The FDA Is Truly Evil

, , , , , , | Working | December 11, 2017

(I work for a company that makes products with laser scanners in them. This means annual inspections by the FDA’s department of devices and radiological health. After the inspector finally leaves:)

Me: “Darn, that guy was here all day, and I forgot to say, ‘Frickin’ laser beams!'”

Coworker: “I’m sure he’s heard it before.”

The Contrarian Vegetarian

, , , , , , , | Right | December 11, 2017

(I work in a sandwich shop. We’re close to closing, so the line’s glass case doors are covering the meats and vegetables. I open both when the customer arrives.)

Me: “Hello, ma’am. What can I get for you today?”

Customer: “Hi there. I’m vegetarian, so I can’t eat meat.”

Me: “That’s absolutely okay, ma’am. We have egg sandwiches, veggie sandwiches, and salads, and we also have a delicious vegetarian patty sandwich to offer you.”

Customer: “I know what I want, but I need you to clean your hands and the surfaces, because I can’t eat meat at all.”

(I rinse the food surfaces and the cutting knives, I clean my gloves, and I lower the glass case back over the meat since she’s made it clear it won’t be needed.)

Me: “Okay, ma’am. If that’s satisfactory for you, what kind of bread would you like?”

Customer: “Oh, the flatbread, please, half of one.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, and your sandwich choice?”

Customer: “A ham, thanks.”

(I stop in my tracks and I hear my coworker giggling in the back of the store.)

Me: “Uh… A ham, ma’am? We don’t have any vegetarian substitute ham.”

Customer: “No, I mean a regular ham.”

Me: “Ma’am, ham is pork meat. Are you sure that’s the sandwich you want to order?”

Customer: “Positive, thanks! Actually, can I have double meat on that?”

(I double-checked before ringing her up that she knew ham was a meat and unsuitable for vegetarians, and she was perfectly happy with that, apparently.)

Kalamazoo Versus Vindaloo

, , , , , , | Related | December 8, 2017

(I’m driving around on some errands with my boyfriend in the passenger seat next to me and my mom in the backseat. My mom has a tendency to say random things that she notices, out loud. My boyfriend is a bit of a jokester; usually I roll my eyes and call him a dork, but this particular day I’m more energetic than usual.)

Mom: “Huh, they tore down that building. Wonder why.”

Boyfriend: “They’re putting in a Kalamazoo.”

Mom: “A what?”

Boyfriend: “A Kalamazoo!”

Me: “Yeah, it’s a restaurant.”

Mom: “Oh. Haven’t heard of it. I wonder what type of food they’ll serve.”

Me: “It’s an Indian place.”

Mom: “Cool. We’ll have to try it when they’re done.”

(By this point my boyfriend and I couldn’t hold in our laughter and Mom realized we were messing with her. She started laughing, too, and called us brats.)

Good Pizza Is Worth Travelling For

, , , | Right | December 7, 2017

(I’m the customer in this story. My mom usually adds certain restaurants to her speed dial for convenience. On this specific occasion we have just gotten home from a long road trip.)

Employee: “Hello, [Pizza Place], Name please?”

Me: “Hi, my name is [My Name], and I’d like a medium pepperoni pizza, please, for pick-up.”

Employee: “Okay, Miss [My Name], it’ll be ready in about 15 minutes.”

(Fifteen minutes later, I drive to the nearest known location, only to be told that they don’t have my order or my phone number in their records. I check the number again.)

Me: “Hey, Mom. The number they provide and the one in your speed dial don’t match up.”

Mom: “Oh. Try calling them back maybe?”

Me: *already on phone with the place I had called* “Hello, it’s [My Name] again. Um, I have a stupid question. Where are you located?”

Employee: *sounding bemused* “We are located in [city about seven hours away].”

Me: *trying not to laugh* “I am so sorry, could you please cancel my order? I’m afraid I won’t be able to pick it up in time.”

Employee: “Sure thing, miss.”

Me: “Thank you, and have a wonderful day, sir.”

(After hanging up, I relay the story to my mom and we both have a giggle over it and how we’d have to drive a good seven hours for pizza. I then call the correct number.)

Me: “Hello, my name is [My Name]; are you located at [nearby street]?”

Employee: “Ma’am, you were here just five minutes ago.”

(I place my order, while containing my giggles, and go over to pick up my pizza. Out of embarrassment, I relay the story to the clerk in order to clear up the earlier confusion before paying for the pizza.)

Employee: “Well, that would’ve been one heck of a drive!”

How We Know You Care (Package)

, , , , | Hopeless | December 6, 2017

(One of my best friends has always been very grounded and calm. Outwardly, she’s not really affectionate or sentimental at all, but she’s just the kind of person who prefers actions over words, and is in fact a total den mom.)

Me: “Hey, you remember my coworker I told you about?”

Best Friend: “The one you only mention everyday? The one who must have been your twin in another lifetime? Nope, I’m drawing a blank.”

Me: “I know you guys will love her! Can we set up a movie day? I really want everyone to meet her.”

Best Friend: “I’m surprised we haven’t already.”

(My coworker is glad to hang out with us, but understandably self-conscious about being the new girl in a group who’ve all known each other for years. [Best Friend] is welcoming, but so laid back all the time that our new friend is nervous she might not care much for her, despite my reassurances. Fast forward a few weeks: We’ve all planned to go to the beach together, but we get a text from [New Friend] that morning.)

New Friend: “Hey, can’t come today. My dad had a stroke and died last night.”

(We all start flooding her with texts and calls to make sure she’s okay, but she doesn’t want to talk or see anyone. The only text [Best Friend] sends after a short time is:)

Best Friend: “I’m out, too.”

(It took days for us to find out that a couple hours later, [Best Friend] showed up at her apartment with a huge care package of groceries, tissue boxes, and items for [New Friend’s] puppy. When [New Friend] broke down, she stayed, let [New Friend] cry herself to sleep on her, walked the puppy, and started a big crock pot of stew that would last a few days so [New Friend] wouldn’t have to worry about “trivial and mundane” things (in [Best Friend’s] words) like food while she was mourning. [Best Friend] didn’t think to mention any of this to us until [New Friend] herself brought it up, and it cemented [New Friend’s] place in the group. She never again doubted how much [Best Friend] cared, we’ve all been friends since, and we no longer let [Best Friend] do things like that on her own without letting us pitch in.)

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