Rise Of The Mummory

, , , , | Friendly | October 1, 2017

(I have almost no verbal filter, and, as such, I tend to say the first thing that comes into my head. I also have no shame, and am rarely embarrassed by anything I come out with. One day at school, I am sitting at a table with two friends and we are talking. I am a girl and my friends are both boys.)

Me: “I realised the other day that mums are called mummies because they have mammary glands.”

Friend #1: *puts his head in his hands and gazes downwards for several seconds, finding his voice* “That’s certainly very novel. Want a cookie?”

Me: *grinning* “But…”

(I trail off, not sure where I’m going with this. The conversation turns in a different direction. A few minutes later…)

Me: “But why not call them ‘mummory’ glands? Or ‘mammies’?”

Friend #2: “Just be quiet!”

Friend #1: “You’re listing off a whole bunch of fetishes right now. Like, all of them.”

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Shaved New Hires From A Bad Experience

, , , | Right | October 1, 2017

(We have a lady who regularly comes to the deli and makes us slice thinner, even though what she’s buying is already shaved, and therefore, thin. She also refuses to say shaved; it’s always “shredded,” which is a completely different product. I’m very tired of politely trying to get her to order the correct thing, so the last time she was in…)

Customer: “I want chicken, but shredded.”

Me: *reaches for shredded chicken*

Customer: “No! That one. But thinner.”

Me: “So, shaved chicken?”

Customer: “No! Shredded!”

Me: *reaches for shredded chicken*

Customer: “NO! THAT ONE!”

Me: “So, shaved chicken?”

Customer: “But I want it thinner than that!”

Me: “That’s fine; I can shave it finely for you. When you ask for shredded, you’ll get the shredded.”

Customer: “You didn’t correct me last time.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, I did. I tell you every time. We have new people hired, and they won’t know what you mean and I will not have you yelling at a 15-year-old girl because you can’t order the right thing.”

(We’ll see what happens next time she’s in…)

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Confusion Is The First Step To Understanding

, , , | Learning | October 1, 2017

(I am male.)

Student: “[Teacher], do you have children?”

Me: “No.”

Student: “Do you have a wife?”

Me: “No.”

Student: “Do you have a girlfriend?”

Me: “No.”

Student: “Are you single?”

Me: “No.”

(The student wandered away, confused. This has happened a few times this year. One day, a student will ask the right question, and I’ll tell them about my husband of seven years. It’s a way of amusing myself.)

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Should Have Banned Their Aid

, , , , | Right | September 29, 2017

(I am at the information desk when a customer approaches.)

Customer: “My son tore the plastic covering off this picture book, but we put it back together again.”

(She hands me a picture book with half the plastic jacketing torn off and held in place with at least ten bandaids. The bandaids are attached to the actual cover of the book in some areas where the jacketing is missing.)

Me: “Bandaids?”

Customer: “We didn’t have any sticky tape.”

Me: “Ma’am, we can’t accept this. We can’t loan a book out in this condition.”

Customer: “I fixed it, though.”

Me: “With bandaids. I’ll be entirely honest, if you had just left it we could have re-jacketed the book, but you’ve attached bandaids to the actual cover.”

Customer: “And we fixed the inside, too.”

(I flick through the book to find bandaids holding two lift-the-flap pieces in place.)

Me: “Yeah… I’m going to have to charge you a replacement fee for this one.”

Customer: “Why, though?”

Me: “Because you’ve covered the book in bandaids.”

Customer: “I think it’s fine to read this way.”

Me: “Well, the good news is that once you pay for a damaged item, it’s yours to keep.”

Customer: “I don’t want to keep that! It’s all torn and covered in bandaids!”

Me: “Exactly.”

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Requires A Nugget Of Sense

, , , , | Working | September 29, 2017

(This takes place at a well-known fried chicken restaurant. I have never had an issue placing this order, as the vast majority are aware of how to do maths.)

Me: “May I please get 20 chicken nuggets?”

Cashier: *who is definitely not a teenager; stares at me like I’m stupid* “We only do 10 maximum.”

Me: *after visibly steeling myself to refrain from replying sarcastically* “Then I will have two lots of ten nuggets, please.”

Cashier: “Oh! Sure! That’ll be [Price].”

(The sheer amount of idiocy shown was overwhelming. I was stunned.)

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