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This Lesson Really Blows

, , , , | Working | September 14, 2021

I have submitted a few stories about my father-in-law, including this one. This story is really about a gentleman that worked for my father-in-law.

Like many construction jobs, the one where this took place needed someone who was a demolitions expert in order to blow up some huge boulders that were in the way of a planned road and bridge. My father-in-law had a friend who served with him in Vietnam who was one of the best. He knew how to set the explosives to blow up the boulders in the safest way possible and the exact amount needed to do it on the first try.  

My father-in-law walked into the explosives shed to let his buddy know the site was cleared and ready for him to put out the C4 — an explosive that has the consistency of Play-Doh. On the desk was what looked like clay formed in the shape of animals like bears, cats, and dogs.  

Father-In-Law: “Ummm, [Friend], why have you molded the explosives in the shapes of animals?”

Friend: *In monotone* “It helps me deal.”

My father-in-law backed out of the shed and never went back in for the rest of the job. He never said anything else because the guy was great at what he did and had a perfect safety record. But every time something was blown up, my father-in-law couldn’t help but laugh a bit.

Related:
This Lesson Really Bites
This Lesson Really Stings, Part 3
This Lesson Really Stings, Part 2
This Lesson Really Stings

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And A Slight Sprinkling Of Homosexuality

, , , | Right | September 14, 2021

I’m working as a waitress. Our restaurant has a small booth table which only seats two people, so it usually contains couples on a date.

I am serving two girls sitting at this table, and they each order a small bowl of ice cream.

On a whim, I ask:

Me: “Would you like sprinkles on your ice creams?”

[Girl #1]’s eyes light up and she enthusiastically answers.

Girl #1: “Yes!”

We all laugh a little, before [Girl #2] suddenly exclaims:

Girl #2: “We’re not lesbians, though!”

“Sprinkles = lesbians” turned into a long-running inside joke with my coworker, after we spent the rest of the night wondering what prompted her to clarify their sexualities.

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Either She Doesn’t Exist, Or She Came To Her Senses

, , , , , , | Right | September 13, 2021

I work in a bridal boutique. I take an appointment; the caller to book the appointment is the groom. That in itself is not too unusual, but the rest of the conversation is.

Groom: “My fiancée and I are getting married in six months and she hasn’t tried on any dresses at all yet. She says she’s not really a dress kind of girl, but I really want her to wear a dress to our wedding. I think if you have her try some on, she’ll see how pretty she looks and change her mind.”

We get this from a lot of friends and family — usually, the Mother of the Bride — and our policy is to offer styles to the bride and let her pick what she wants to try on.

Me: “Sure, we can schedule an appointment for her to work with a consultant and browse our samples. She can try on any styles she’d like so she can get a sense of what she feels best in. Can I ask for a little more information about your wedding date and preferred budget, or should we ask her when she comes in?”

Groom: “No, no, you can ask me. She doesn’t want to try on dresses, so I’m making the appointments so she can’t get out of it.”

Me: “We do have some dress alternatives, like bridal jumpsuits or separates, so hopefully we can find something that’s close to her personal style.”

Groom: “Do you have anything in her size?”

Me: “We carry samples in mid-range sizes to fit up or down and gauge how a fitted dress will look, and then we can order her the dress or outfit she chooses in her size based on her measurements.”

Groom: “Well, I don’t know; she’s really fit and toned.”

He goes into a long description of her Pilates routine.

Groom: “She needs something that will be flattering on her and I want her in something fitted to her figure.”

Me: “We can easily size most styles down with clips so she can see how they’ll look in her size, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Groom: “She needs something that shows off her figure. She has a really nice figure; she wears a lot of fitted pants and high heels.”

At this point, I’ve stepped away from the reservation computer and am leaning against the wall, holding the phone with a baffled look on my face. My coworker has stopped her paperwork and is staring at me strangely since this side of the conversation has gone so quiet.

Groom: “…and she has really large breasts for her size. She wears a DDD cup so she needs something that will show them off…”

Me: *Desperately trying to interject* “That’s fine. We’ll take her measurements once she finds a style she likes—”

Groom: *No indication that he’s heard me.* “…she prefers [Brand] lingerie and she wears a lot of demi-cut black lace…”

I’ve completely slid down the wall at this point and am basically sitting on the floor, holding the phone.

Me: “That’s great! I have all the information I need, and we can sit down for a chat when she comes in for the appointment!”

Groom: “You’ll be able to make her try on dresses that will fit her and look good on her figure?”

Me: “Uh-huh. I’m sure we can find something that she likes!”

Groom: “Okay, good, because she really doesn’t want to wear a dress and I want to make sure she shows off her figure…”

At this point, I was considering a followup drink for every time he described her figure.

I finally wrapped up the call, confirmed the booking, and considered going home to take a long shower to scrub the call off my skin.

I wrote minimal notes in the appointment field to avoid scaring off consultants working that day. I just mentioned that the groom may be in attendance and he had some preferences but, so far, the bride didn’t seem too sold on a traditional dress. I made a mental note to try and be available around that time for support, as well.

We confirmed the appointment with the contact information given to us — the groom’s phone and email — in advance of their time frame but, wouldn’t you know it, the appointment was a no-show. At this point, we seriously started to doubt the bride existed outside of his imagination!

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You’re Not Even My First Pimp Daddy Of The Night

, , , , , | Right | September 12, 2021

I work at a grab-and-go pizza place. Two guys come up around midnight, obviously having a good time. The first guy points to his friend.

Guy #1: “My pimp daddy is paying for my slice.”

Me: “All right. That will be [total].”

Guy #2: *Laughing* “She didn’t even blink!

Me: “I’ve worked here for four years, through every holiday and sport event.”

Guy #1: “Fair enough.”

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At Least She Didn’t Say, “Your Soul,” Or Something Creepy Like That

, , , , , | Related | September 12, 2021

For my birthday, my husband volunteered to supervise a sleepover with our kids and my best friend’s kids so that my best friend and I could have a night away with no responsibilities. We had fun, the kids had a blast, and my husband got a funny story when he found my best friend’s five-year-old wandering the hall at one in the morning.

Husband: “Is everything okay? Do you need something?”

Five-Year-Old: “I’m just… I’m looking…”

Husband: “Can I help you find something?”

Five-Year-Old: “I’m looking for my most favorite thing in the world.”

Husband: “What is it?”

Five-Year-Old: *Wide-eyed, deadpan* “I DON’T KNOW.”

She eventually wandered back to bed, and to this day, we have no idea what her favorite thing is.

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