Nacho Going To Get Five Stars

, , , , | Right | April 8, 2019

(I am a rideshare driver. I’ve picked up a group of young girls in the back, and they’re eating something. I assume it’s just chips.)

Girl #1: *leaving* “Thanks for the ride, sir!” *hops out*

Girl #2: *following her* “Yeah, thank you!”

Girl #3: “By the way, it’s okay! It’s not vomit!” *leaves*

Me: *watches them leave and then stares for a few minutes* “What the h*** did that mean?” *checks the back seat* “Holy s***!”

(The entire back of the car was smeared with nacho sauce. It was absolutely disgusting, and I now knew why the girl wanted to assure me that it wasn’t vomit. There was cheese smeared up and down the seats, across the doors, on the back, etc. It was awful, and it started to smell. I had to get it cleaned out immediately. That was a very weird encounter.)

It’s Always An Abandoned Warehouse

, , , , , | Romantic | April 8, 2019

(My spouse works delivering and picking up medical supplies from individuals, usually homes. I call him most days to tell him how my day is going and what the baby is up to and to talk to him about how his day is going.)

Spouse: “The GPS says it’s this dilapidated old building.”

Me: “That’s weird.”

Spouse: “It’s a taxidermist.”

Me: “Now you’re just making things up.”

Spouse: “No, it really is! Maybe they work here. I’m going to go knock.”

Me: “I’m never going to see you again. A gang of kids and a Great Dane are going to have to solve the mystery of your disappearance.”

Spouse: “I’ll be right back.”

(He calls me back a few minutes later.)

Me: “You survived?”

Spouse: “It was abandoned. There was a dead bird in the window.”

Me: “Oh, well, oka— Of course there was a dead bird in the window! It’s a taxidermist, not a pet shop!”

Spouse: “No, I mean a real dead bird!”

Me: *laughing*

“Nice Guys” Usually Aren’t

, , , , , , | Romantic | April 7, 2019

(Parking around the university is scarce and expensive, but there is a train that stops on campus that has free parking lots farther away. After a long day of classes, I head home. I have a really heavy backpack, so I’m relieved to see there is one seat left. As it takes a few minutes to get to my stop, I pull out a book to try and squeeze in a few more pages. Almost as soon as I sit down, the guy sitting in the window seat next to me is suddenly looking very squirrely, and turns in his seat towards me.)

Guy: “Um, uhh…”

Me: “Oh, is this your stop?” *preparing to stand up and let him out*

Guy: “NO! Don’t get up! Uh, I mean, you’re fine.”

Me: “Oh, all right, then.” *looks back down at my book*

Guy: “Um, hey, whatcha reading?”

Me: *after briefly explaining the synopsis* “If you like science fiction, it’s a really good one so far. I can’t put it down.”

(The guy just gives me a blank look and grunts, so I just smile and return to reading. I don’t even make it through another sentence before he pipes up again.)

Guy: “You’re really pretty.”

(I chuckle uncomfortably.)

Guy: “And you chose to sit next to me, out of all the other seats you could have taken… I can’t believe this is happening to me. I finally have a girlfriend!”

(Thankfully, just then, my stop is coming up, so I snatch up my backpack and quickly get up.)

Me: “Er, there actually weren’t any other seats… Anyway, have a nice day.”

(The guy, who up until now has been very soft-spoken, is suddenly so loud that it startles the other passengers.)

Guy: “Oh. OH. OH, so you’re just leaving, then?!”

Me: “Well, this is where I left my car, so… yeah.”

Guy: *overly sarcastic tone* “WHATEVER. I see how it is. You’re just like every other c*** looking for a free hand out, expecting guys to just give you seats because of your rack.”

Me: “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that seat belongs to the city. And I bought a ticket.”

(The guy opened his mouth to say something else, but the doors opened and I got out. As I walked towards the car park he stared at me out the window, glaring daggers and mouthing words, oblivious to the other passengers all turning in their seats at this spectacle. I was pretty nervous about running into him on the train again since I caught the same one every day, but luckily I never did. He probably thinks he’s a nice guy, not the reason why those red panic buttons are installed.)

He’s Far From The Shallow Now

, , , , | Healthy | April 7, 2019

(My grandfather has fallen, hit his head hard, and had a stroke. Doctors are trying to figure out if the stroke he had caused the fall or if he fell so hard that it caused a stroke. Shortly after he is transferred to the stroke ward from the ICU, the doctor is asking my grandfather some questions to check his mental condition.)

Doctor: “Do you know what year it is?”

Grandfather: “Lady Gaga.”

Doctor: *slight pause* “Okay, but do you know the year?”

Grandfather: “2029.”

(Unfortunately, he wasn’t joking with his responses, but his doctors say he is making a good recovery even though he’s not quite sure what year we’re in.)

Bad Times At The El Royale

, , , | Right | April 5, 2019

(It is midnight and I’m a female working in a hotel alone. I’ve been doing so for many years, so I’m used to it, but I’ve gotten a LOT of weirdos during late night and early morning hours. However, this one tops them all by far. He’s a normal looking guy in his late 40s, with a very direct stare.)

Weirdo: “Hello. I’m checking in.”

Me: “Certainly, sir.” *goes through the check-in process* “Have you ever stayed with us before?”

Weirdo: “No, but I have to tell you that some men might be here to kill me.”

Me: “I’m s-sorry? What you say?”

Weirdo: *seriously, looking me dead in the eye* “I said, someone might come later to kill me. I have important documents that incriminate President Trump. He might send an assassin. If they come, don’t resist. If they tell you to lie down, don’t argue; just do it. Show your hands to them.”

Me: *stammering* “Uh, are you serious? Are you joking?”

Weirdo: “I’m not joking, young lady. If you don’t want to die, just do as they say, and you won’t. Probably. I’m not afraid to die, so just tell them my room number.”

Me: *trying to compose myself* “I’m sorry, sir, but we can’t let dangerous people in here. We have to protect our guests.”

Weirdo: “Then have security deal with them.”

(We have no security; as I said, it’s just me. He looks at me with pity and leaves, uttering warnings. I spend the whole night freaking out that some masked man will come in with a gun like in the movies. I just pray and hope the weirdo was crazy and nothing will happen. He seemed completely serious and not crazy or on drugs, but nothing happens, thank God. In the morning, my coworker arrives to relieve me.)

Coworker: “Hey, how’s last night?”

Me: “You wouldn’t believe what happened. I checked in this old guy and he told me that another guy was coming to kill him!”

Coworker: “HUH?”

(I explained everything and my coworker just stared at me with his jaw on the floor. Now, my coworker isn’t a skinny little coward, he’s buff and tall and grew up in a bad neighborhood.)

Coworker: “You should’ve called the police! That’s a threat!”

Me: “And what? Tell them that some weirdo said a guy with a gun’ll come? They’ll laugh.”

Coworker: “They’ll come; they have to take any threats seriously.”

Me: “I guess. But I just didn’t want any other guest seeing them and asking questions.”

Coworker: *shaking head* “Next time, call them. Or the GM.”

(The GM was told and was equally shocked. She told the weird man to get out and not to come back. The man left without a fuss. The man’s family came later and wasn’t surprised that he’d been kicked out. “That’s just how he is,” they said when they learned that he freaked us out. And why are you letting him out in public?)

Page 4/239First...23456...Last