The Telephone Line Is A Hard Border

, , , , | Right | February 12, 2020

Me: “Can you bring photo ID, like a passport, to one of our stores?”

Customer: “I know; I’ll email you a copy of my passport.”

Me: “There are two problems with that. Number one, I can’t receive emails, let alone attachments. Second, I can’t see you down the telephone line.”

Customer: “Fair point.”

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Getting That To Fit Is A Pipe Dream

, , , , , | Working | October 29, 2019

(The waste pipe under my sink is leaking, so I need a component to join two pipes. It is hard to find what I need because the pipes are weird sizes. So, I go to a specialist plumbing store.)

Me: “I need a reducer to go from 36mm to 40mm.”

Cashier: “Huh? They don’t make them that size. We have a 32mm and 40mm if you like?”

Me: “No, that won’t fit. Have you a tape measure?”

Cashier: “Here you go. Come round the back and I’ll show you the reducers we have.”

Me: *starts measuring my pipes to check the sizes*

Cashier: “Look, I’ve been in the business 35 years. They just don’t make pipes in that size.”

Me: “All right, show me.”

Cashier: “Anyway, you shouldn’t go by measuring them with a tape measure.”

Me: *thinking* “Are you serious?”

(We go into the warehouse.)

Cashier: “This is what you need. This will go from 40mm to 32mm.”

Me: “Here are my pipes. Show me.”

(He tries. Of course, the 40mm fits. The 36mm doesn’t.)

Cashier: “Huh? Let’s try… Something’s not right here. That should fit in… How about [useless component #2]?”

Me: “Sir, I never questioned your experience. However, your experience doesn’t change the size of the pipes in my house. As I explained, my pipes are 40mm and 36mm across the inside diameter. See for yourself; here is your tape measure. Can you sell me something which will connect these two, or not? Or can you suggest a workaround?”

Cashier: “I think I have a 38mm to 38mm upstairs. It might fit if we force it.”

Me: “Go and get it.”

(We try and force it on. The fit isn’t perfect, but it works.)

Me: “Close enough; it will do. How much?”

Cashier: “£1.60, please.”

(My sink waste is no longer leaking.)

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Signing In A Scottish Accent

, , , , , , | Learning | March 20, 2019

(I have Asperger’s Syndrome. I often feel like I don’t “fit in” because relating to people is challenging for me. However, I’ve started learning British Sign Language, and I love it. It is literal, logical, and has grey areas. Deaf people are very direct, too. I also have a photographic memory, which I haven’t found to be much use… until now. I learn new signs extremely fast. Even my deaf teacher struggles to keep pace. In class, we are learning about countries. This roleplay happens in front of the class, in BSL.)

Classmate #1: “Where are you going on holiday?”

Me: “New Scotland.”

Classmate #1: “What?”

Me: *slowly in BSL and English* “New Scotland, Canada: Nova Scotia.”

Classmate #1: *confused*

Teacher: “If you want to say two countries, you need to say, ‘and.’ Scotland A-N-D Canada.”

Classmate #2: *in English and BSL* “He didn’t say Scotland; I think he means New England and Canada.”

(I am extremely confused. The signs for England and Scotland are very different and unmistakable. I have no idea where she got “New England” from. As for my teacher, he didn’t have a clear view, and missed the sign “new.” He thinks I mean Scotland and Canada. I can’t get it across in BSL, so I resort to English.)

Me: “No, I signed literally, ‘New Scotland.’ That means Nova Scotia in Canada, which is Latin for ‘New Scotland.’ In most languages, including BSL, Nova Scotia is translated literally. I saw it last week from an interpreter on TV.”

Teacher: “Oh. Nothing wrong with the sign, but maybe we’ll keep it at the right level for the exam?”

(I continue to learn BSL extremely fast. One day I hope to qualify as an interpreter.)

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The Barking Mad Policeman Is Worse Than The Bite

, , , , , , | Legal | October 31, 2018

(I am attacked by a dog when I am cycling home from work. A huge mastiff jumps, and his claw slices into my arm, so I’m losing a lot of blood and I will need stitches. I need to get to hospital immediately. It is rush hour, and my car is only twenty metres away. I decide to drive myself, instead of calling an ambulance. Just outside the hospital, I see blue lights behind me. I pull over, get out of the car, and start speaking immediately.)

Me: “I’ve been mauled by a dog. I’m going to Accident & Emergency.”

Officer: “Why are you driving in the bus lane?”

Me: “Seriously? I need to get seen immediately. That’s more important than driving a bus lane. Really, now is not the time.”

Officer: “When did this happen? Where? Was anyone with you?”

Me: “Ten minutes ago on [Street], by myself. Why? Are you investigating the dog?”

Officer: “You should have called an ambulance. You shouldn’t be driving like that.”

(I’m livid at this point. The cop can see a huge wound on my arm, but he is arguing about this right literally in front of the hospital. I have had enough. Technically, he could ticket me for this, but I take my chances.)

Me: “What exactly did you observe about my driving that makes you think I can’t drive with an injured arm?”

Officer: “Nothing in particular. You can’t concentrate properly with—”

Me: “So, you have no evidence that my driving is impaired. Look at my arm. I will need stitches. Would I get stitches in an ambulance?”

Officer: “No, you—”

Me: “Exactly; an ambulance would be no better than a taxi. Also, it’s rush hour. A tiny car like this–” *points at my Smart car* “–gets me through the traffic. Now, I have more urgent matters to attend to in the hospital over there.” *points 300 yards away* “If you have any more questions, ask me during triage.”

Officer: “You can go now. This time only, you can use the bus lane for turning into the hospital.”

Me: “You don’t need to tell me.”

(In the hospital, I am given six stitches immediately. Then, the following happens:)

Me: “The cop tried to tell me I should have waited on an ambulance. You’re the medic. Would it have made any difference if I got an ambulance?”

Nurse: “Not in the slightest.”

Me: “And was I in a fit state to drive?”

Nurse: “Perfectly. Keep it dry, and the stitches out in two weeks.”

Me: “Thank you, sir.”

(Police later told me they don’t investigate dog attacks at all, even though I was hospitalised and I have the name and address. Where do these people get their priorities from?)

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Unfiltered Story #120915

, , , | Unfiltered | September 12, 2018

(I am with my family for a weekend to celebrate my dad’s birthday. We decide to do a guided tour of a popular tourist attraction. My wife works there but today is her day off. We arrive for the tour and meet the guide, who obviously knows my wife.)

My Wife: *to tour guide* “Hello [guide]!”

Guide: *to my wife* “Hi [Wife]! You’re here with your family then?”

My Wife: “Yes, these are my parents-in-law:” *gestures to my parents* “And this is my husband [My Name].” *gestures to me*

Guide: “Oh hello [My Name]! [Wife] has told me a lot about you!”

Me: “Oh really? Has it all been good? Because if it’s been all good, then it’s all lies!”

(The guide laughs and my wife rolls her eyes.)

My wife (to tour guide): Don’t worry, if he gets annoying just leave him somewhere! *she and the guide both laugh*

Me (to my wife): Hey, come on! You’ve been trying that for 5 years now and it NEVER works! *laughing now too*

My dad: Yeah well, she’s not trying hard enough!

We all laugh. I love my family!