(My twin brother is mentally handicapped, so he lives in a complex which provides housing and work for people like him. One day, I am visiting. His roommates are watching a reality show about driving. The most talkative roommate starts chatting with me.)
Me: “Those people are making a mess of it, aren’t they?”
Roommate: “Yes. I once saw a car that was wrongly parked.”
Me: “Oh, did you?”
Roommate: “Yeah. So I put a note on it, ‘Sir, you are not allowed to park here.’”
Me: “Ha! Serves him right.”
Roommate: “And then I slashed all four of his tires.”
(I work in an assisted living facility. Today we’re getting a new resident. This resident has a short, but easy-to-misspell last name, so my coworker uses her version of the phonetic alphabet over the phone to tell me how it’s spelled. For the purpose of anonymity, we’ll say the name is Hasc.)
Coworker: “Okay, it’s H as in ‘H***,’ A as in ‘A**,’ S as in ‘S***,’ C as in ‘C***.’”
Me: *laughing like an idiot* “Really, [Coworker]?”
Coworker: “Hey, you’ll never forget it!”
(I work at the front desk of an assisted living home, checking visitors in and out, among other duties. Two people are just leaving, male and female relatives of some sort, or maybe just friends. The guy is signing out.)
Guy: “There’s my name.” *signs the time he’s leaving*
Woman: “Oh! My name’s just below. You can do me now, too.”
(I looked up with an OMG-did-you-just-say-that face. She looked right at me with an OMG-did-I-just-say-that face, blushing. The woman and I smirked at each other and the husband just went on, oblivious. I had a good laugh after they left.)
(i’m a young nurse working at an adult day care, and i helping the staff hand out breakfast. i walk by an older patient who refuses to remove his cowboy hat and sunglasses. He smacks me on the behind.)
me: (turns around)
patient (looks me dead in the eye) Coffee. (goes back to eating)
what could i do but get the man his coffee lol! like a boss!
(I work at the front desk at an assisted living home for seniors. I’m just sitting here, minding my own business, when a rather upset resident in her 80s comes up to the desk.)
Me: “Hello, [Resident]. What’s the matter?”
Resident: “I don’t know if I should tell you…” *wringing her hands*
Me: “It’s okay; you can tell me.”
Resident: *shifts eyes around before leaning in close* “He’s coming back. Voldemort.”
Me: *eyes go wide* “Uh…”
Resident: “You don’t believe me. No one does. But Voldemort is coming, and the children are going to die.”
(I called for staff to come help her to her room, and just stared as they walked her back to her room while she continued on about Dark Marks and wards and spells. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh at the riddikulus-ness or be super impressed that an 80-year-old had Harry Potter knowledge. I think I’ll go with both.)
