. This is only one of the many horrible memories I have associated with the place, but at least this one is amusing.

Well, She Made ONE Good Decision

, , , , , | Learning | April 23, 2022

I am a taxi driver picking up my first fare of the day. I pick up a lady in her forties going to the local tafe — think community college for those Americans. She seems a little off but polite enough.

Halfway through the job:

Lady: “Actually, can we stop at [Bottleshop]?”

Me: “Sure, I can stop there, but it’s the other way from [Tafe].”

Lady: “Yeah, that’s fine. I really need a bottle of [Cheap Wine].”

I stop. She gets out and staggers inside, while I contemplate this lady already drunk at 10:00 am and buying more alcohol to drink at [Tafe]. She returns after a few minutes. She opens the bottle, takes a big gulp of it, and then gets back in the taxi.

Lady: “It’s okay, I know not to drink in the cab. Now to [Tafe].”

We get almost to the tafe.

Lady: “You know what? I don’t think I should go.”

Me: “Oh, okay. It’s up to you.”

Lady: “Yeah, I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’m drunk.”

Me: “Fair enough. So, where to now?”

Lady: “[Pickup address], please.”

I drive her home. All in all, it cost her $60 for a $13 bottle of wine. And she leaves me with this:

Lady: “Yeah, I think it’s a good idea to stay home. Wouldn’t want the students getting the wrong idea now.”

She staggered inside and I was a little dumbfounded.