(I work in a call centre, selling raffle tickets to raise money for different type of charities. This call happens to be for a heart research institute.)
Me: “Good morning, sir. My name is [Name], and I’m calling on behalf of [Heart Charity].”
Potential Customer: “Sorry, don’t have one of them.” *click*
(A friend has decided to start a small business providing healing massages at his wife’s beauty salon. He is relying on word-of-mouth recommendations. He has just given a massage to an acquaintance who has absolutely no filter. She waits until he is having a conversation with other friends.)
Acquaintance: “[Name], that massage you gave me was great; I was like—” *throws head back, moans, and pulls an orgasm face* “—afterwards. I’ll recommend you to everyone, they’ll all want to—” *moans again* “—as well.”
(My friend was clearly embarrassed. His wife just rolled her eyes and shook her head. He stuttered a thank you. She walked off, quite pleased with herself. A few other friends waited until they thought my friend was out of earshot and discussed how they would never let him touch them after that. She did more harm than good with her performance.)
(It’s early morning and I pull into a fast food restaurant for a mocha. I usually buy it there, and have since as well.)
Me: “Can I have a mocha, please?”
Worker: “We don’t do that here”
Me: “You don’t make mocha anymore?”
Worker: “No, we only do coffee or hot chocolate. If you want anything fancy like mocha you will need to try elsewhere.”
Me: “Okay. Then can I have a coffee with a spoonful of chocolate powder mixed in, please?”
Worker: “Sure thing.” *makes my mocha*
(I’ve received a jar of chocolate biscuits as a gift from my sister. The chocolate seems to have melted, so some of the biscuits are stuck together, and some have lost half of the chocolate. I try a couple and find that they taste awful and stale.)
Me: *to my son* “Could you tip these into the bin, please?”
Son: “Why are you throwing them out? It’s just a waste.”
([Son] hates wasting food, and will eat just about anything.)
Me: “They’re awful.”
Son: “They can’t be that bad; I’ll eat them.” *takes a bite of one and immediately spits in the bin* “What was that? Where did you get those from? You need to take them back.”
Me: “[My Sister] gave them to me as a gift.”
Son: “Well, that figures. Why am I not surprised?”
Me: “Save the jar; I can use that.”
Son: *looking in jar* “Umm, there are crumbs in here that don’t match the chocolate biscuits; she used a dirty jar.”
Me: “Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me either.”
(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.”
