Bye-Bi Mom!

, , , , , , | Related | April 10, 2018

(I have recently moved home with my parents, as houses and apartments are super expensive where I live, and my parents have multiple empty rooms. I did live at a college dorm, but after I graduated that was no longer an option. My girlfriend of a year and a few weeks comes over to help me move in.)

Mom: “Who’s your friend?”

Girlfriend: “Actually we’ve met, ma’am.”

Mom: “Really?”

Girlfriend: “Yes? At [My Name]’s birthday.”

Me: “Mom, her name is [Girlfriend].”

Mom: “Oh, sorry, I forgot. Anyway, are you a friend from college?”

(My girlfriend and I share a look.)

Me: “Kind of. She’s actually my girlfriend.”

(My mom apparently has no idea I’m bi, even though I told her years ago. At the time, she just got angry and told me it was a phase.)

Mom: “What?!”

Girlfriend: “Is that a problem?”

Mom: “Yes! My only daughter can’t be gay!”

Me: “Yes, I can, because I am!”

Mom: “Get out!”

Girlfriend: “What?”

Mom: “Both of you, out. And get all of your junk out of that room, too. You can’t stay here. What if [My Brother] gets gay, too?”

Girlfriend: *snorts*

Mom: “What’s so funny?”

Girlfriend: “He’s married! To a girl! He’s not going to just turn gay!”

Mom: “Of course not, because you’re both leaving!”

Girlfriend: “All right.” *to me* “Let’s go. You can stay with my roommate and me.”

Mom: “No! Who knows what sort of stupid s*** you’re going to talk her into?! She stays here!”

Me: “But you just told me to leave.”

Mom: “You’re messing with my brain and making me say stuff! Only the [slur] has to go.”

Me: *pauses to think and stare at Mom* “I think I will move in with [Girlfriend].”


They Usually Go For Black Cats

, , , , | Friendly | April 9, 2018

(I own a very fluffy, friendly, and adorable puppy. It has gotten to the point where hearing somebody say, “Oh, my God!” while we are walking will make me stop so my pup can meet his new adoring fan. Most people will ask what breed he is or make generic comments about the amount of fluff and how sweet he is, but this one stands apart.)

Random Lady: “Oh, my God! That is not a dog; that is a stuffed animal you brought to life with black magic, you evil witch! Ooh, who’s a good doggie?! Oh, I just love how soft he is!” *continues with the usual praise I’ve heard a million times before*

Every Startup Needs A House Elf

, , , , , , | Working | April 9, 2018

(I’m working at an early stage startup in Silicon Valley, and we get a shipment of pens with the company logo on them. The sales guy goes around the open-plan office handing them out.)

Me: “Master has given [My Name] a pen! [My Name] is free!”

Unfiltered Story #108619

, , | Unfiltered | April 8, 2018

(Our building is next to a post office. Today is a Sunday and the post office is closed. A customer is checking out after using the spa with a massive box in her hands.)
Customer: “Hey, can you send a package for me?”
Me: “Sorry, but I can’t.”
Customer: “But the post office is right next door!”
Me: “Sorry, but we really can’t handle your mail for you.”
Customer: “Why not? It’s right next door!”
Me: “Ma’am, are you aware the post office is closed today?”
Customer: “Then just send it for me tomorrow!”
Me: “Sorry, there’s really nothing I can do. I can’t handle your mail for you.”
Customer: “I paid money to your business! You owe me a favor! I want a refund!”
(She continues to insist we should send her package for her before demanding to speak to the manager.)
Customer: “This f—–g receptionist refuses to send my package for me! Give me my money back!”
Manager: “Sorry, but we are under no obligation to do that for you. We’re a spa, not a post office, Ma’am.”
Customer: “I’m asking you for a favor! You’re obligated to make me feel relaxed! Now I’m stressed! I want a refund!”
Manager: “I’m sorry you feel that way, but you’ll just have to go to the post office on your own tomorrow. We really can’t handle your mail.”
Customer: *points to me and my manager at the front desk with her one free hand* “Think about how rude you were to me! I’m never coming back!”

This Caller Could Not Be Roached

, , , , , | Right | April 6, 2018

I manage a large apartment complex. One Friday a resident calls and informs me that he has seen a couple of cockroaches in his home, in his kitchen. I inform him that our professional exterminator will be there this coming Wednesday, and he will go in and treat the apartment to get rid of any bugs, including roaches.

I arrive to work on the following Monday, before his apartment is to be exterminated. The same resident has left me a voicemail on my answering machine. He says that he made a pecan pie for the staff and myself, but he had to go to work before our office opened, and would I please go to his home to get it. He said he left it sitting out on the kitchen counter.

I think I’m going to tell him that I never got his message.

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