I’m the author of this story, back with another strange happening.

We decide to eat Chinese, so I look up their website. This is around 2005, so the site is one of the Geocities monstrosities the time was famous for: just a huge title, some scrolling text, an iframe with a PDF containing a scan of the paper menu, and a phone number below. This being Geocities, the site is encircled in all directions by all kinds of flashing, moving, jumping ads.

I call the number and am greeted by an annoyed woman.

Woman: “Yes?”

Me: “Is this [Restaurant]? I’d like to order [meal numbers].”

Woman: *Angry* “Who are you? How did you get this phone number?!”

Me: “I found it on your website.”

Woman: “We don’t have a website!”

Me: “I’m looking at it right now.”

Woman: “That’s impossible!”

Me: “The URL is [URL].”

Woman: “IM-POS-SI-BLE!”

After some discussion, she calmed down and, a bit grumpily, decided to accept my order. We drove over to pick it up.

The place was empty, except for one table with an Asian boy of about twelve eating a very not-Chinese-looking pizza while gaming on his laptop. We went to the woman behind the bar and explained that we’d phoned them. The boy overheard it and said something to the woman in — presumably — Chinese. Back and forth it went. Finally, he explained.

It turned out that he had made the site for his parent’s restaurant. But the parents never really understood what he did, and he used their personal phone for the restaurant.

Related:
We Wish This Author Understood Chinese!

During my college career, we had a final done on class computers. We got two hours to do our things, the teacher would grade us, and then the TA would lock the workstation, I assume so that they could save our work should someone want to challenge their grade, and reset the workstation for the next student.

I was good at that course, but sadly, during the exam, I had a visit from the blackout monster. I couldn’t remember how to do anything.

After two hours, the teacher came over to grade it.

Teacher: “Oh, wow. This is… this is not a good final. What happened, [My Name]? You’re usually one of my best students in the class.”

Me: “Sorry, I know, but I had a blackout.”

Teacher: “Oh, no. That won’t do; you’ll get a three out of twenty if we leave it like that.”

She turned to the TA in front of the classroom.

Teacher: “Hey, [TA]! Do not lock this PC. There is something wrong with it. [My Name] gets an extra hour to make up for the mistake.”

She turned back to me.

Teacher: “Now you can try and get some more points.”

Me: “Thanks, but I doubt an hour will do much good; I can’t remember anything.”

Teacher: “Won’t hurt to try, right?”

After a while, the teacher passed me again to grade the person next to me. She looked over to my screen and then spoke to the student in the biggest fake stage whisper.

Teacher: “Ah, yes, I see you used the Tabbed Pane solution for question two.” *The one I happened to be struggling with* “This is the correct method; you should get full marks for this solution.”

She saw me struggling some more.

Teacher: “Yes, I see you clearly didn’t have any problems finding the Tabbed Pane option — you know, the thing you’ll find if you click on the third button from the left on the toolbar — and then you clearly chose the fifth option from the drop-down list. Good on you.”

That not-so-subtle hint got me over my blackout and I managed to raise my grade to a thirteen out of twenty. Thank you, [Teacher], for realizing I’d had a blackout!

I’m waiting in line at a cash register. Apparently, the person checking out has some issue with the price and is going over the receipt with the cashier. The man in front of me and the woman in front of him are huffing and puffing about it.

Woman: “If everyone is going over their receipt, it will take ages!”

Man: “Yeah, I don’t understand what’s so difficult. I hate people who are too lazy to look at the price tag before they come to the register.”

This continues for about a minute, and then another cash register opens up. The man and I move to that register. The cashier scans his item.

Cashier: “That will be €3.”

Man: “What? How can it be that much?! Let me see the receipt!”

I turn to the person behind me, who was also behind me in the other line and heard all the moaning about the other guy at the register.

Me: “Don’t you just hate people who are too lazy to look at the price tag before they come to the register?”

A friend had asked me to accompany her to a family function as she couldn’t bring her significant other — more about that later — and she didn’t want to face her family alone. I agreed because, hey, free food, and I noticed she really could do with the moral support, and not going was not an option because of reasons. 

At the party, her grandfather took me aside.

Grandfather: “Don’t get your hopes up, son. [Friend] doesn’t swing that way.”

Me: *A bit startled* “Yes, sir, I know, but she was told by her mother not to bring her girlfriend because you and your wife could not cope with it.”

Grandfather: “Her mother said what?!” *A bit calmer* “Tell her to come around tomorrow with her girlfriend. I’ll deal with her mother.”

I don’t know how it went with her mother, but the visit went very well. Her grandparents liked her girlfriend a lot.

My dad is serving his time in the army. One time, they had to participate in a large exercise with multiple units. When all was said and done, they had to pack the material and return it to storage.

There was a checklist available, but this was mostly in code, i.e. number and letter combinations instead of an actual name/description. There was one item they had no clue what it was, so they put a remark next to it “lost in the long grass.”

They would have gotten away with it, were it not a giant radar installation… which was both difficult to oversee and accounted for.

Related:
A Lack Of Military Intelligence, Part 3
A Lack Of Military Intelligence, Part 2
A Lack Of Military Intelligence