Unfiltered Story #102561

, | Unfiltered | January 2, 2018

(It is Christmas Day and I’m up in the mountains at my Uncle’s house like every year. The area usually didn’t get snow until after Christmas but it is the second year they got some early therefore only my second time being in it. The first was just a thin layer of ice but this year it’s piles of the soft, dry snow so I’m outside playing in it and taking pictures. Eventually my mom comes out to walk with me and take pictures herself. This happens at a house about two down from my Uncle’s.)

Me: *walks past the house with my mom to show her a tree naturally decorated with icicles that’s on the corner of the road*

Neighbor: *sitting on her porch smoking a cigarette, her two dogs are running around the yard and of course start barking as we pass. In a scolding tone* “shut the f**k up.”

(We walk and takes pictures for about twenty minutes. It’s starting to get dark and I still wanted to try building a snowman so we head back towards the house. The woman and dogs are still outside and of course they start barking again. I wanted to hurry past because I know how frustrating it is when your dogs bark constantly but mom makes me stop to take a picture therefore they keep barking.)

Neighbor: *in unison with the man inside* “SHUT THE F**K UP. SHUT THE F**K UP NOW.”

Man: *from the kitchen window* “What’s going on out there?!”

(By this time we’re hurrying past.)

Woman: *puffs her cigarette then into the window bitterly and not exactly quiet* “I’ll tell you the f**k what. Some goddamn moron people are standing in front of my f**king house!”

Mom: *has had enough and stops* “Excuse me?”

Neighbor: “I wasn’t f**king talking to you!”

Mom: “Now, you were talking about people in front of your house. Therefore you were talking about us.”

Neighbor: “Just mind your own f**king business, lady!”

Mom: “You were talking about US and we can hear you.”

Neighbor: “I SAID MIND YOUR OWN F**KING BUSINESS. F**K OFF.”

(As we walk away I can still hear her repeatedly muttering “f**k you.”)

Mom: *shaking her head in disbelief, whispering* “Well, Merry Christmas to you too…”

When It Isn’t “More The Merrier”

, , , , , , , , | Related | January 1, 2018

(My parents have hosted Christmas Eve for both sides of the family as long as I can remember. Gatherings in my family are informal; a few people sit at tables for comfort or practicality, but many of us occupy couches or the floor around coffee tables. When I was growing up we lived in a large house, but my parents downsized about seven years ago. This year, for the first time since they moved, basically everyone is coming. Nobody is with in-laws, and some of the old “kids table” group have their own children now, so the total expected head count is larger than it’s ever been at their current place. Four generations will be represented. My mom can be rather uptight and is more of the planner than my dad, so I text her and ask if she wants me to bring an extra dessert, knowing we’ll have so many people. A few moments later my phone rings.)

Me: “Hi, Mom!”

Mom: “YOU AND [BOYFRIEND] CAN EAT IN OUR BED OR SITTING ON THE TOILET!”

Me: “Um… What?”

Mom: “THERE’S GOING TO BE AT LEAST THIRTY-FOUR PEOPLE, MAYBE MORE! I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE I’M GOING TO PUT EVERYONE!”

Me: *laughing* “It’ll be fine! It’s always fine.”

(I can hear my dad yell to her from the background, “Nobody will care! There’s never enough chairs, anyway!”)

Mom: “WE’LL NEVER FIT!”

Me: “So, should I bring the bundt cake?”

Mom: “Yes, please! You can eat it in the bathroom, too!”

Drownded In Fake Calls

, , , , , | Right | January 1, 2018

(This happens while covering a break in the electronics department. The phone there is the only portable one in the store, and sometimes new or lazy operators will send phone calls there that don’t belong to that section)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Store] electronics. How can I help you today?”

Customer: “Hi, yeah, could you transfer me over to the toilet section?”

Me: *suspicious already that the customer sounds like a child* “Unfortunately, we don’t have any phones over there, and I couldn’t transfer you from here. Is there something I can help you with?”

Customer: “Yeah, my toilet broke. Could you tell me which ones you guys sell?”

Me: “Uh. All we carry are toilet seats, actually; we don’t sell toilets.”

Customer: “That’ll work!”

(At this point I am concerned that this isn’t a legitimate call, but I try to play along for a bit in an attempt not to hang up on a customer.)

Me: “I don’t really know anything about toilets, so I can’t really help you.”

Customer: “Well, can I tell you what’s wrong, and then you can see if you can help me?”

Me: “Uh, I can’t really—”

Customer: “So, what happened was I took this giant s***, and when I tried to reach in with my hand to get it, I got stuck, so I had to break it to get free, and now I need a new toilet.”

Me: *sigh* “Oh. Unfortunately, we don’t sell toilets here, so you’ll have to go to [Home Repair Store], or call a plumber.”

Customer: “I did call a plumber! And when he came to help he got stuck, too, and… and he drownded!”

Me: “Okay, hon. I’m going to hang up now, all right?”

Customer: “No, don’t hang up!”

Me: *click* “Well, that’s five minutes I’ll never get back.”

Flipping Out Over This

, , , | Healthy | January 1, 2018

(I accidentally remove most of the tip of my middle finger with a gardening tool and am getting fixed up in the ER.)

Nurse: “There you go. Would you like me to tape your middle finger to the one next to it?”

Me: “Um, no. Why would you?”

Nurse: “Well, sometimes with a injury to the middle finger people ask us to tape an adjacent finger too so that they don’t inadvertently flip other people off.”

Me: “Are you kidding? This is the opportunity I’ve been waiting for!”

Unfiltered Story #102215

, , | Unfiltered | December 31, 2017

I had a particularly nasty co-worker, John, once. His MO was bitching until he got what he wanted; it usually worked. One day he was phoning customer service for something. It’s on speakerphone. He calls, complains, they won’t help him, and he demands to talk with a supervisor. They put him on hold. A little while later someone comes on, “I’m the supervisor, how may I help you?” John, YELLING, “I’ve been on hold for over an hour waiting for you &*@# to #%@.” Supervisor (in a perfectly calm voice): “Funny, my call timer shows you called six minutes ago.” John (defeated): “Well, it felt like hours…” Caught at his own game… A true happening.

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