“Trippin’ Magazine” Would Be A Great Name For A Travel Publication

, , , | Right | April 2, 2020

(When I am eight years old, my father is the editor of a small literary magazine, which refers to a species of trout in its name. He brings me into the magazine’s office to supervise me. One night, he has to go off on an errand, leaving me alone. The phone rings, so I pick it up.)

Me: “Hello?”

Caller: “Yeah, can I get some red beans and rice?”

Me: “I’m sorry, this is a magazine. We don’t sell red beans and rice.”

Caller: “What? Girl, you trippin’. Can you deliver that to [address] in Los Angeles?”

(Los Angeles is hundreds of miles south of my location.)

Me: “Um, sorry. This is a magazine. We don’t make food.”

Caller: “You trippin’! Isn’t this the [Magazine]? That’s red beans and rice, okay?”

Me: “No, we really don’t make food. I think you have the wrong number.”

Caller: “You trippin’!”

(The caller hung up. I was confused, and didn’t understand what “trippin'” meant in this context for another couple of years!)

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April Is A Nice Name

, , , , , | Healthy | April 1, 2020

It is April Fool’s Day. I go into the hospital for a scheduled cesarean for my third child. Thanks to both a blood test and an ultrasound, we know we’re having a boy. The surgery starts, and it doesn’t go as expected.

Doctor: “Oh, wow, look at that!”

Surgical Tech: “Oh, my gosh.”

Me: “What?”

Doctor: “Okay, it’s a girl.”

Me & Husband: “What?”

Husband: “Did you say, ‘girl’?”

I just started laughing. And that’s how our daughter entered the world — by conning us into thinking she was going to be a boy, and revealing her true nature on April Fools Day. Well played, baby. Well played.

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Unfiltered Story #191273

, , , | Unfiltered | April 1, 2020

(I’m a shopper in this one)

Customer: Excuse me, do you accept EBT?

Me: I’m sorry, I don’t work here. I just happen to be wearing a blue shirt.

Customer: ……….WOW!

(As he stands there for a while, apparently astonished, I go about my shopping again. Then I hear the sound of things tumbling and breaking, and he reappears from another aisle, balancing at least a dozen energy drink cans. He bolts for the checkout, dropping two more on the way. I’m now behind him in line.)

Customer: someone spilled a bunch of energy drinks back there!

Clerk: Haha, yeah I’m SURE it was some guy. (She’s seems to think he’s joking around)

Customer: No, serious! Some guy came and spilled them!

Clerk: (her expression droops as she figures out he’s actually trying this juvenile excuse) Alright well… I’ll have one of the other associates go look. Do you have a [drug store] membership card?

Customer: Yes I do!

Clerk: Alright, go ahead and swipe it right here.

Customer: I don’t have a membership card.

Clerk: …Oh. Would you like to sign up for one to get a discount today?

Customer: Yes.

Clerk: Okay, go ahead and push yes on the touchscreen. Now, go ahead and enter your phone number.

Customer: …………WOW.

(He bends over the touchscreen deep in thought for a long time without pressing anything.)

Clerk: Would you like me to give you the mail-in membership paper so you can get your discount now and fill this out later?

Customer: No, I got this.

(He manages to get 3 numbers typed in)

Clerk: (into the phone PA) Second checker please, I need someone to open another register.

(A new register is opened, and all the other waiting customers are checked out. Last I saw, he was still entering his phone number.)

Unfiltered Story #191242

, , | Unfiltered | March 31, 2020

A customer pulls up to the drive thru.

Customer: “Are you guys serving your all-day-breakfast the whole day?

Me: “Yes ma’am, 24/7!”

Customer: “Well you make That more clear to the customers!”

Believe or not, I get asked that question at least once every day I work in the drive thru!

Handy With Handedness

, , , , , | Friendly | March 30, 2020

(I am eating lunch at my college when a couple of young men sit down at the table nearest me with some snacks of their own. They are close enough that I can hear them talking, and although I don’t speak it, I recognize the language they are speaking is Vietnamese.

It’s also necessary to note that I have Asperger’s Syndrome and one of my peculiarities is noticing and remembering someone’s handedness. It is kind of like noticing someone’s hair color; if you use your hands in a way that demonstrates your laterality, I can’t NOT note your dominant hand, I just do.

So, I can’t help but notice that one of the men nearby is left-handed by the way he eats. They finish quickly and get up to leave, but I notice that the left-handed man has taken his backpack, but neglected to pick up a smaller bag by his chair.)

Me: “Excuse me… Excuse me, sir? Sir?

(The two are too engaged in their conversation to realize I’m talking to them and are quickly walking to the door to the building. Out of desperation to get his attention, I blurt out the first thing I can think of.)

Me: “Uh… Left-handed Vietnamese guy!”

(The two men stop and slowly turn to look at me with bewildered expressions.)

Me: *awkwardly* “Um… y-you left your bag behind.” *points to the sack by the chair*

(The young man looked surprised when he saw it there, jogged over to pick it up, and thanked me, and they left.)

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