Was About To Have A Face Off

, , , , , , | Related | October 6, 2019

(I’ve just had all four wisdom teeth pulled. My grandma is driving me home, and since I don’t remember, tells me my antics the next day.)

Grandma: “What’s wrong? You look sad!”

Me: “I want my face back!”

Grandma: “What?”

Me: “The dentist took my face!”

Grandma: “What do you mean?!”

(I’m nearly in tears at this point.)

Me: “They said they’d only take my teeth! But my face is gone!”

Grandma: “How do you know your face is gone?”

Me: “I can’t feel it anymore! They took my face!”

(My grandma has to pull over due to laughing so hard. She pulls down the mirror to prove I do, in fact, still have my face. I start crying out of sheer joy.)


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Diners Of The Corn

, , , , | Right | October 5, 2019

(I work at a fast food chain when I’m in high school. I’m from a rural town in the middle of Illinois. This takes place in late summer, when the corn has grown up really tall. Despite being right off the interstate, our town doesn’t have a lot of commercial development, so our restaurant is right next to a cornfield. In this story, I have some out of town customers come in.)

Customer #1: *to her friends* “Oh. My. God. Did you guys see the corn?!” *to me* “IS THAT CORN?! That’s corn, right?”

Me: “Oh! Uh, yes?”

Customer #2: “Oh, my God! Where are we?”

Me: “Um… [Town].”

Customer: “I mean, what state?”

(We are in the middle of Illinois; they have to have been driving at least an hour, depending on which way they came from.)

Me: “Illinois?”

Customer #1: “I thought, like, only Kansas and Iowa had cornfields!”

(They finally order and take their food to go.)

Me: *to my coworkers* “Uh, guys?”

Coworker: “Yeah?”

Me: “Are they… Are they taking pictures of themselves… in the corn?”

Coworker: “Yep. Get used to it.”

Me: “I wish I got excited about cornfields like that. Instead, I have to brace myself for a deer jumping out of them!”

(And that is when I learned that you can truly be a tourist anywhere! Even a fast food parking lot!)

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Something Fishy About His Ticket  

, , , | Right | October 4, 2019

(I work at a reggae festival every year with some family and friends. We usually have our shift at the entrance, where we check if people wanting to get in have the correct wristband to be allowed in, or if they have a correct form of prepayment, scan that and give them a wristband before letting them in. Without a correct wristband or prepayment form, they are not allowed in. This happens during a rather quiet moment of few people coming through my lane at the entrance.)

Me: “Hi there.”

Customer: “Hi. Can I come in?”

Me: “I see you’re not wearing the wristband. Did you prepay online? Because if so, show me the form and I can give you a wristband.”

Customer: “Nope.”

(The customer just keeps staring at me for a moment.)

Me: “All right… You can go there to get your wristband, then. It will cost [amount] and I can let you through when you come back wearing it.”

(I point in the direction he needs to go. He, however, looks that way, turns back to me, stares for a moment, and speaks up again.)

Customer: “Can you let me in if I give you a fish?”

Me: “Sorry, what?”

Customer: “A fish!”

(The customer proceeds to open his backpack and take out a living goldfish in a small plastic bag filled with water.)

Me: *taken aback slightly* “Where did you even get that?”

(The customer doesn’t say anything; he just seems to point in a general direction.)

Me: “Sorry, man, no. Can’t let you in. You should go get a wristband there.”

Customer: “Bummer.”

(The customer then sat down next to the entrance, until a moment that one of the lanes was abandoned because the wristband checker there had to do something quickly and the guy just ran through. People like me are not allowed to physically stop or chase people; that’s what we have a security guard for. The security guard looked at the dude sprinting and followed him with his eyes running all the way out of sight around a corner, at which points he slowly got up, let out a loud sigh, and started walking in the direction the guy had run in. Fish dude got free entrance that day.)


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Stolen Broken Bowling Balls

, , | Right | October 2, 2019

(This story belongs to my brother, who is also my manager at the bowling alley where I work. This lady comes in demanding his help.)

Lady: “I need help! My car was stolen!”

Brother: “Your car was stolen?”

Lady: “Yes, come here!”

(They go outside and the lady points to her car.)

Brother: “Um, I thought you said it was stolen.”

Lady: “No, it’s broken! I need your help to fix it.”

Brother: “Well, ma’am, I’m not mechanically proficient. You’re going to need to call someone.”

Lady: “No, I need you to fix it.”

Brother: “Okay, what’s wrong with it?”

Lady: “There’s a bowling ball that is preventing it from starting.”

Brother: “Well… um… Okay, where’s the bowling ball?”

Lady: “In the trunk.”

Brother: “Well, why don’t you open the trunk and get it out?”

Lady: “I don’t know how.”

(My brother then opens the trunk and gets the bowling ball and she gets her “broken car” running.)

Brother: “Will that be all?”

Lady: “No, I want to go bowling.”

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Must Be All The Churros

, , , , | Right | October 1, 2019

(I’ve been talking on the phone all day at this point, upgrading glucometers all day for grumpy diabetics.)

Me: “Hello, is [Patient] available? I’m calling so I can send out her upgraded glucometer. Is she the diabetic?”

Customer: “No, SHE’S MEXICAN!” *hangs up*

(Totally made my day.)

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