Groomed For Success

, , , , , | Working | November 20, 2017

(My coworkers are chatting in the staff room when I arrive.)

Coworker #1: “It’s not hard; you just have to be patient, you know? A hug here, a pat on the back there, and back off if they get uncomfortable. Keep pushing their limits, but not so much that you push them away. Slow and steady, and you’ll get there eventually.” *notices me watching* “Oh, hey, [My Name]. What’s up?”

Me: “This is what I get for walking in in the middle of the conversation. You’re either breaking in a shy house pet or grooming a molestation victim.”

([Coworkers #2 and #3] chuckle, while [Coworker #4] chokes on his drink. [Coworker #1] sighs patiently.)

Coworker #1: “I’m helping a friend of mine overcome his social anxiety.”

Me: *nodding sagely* “Grooming a victim it is, then.”

([Coworker #1] responded with something that was almost certainly extremely vulgar, but at that point, all of us, including him, were laughing too hard for me to make him out.)

Transpetting

, , , , | Working | November 19, 2017

(I love cats. I had two, and last summer my mother-in-law surprised me with a third one. She very adamantly wanted to find us a long-haired kitten, and ultimately adopted a little Maine Coon-mix girl… or so we thought. Because of “her” long hair concealing the, uh, back bits, we don’t notice “she” is a “he” until shortly before his first vet visit at six months. At the vet, we go through the standard first-time visit procedure, answering questions about his health, diet, behaviour, etc. We continuously catch ourselves referring to the cat as “she,” and explain the mix-up to the vet, thinking it’s a funny and probably somewhat common occurrence.)

Vet’s Assistant: “She’s trans.”

(We smile at that. She doesn’t smile back. She is dead serious.)

Vet’s Assistant: “No, I mean it. She’s trans.”

(It stopped being cute immediately and started to become concerning. How in the h*** do you get to be a veterinary assistant and still think that a cat has ANY idea about gender and transgenderism?!)

Needs To Bathe In A Bit More Sleep

, , , , , | Related | November 18, 2017

(My sister is always on what I call “HER time.” This means that she’ll call or talk to you when it’s convenient for her. To this day, she still doesn’t pay attention to the time difference between us and will call at a good time for her but a terrible time for me. When we were living under the same roof, she used to do this when I was napping. This results in one exchange when I am napping after an opening shift.)

Sister: “[My Name], wake up.”

Me: *groans*

Sister: “[My Name], come on. You have to show me how to do that thing with my iPod.”

Me: *mumbles something*

Sister: “[My Name]!”

Me: *whispers* “Bathing cap.”

Sister: “What?”

Me: “BATHING… CAP!”

Sister: *giggling* “Why do I need a bathing cap for my iPod?”

Me: “Well, you want to change your outfit, don’t you?”

(Thankfully, my sister decided to let me sleep after this, and I woke up later with no recollection of this happening.)

 

Reach For The Stars, Just Not Mine

, , , , , , , , | Right | November 17, 2017

(I’m out picking a few things up at the local supermarket when I begin to hear a woman ranting loudly at an employee. After about a minute of yelling, I go to investigate.)

Customer: “You’re going straight to Hell for wearing that kind of thing! Satanist! SATANIST!”

(The employee looks to be about 16, and is stocking some shelves. Her protests go unheard, but she is soldiering on, even though I can tell she is about to cry.)

Customer: “It’s witch-scum like you who are calling the devil into our city. You make me sick, wearing a pentagram! Devil w****! DEVIL W****!”

Employee: “Ma’am, for the last—”

(She is cut off by another burst of ranting. I start to walk over. The employee turns to me and I see that her necklace is not, in fact, a pentagram at all.)

Me: “Ma’am, that is enough. Leave this poor girl alone. You should be ashamed of yourself!”

Customer: *sneering* “And what are you? Her witch-lord? Going to cast a spell on a good Christian woman like me? DEMONSPAWN!”

Me: “Ma’am, I am not a ‘witch-lord.’ I’m someone who can tell the difference between a pentagram and a STAR OF DAVID, which you, apparently, cannot!”

(The customer went white as a sheet and reexamined the necklace. She left, running. The employee was still near tears, but kept it together.)

Open Your Throat

, , , | Right | November 17, 2017

(I’m a 16-year-old girl working the closing shift at my restaurant, and it’s about half an hour to closing. We’re pretty much done and I’m walking back from the front of the store when I see a large man standing outside in the dark. While I’m watching, he points at me, and then makes a threatening motion over his throat with the same finger. Terrified, I shrug at him, hurry to the back room, and start to tell my coworker, when the bell rings.)

Coworker: “[My Name], can you get that?”

Me: *still scared* “Sure.”

(I go out and it’s the man from outside. At this point, I’m scared that I’m actually in danger, and trying to get my coworker’s attention just in case something happens, when the customer speaks up with a heavy accent.)

Customer: “You are open?”

Me: “Yes, what can I get for you?”

Customer: *smiling and doing the throat-cutting motion again* “When I do this, it means, ‘Are you still open?’”

(I don’t know where he was from where that would mean that! He’s since become a late night regular, but I still get a little anxious every time he comes in.)

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