Will Be A While Before You Can Top That

, , , , , , | Related | July 13, 2017

(My brother, his girlfriend, and I are having dinner together the day after Mother’s Day. It is the first one since we lost our grandma, whose grave we visited for the day. At that, my brother mentions his girlfriend doesn’t like some of the jokes he makes about Grandma’s death, which include his accidental attempt to put Dad into the grave with her. We’ve just finished talking about Grandma’s husband, who died when we were young and had the same name as our father.)

Brother: “I never knew him, so it’s freaky to see Dad’s name on a grave.”

Me: “I sorta remember him, but I always forget you were five.” *to his girlfriend* “It’s been seventeen years since he died. Grandma spent years without him.”

Girlfriend: “It’s kinda nice, though, to think they’re together now.”

Me: “Yeah.”

Brother: “Now she gets to be on top.”

Me & Girlfriend: *freeze, stare at another, then burst out laughing*


Me & Girlfriend: *laugh more*

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Necessarily Paying Attention

, , , | Romantic | July 12, 2017

(How to tell my husband isn’t paying attention to me:)

Me: “We haven’t had sex in three days.”

Husband: “Not necessarily.”

(No, he’s not getting sex elsewhere. He just really was not paying attention.)

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Ferreting Around For Some Good Parenting

, , , , , | Hopeless | July 6, 2017

(I often take my very tame, very friendly female ferret out on her lead to get some fresh air. I mostly get a lot of strange looks but for some reason people with small children act like ferrets are awful, vicious creatures that carry all kinds of disease. On my walk one day a young woman is walking along with a little girl, about three years old. I brace myself for the worst.)

Girl: “Mummy! Mummy, what’s that animal?!”

Girl’s Mother: *laughing* “That’s a ferret, sweetie!”

Girl: “Awwww, so cute!”

(I pause for a moment a few steps away from them, mostly out of shock, and a little bit because I’m used to people wanting to skirt me and my ferret in the street.)

Girl: “Can I pat it, mummy? So cuuuuuute!”

Girl’s Mother: “Remember we don’t touch other people’s pets without asking; they might get scared, or they might not like kids.”

Me: *still slightly stunned* “This one does. She plays with my nephews all the time. She can pat her if she wants to.”

Girl’s Mother: “Oh, thank you!”

(The mother kneels down and keeps telling her daughter, “Now, gentle! Don’t scare her; nice and soft,” and stopping her daughter from touching my ferrets face. The little girl is over the moon and incredibly sweet and gentle, giggling like crazy as my loveable lump of a ferret sniffs her and revels in the attention.)

Girl’s Mother: “Thank you so much. She LOVES animals.”

Me: “It’s no problem at all. Most parents yank their kids away like my ferret might set them on fire.”

Girl’s Mother: *screws up face* “How stupid! Our guinea pig has probably bitten more people than this little guy.”

(After a quick chat I learned they’d just moved in up the street from me and they were walking to the park down the block. Almost every afternoon for the next several months we met up along the same patch of sidewalk and the little girl would pat my ferret, and the mum and I would chat for a bit. When my ferret finally passed away last month of old age, they met up with me the next day with a card and a box of chocolates, and an adorable drawing of my ferret done by my tiny toddler friend. All it took was one person realising my ferret was not a danger to her kid for me to gain two wonderful friends.)

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IOU Nothing

, , , , | Right | June 30, 2017

(A woman has entered our shop, which has a very generous returns policy. This is the second time she has visited with the same story, and the second time this conversation has played out.)

Customer: “I came in just before Christmas to swap [Cosmetic] for another one more suitable, and the lady behind the counter said she ‘shouldn’t do this’ but gave me an IOU since you were out of the one I needed. Then my wallet was stolen with the IOU in it. I came in last week and you wouldn’t help me. But I still want my [Product].”

Me: “I’m very sorry your wallet was stolen. Can you describe the person who served you?”

Customer: *perfectly describes a distinctive staff member*

Me: “That sounds like [Coworker]. She left the company over a month before Christmas. And she would have been perfectly qualified to issue you a credit note — no ‘I shouldn’t do this’ needed.”

Customer: “I still want my [Product].”

Me: “I don’t have any return, credit note, or ‘IOU’ to put into the system. It’s like having no cash.”

Customer: *getting angry* “I’m upset that you won’t give me my [Product]!”

Me: “It’s not that I don’t believe you, but I have no credit note as evidence and the staff member you describe wasn’t here at the time you specified. And none of my staff would do an ‘under-the-table’ IOU. I’m always right here if they need help to process a return.”

Customer: “It’s not fair that I don’t get anything! No refund! No [Product]!”

Me: “I don’t have anything to use as tender.”

(I call the manager over, who listens to the story again. It goes around in circles so many times we give in.)

Manager: “I will give you a free [Product] this once. But it’s important that you understand that without any credit note, receipt, or evidence I can’t help you in future; it’s as if I went to another shop and said, ‘My $100 cash has been stolen! Can I have $100 of free stock?’ I’m sorry that your wallet was lost, but unfortunately I can’t give things away for free.”

Customer: “Hmff! Thank you.”

(I can imagine this lady might have gone on to trade all her invisible lost loyalty cards in for free juices and coffees. The customer is not always bright…)

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Siblings Who Drive You Crazy

, , , , | Related | June 28, 2017

(I learned the hard way not to buy anything from my elder sister; she still believed she owned it. She decides to sell her first car when she gets married and Dad, knowing that I am in the market for a car, talks me into buying it. I am earning limited money but always make sure I have petrol in the car. After not driving it for a few days I would get in to find a significant difference in petrol levels. I would leave it filled and find it on empty on numerous occasions. I always leave the spare key in case my father needs the car, but know he would never leave me without petrol.)

Me: “Dad, who’s using my car when I’m at work?”

Dad: “Your sister. I thought you knew. I gave her the keys because she said she asked you.”

Me: “No, she didn’t. I’m going to be hiding the keys from now on. Give me a call at work if you need the car.”

Dad: “It can’t be that much of a problem, can it?”

Me: “It’s costing me money; I fill the car and the next time I get back in it’s empty.”

(A few days later, I am ill so don’t go to work and I find my sister searching in the place where I usually keep my keys.)

Me: “They aren’t there.”

Sister: *jumps* “What aren’t there?”

Me: “My keys. You won’t find them.”

Sister: “But I need the car; give me the keys.”

Me: “No, I need the car to drive to the doctor’s. Oh, and I don’t appreciate that you lied to Dad to get my car.”

Sister: “But it was my car first.”

Me: “What part of selling it to me don’t you understand? You know, if you replaced the petrol you used I wouldn’t have known.”

Sister: “But it’s your car. Why would I put petrol in your car?”

Me: “Because. You. Used. It.”

(And no, she didn’t get it.)

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