Reaching New Tea Totals

, , , , | Right | April 24, 2021

I walk into my favorite tea shop in the early afternoon and am greeted by the owner.

Owner: “Well! Glad to see you… You’re our seventh customer today!”

They’ve been open since nine am.

Me: “Well, you’d better get your restroom breaks while you can. You know what happens when I come in.”  

We’ve been joking about how every time I come in, they immediately get slammed. The owner’s husband replies as he goes into the restroom.

Owner’s Husband: “You snooze, you lose.”

I get a cup of the tea they’re sampling and then go about picking out my teas to refill my stash as we chat.

Just as the last of the shop’s staff goes into the restroom and the owner’s husband is weighing and bagging my tea, the door opens and two groups come in — about seven people.

The owner helps one group and her employee helps another. Several more groups come in.

By the time I’ve been there for twenty minutes, the shop is packed. People keep coming up and asking me about various black teas.

Customer: “Thanks! I will get all these. Can you ring me up?”

Me: “Just take it over to the register.”

Customer: “But we want you to get the credit.”

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t have a register login because I don’t actually work here.”

Customer: “Oh! I’m sorry!”

Me: “If it bothered me, I would have made an excuse and escaped!”

I was doing that for over an hour. When everyone finally cleared out, they had made more than $1,500 in that hour! They’d been under $100 when I walked in.

They gave me my tea for free; they said I’d earned it.


This story is part of our Best Of April 2021 roundup!

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I Once Knew A Woman Who…

, , , , , , , , | Right | April 22, 2021

As a healthcare worker and, you know, a relatively intelligent human being, I have done my absolute best to stick to the “rules” throughout the many lockdowns. I am shopping for some fruit and veg, and have thoroughly sanitised my hands and basket, donned gloves, and am keeping my 1.5m away from everyone.

At the checkout, I am just exchanging a couple of words with the cashier when a fly buzzes past my open mouth and I manage to inhale the thing. I instantly start involuntarily coughing and choking, and before I can drop my shopping and get my face into my elbow where it belongs, I let out two massive coughs all in the direction of the cashier.

Between coughing and trying to breathe, I attempt to talk.

Me: “Oh, my God, I am so sorry! I just inhaled a fly! I’m sorry!”

I notice the five other people waiting nearby who are looking at me like I have the plague.

Me: “I’m so sorry! I inhaled a fly!”

I grabbed my shopping and ran away into the open space of the car park to finish my revolting coughing spell and hope the fly would come out with it. Gross.

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It’s As Easy As Learning To Eat A Burger

, , , , , , , , | Right | April 22, 2021

I work at a bicycle store. A man about a decade my senior comes in asking for yellow handlebar tape. I show him our selection, which includes a bright yellow. He happily grabs some and explains that he is making a “hamburger bike.” 

His bike’s frame is dark brown — the beef patty. The pedals and helmet are lighter brown, for the bun. His tires are bright green, for lettuce; his seat is darker green, for the pickles; his red rear reflector and white front reflector are ketchup and mayonnaise, respectively. The yellow handlebar tape is to be mustard.

While I am confused why he’s decided that “burger” was the perfect aesthetic for a bicycle, his excitement is contagious. He goes on to tell me that he needs orange for cheese; yellow or white would be redundant, you see. I dig around in an order of new stock and find him an orange water bottle and holder that he can screw to his bike frame.

With his hamburger (or cheeseburger, now, I suppose) bike thus perfected, he rides off a happy man. If only every customer were so pleasant and easy to please!


This story is part of our Feel Good roundup for April 2021!

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Fishing For A Reason To Scream

, , , , , | Friendly | April 21, 2021

I care for three small children; the eldest is a three-year-old boy. One day, I take them for a walk around a local park, and the eldest becomes fascinated by the people fishing along the river for the opening weekend of the fishing season. As he asks excited questions, some of the fishers turn to answer him and let him see their catches and do things like hold their nets.

As we continue, the eldest asks if we can go fishing, too, and I tell him he can only pretend to fish today. To go fishing for real, he needs to talk to his parents and they will have to get a bunch of stuff.

Boy: “Like what?”

Me: “Oh, a fishing pole and hook, you’ll need bait, and you’ll have to get a fishing license…”

A man on the shore screams a curse, turns, and charges at us.

Man: “That’s bulls***! Don’t listen to that. Why would you need permission? Fishing licenses are just bureaucratic bulls***. Why the h*** do you think you need to get anyone’s permission to go out in the world? Do you really believe all that?”

The rant continues, but at no point is it directed at me; he is screaming at the three-year-old. The kid is startled and tries to hide behind me, but the man rounds me and tries to get closer, spitting without a mask.

Me: “Okay… I was just talking to him. We are on a walk. Could you back up?”

The man ignores me, still getting closer, yelling at the preschooler about government overstepping and his personal viewpoints.

Man: “There’s no one who can take my right to take fish from where God put them for me. They don’t need to track my name! They don’t own me; they don’t own you!”

There was definitely something unhinged about him, and as he got angrier and louder, he was scaring all three children, and the babies started to cry. I scooped up the boy and started pushing the stroller with the other children away, telling the man to please leave us alone. It was slow going between carrying the squirming kid one-handed and pushing the double stroller.

It’s at this moment that one of the oldest fishermen suddenly appeared beside me, whispered that he was a retired policeman, and asked if he could take over pushing the stroller. At the same time, two other fishermen stepped between the yelling man and us. They were trying to distract or placate him, but he was literally yelling over them at us.

Thankfully, with the help of the retired policeman, we got some space between us, but I now found myself on the far side of the river from my car. The policeman told me he wasn’t comfortable allowing me back toward the yelling man, as he was obviously unwell and had a holstered weapon. Instead, I took the kids and hid inside a locked public restroom until he gave me the all-clear.

Apparently, the cops were called to diffuse the situation, and they ultimately got the yelling man to leave because, unsurprisingly, he was fishing without a license. Still, I got an escort back to my car, and the policeman pointed out that it was a man-made river that was stocked with fish… by the government.

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We Can Only Draw One Conclusion: SHE’S A WITCH!

, , , , , , | Learning | April 21, 2021

My two best friends and I are in sixth grade — age twelve — and have a mandatory art class. We are spending a week drawing houses. Our first assignment is to draw our own house.

[Friend #1] draws her house, but she forgets to draw one of her parents’ bedroom windows. That night, it storms very badly, and a tree falls in such a way that the window she forgot to draw is broken by a tree branch crashing through it.

The next day, we are supposed to draw a house that exists and that we wished we lived in. [Friend #1] draws [Friend #2]’s house, but she forgets to draw the garage. The previous night’s storm had affected the soil of the hill beside that house, and [Friend #2] comes home to find that a tree has fallen on the (empty!) garage. 

The next day, we are supposed to draw the house of a friend. 

Friend #1: “I guess I’ll draw your house, [My Name].”

Me: “Nope! Not allowed! No, thank you, please! I like my house perfectly intact and how it is, thank you very much!”

Friend #1: “But I already drew [Friend #2’s] house!”

Friend #2: “Yeah, and look what happened to it! And what happened to your house! If you forget to draw anything at [My Name’s] house, we won’t be able to go to her sleepover this weekend.”

Me: “Hey, weren’t you friends with [Former Classmate] before she moved?”

Friend #1: “Yeah, why?”

Me: “My mom’s coworker bought it, and Mom said they’re tearing it down so they can build their dream house! So if you mess it up with your weird drawing power, it won’t matter!”

Friend #1: “I don’t think I had anything to do with the garage or the windows, but fine, whatever.”

[Friend #1] draws [Former Classmate]’s house, forgetting to draw the sizable front deck. That house is on a very busy road, right across from a T-intersection. As my mom picks me up from school, she tells me we are taking a different way home than usual.

Mom: “Yeah, it’s a good thing [Former Classmate] moved! Someone crashed into her house and destroyed the deck.”

I call [Friend #1] when I get home and relay the information. 

Friend #1: “Okay, you know what? Fine. I thought you and [Friend #2] were just being weird about all this, but I guess I have to believe you. I’m drawing made-up houses the rest of the week.”

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