Acting Out Runs In The Family

, , , , , | Right | August 17, 2019

(I am a patron eating breakfast, and I see a large man with a very young child. The man is sucked into his phone, completely ignoring the child, except to hush him when he seeks some attention. This goes on for half an hour; the child is fairly well-behaved but clearly bored out of his mind. Near the end of this time, the child gets more rambunctious and the man starts pushing him in addition to hushing him. Before I leave, I walk over.)

Me: “Excuse me, sir, just a slight tip; if you’d pay some attention to him rather than playing with your phone, he might act out less, and you might not feel it’s necessary to lay your hands on him.”

Man: “And who the h*** are you? I raised six kids before; I think I know more about parenting than you! You should just shut your mouth, and please don’t ever go up to people at a restaurant like this; it’s rude.”

Me: “And I’m certain that at least the ones who you raised before you had a smartphone are probably model citizens like you, and think that violence or neglect towards their children is okay, but calling others out on unacceptable behaviour isn’t. Sir.”

Man: “I’ve got half a mind to kick your a** right now!”

Me: “Do you really think that’s an appropriate example to set for your son, sir?”

(He starts getting redder and sputtering so I decide I should make an exit.)

Me: “But you’re right about one thing; it really isn’t my business how poorly you raise your child. Have a nice day.”

(On the way out, my waitress stopped me to thank me for speaking to him. She had entertained the little boy some and he reacted very nicely to her, but she was frustrated by the father ignoring him, as well.)

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Drink Of The Sinners!  

, , , | Right | August 11, 2019

(I work in a wine tasting room in a popular tourist town in Arizona. While I’m working there one afternoon, the following exchange happens.)

Middle-Aged Woman: “Do you sell any white infidel?”

Me: “Pardon?”

Middle-Aged Woman: “Yeah, white infidel! I love that stuff; it’s like crack. It’s the best!”

Me: “Do you mean white zinfandel?”

Middle-Aged Woman: “Yeah! That! Got any?”

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Disappearing Into A Good Book

, , , , | Friendly | August 5, 2019

(I am sitting in a comfortable section of armchairs at a library enjoying a book that is so hilarious I am shaking with laughter, but struggling to do so as silently as possible to be considerate of other patrons and students. Another woman comes to sit down across from me. After some minutes go by where I have some more bouts of laughter, she reaches over and touches me on the knee.)

Woman: “Oh, my goodness. Are you okay, sweetie? Why are you crying?”

Me: *completely weirded out* “What? I’m not crying? I’m fine.”

Woman: “It really sounds like you’re sobbing and hiding it behind that book.”

Me: “Um… If I needed to have a cry, I would definitely find someplace more private to do it than behind a book. I’m laughing because this is really funny, but I’m trying not to be too loud. Really, I’m okay.”

Woman: “But you have tears in your eyes!”

Me: “Again, from laughing. You can take your hand off my knee; I don’t need to be comforted. Honestly, I was very happy at the moment.”

Woman: “Are you sure?”

Me: “Positive.”

Woman: “If something is wrong, it’s okay to talk about it. Do you need a hug?”

Me: “Argh! Nothing’s wrong!”

(She looks uncertain but withdraws. I feel her watching me closely, but I get engrossed back into reading. I also realize she can see my face perfectly well and that I am clearly grinning. I get to another passage that nearly has me doubling over in laughter and I’m shaking.)

Woman: “Are you sure you’re not crying?!”

Me: “Okay, you know what? I’m just going to take this book to go.”

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Heavy Metal Saves The Day

, , , , , , | Romantic | July 31, 2019

(I’m a sixteen-year-old female and taking summer school to get ahead in my classes. Since the school buses don’t run during the summer here and I don’t have a car or even a driver’s license, I’m forced to rely on public transportation. Today, a friend of mine, who is the same age as me, has to take the bus home, as well. During the ride, we’re talking about lessons, teachers, everything school-related, and so on, when I notice that the man across from us is staring. He’s easily in his 50s, very ratty looking, and just overall creepy. I watch him out of the corner of my eye and, sure enough, he never looks away. I don’t believe my friend ever notices, while I just try to focus on our conversation and ignore him. Eventually, my friend’s stop comes, we hug, and she leaves.)

Creepy Guy: *to me* “I would have kissed her!”

(I give him a blank stare, but I’m incredibly disgusted. My friend and I were picked up in front of our high school, carrying backpacks, talking about classes. Clearly, we are underage, or at the very least too young for this jerk, but that obviously doesn’t deter him.) 

Creepy Guy: *winks* “You’re cute.”

Me: *pointedly pulls out my headphones and CD player of ancient times*

Creepy Guy: “Is that your way of saying you don’t want to talk to me?”

(I ignored him, covered my ears with the headphones, and blasted the heavy metal CD I had in my player. I saw his mouth moving a couple more times while he watched me, but I stayed quiet. Nothing else happened and I got off at my stop with no issues. Still, though, it was the most uncomfortable experience I’ve ever had with public transport, and I avoid buses like the plague to this day.)

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Leaving Them Speechless; Quite A Feat

, , , , , , | Working | July 30, 2019

In 2000, I was a newlywed and a new mother. As finances were tight, my husband and I cut corners where we could. We accepted a free month of the local dial-up service, the only option at the time for Internet at our apartment complex.

The free month came to an end. I called to cancel, and while I gave a typical excuse of why I was going to cancel, I accepted a second month at a substantial discount.

At the end of the month, I called again to cancel. Thankfully, broadband was coming, so we definitely wanted to ditch the dial-up. The customer retention specialist, as usual, asked the reason for cancelling.

I told him I didn’t want to be on the Internet anymore. There was a moment of silence, followed by laughter and a surprising reply. I still find it funny, years later:

“Uh… there’s no response listed here for that reason! I’ll get this cancelled for you!”

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