Don’t Cross The Crossing Guard

, , , | Right | September 20, 2017

(I work as a crossing guard at a summer camp that has the parking lot and some of the camp on one side of a not-all-that-busy road and the rest of the camp on the other. Every day at around 10 am a group of 3- to 5-year-olds and three adults from a local day care comes and uses the pool for an hour. I stop traffic to cross them from the parking lot to the pool at 10 and again at 11 for them to go back. One day, after I’m done crossing them back, a minivan stops and the driver rolls down the window.)

Driver: “Excuse me!”

Me: “Yes? Can I help you?”

Driver: “You do this to me all the time!”

Me: “What?”

Driver: “Every time I come this way you always stop me!”

Me: “Well, I am the crossing guard—”

Driver: “Every f***ing time, you single me out and stop me for no reason.”

Me: “Did you not see the group of kids crossing the road to their bus?”

Driver: “I have friends in the [Town] police department! Stop me again and I’ll call them!”

Me: “Seeing as I’m protecting small children, and you’re trying to run them over, I’m pretty sure they’ll be on my side.”

(The driver rolled up the window and sped off. I never did hear from these so-called police friends.)

Louisianapathy

, , , , | Related | September 19, 2017

(My husband is from Louisiana, and he has a very thick Cajun accent. Usually he’s good about enunciating, so most people don’t have any trouble understanding him, but when he’s very tired or drunk, he’s harder to understand. We are camping with our families, and his sister is sharing our tent. One morning, I get up early to make breakfast. I wake my husband up to ask him how many pancakes he’ll want.)

Husband: *still half-asleep, says something completely unintelligible*

Me: “What?”

Husband: *repeats himself*

Me: “Babe, I can’t understand you.”

Sister-In-Law: “He said he wants four, and that he had to put the powdered milk in the green ice chest instead of the red one because it wouldn’t fit.”

Me: “…[Sister-In-Law], you have a superpower.”

Sister-In-Law: “Uh-huh.” *goes back to sleep*

Trying To Put The Finger On The Problem Child

, , , , , | Learning | September 19, 2017

(The school I work at has a great program in the summer, where international students come to Canada and check out the school. During their time, they experience Canadian culture and practice their English skills. We do have some young students come as well, and I work with a group of 7-11’s. Before class starts, I notice that there is some bullying happening. Since they’re the younger group, often when I speak to them, I use a lot of visuals or hand signs to communicate. I decide to address the issues I have seen.)

Me: “Morning, everybody. Before we get started, I just wanted to remind everybody about the rules we decided on for the class. One was treating each other with respect, and I did not see that this morning. Remember: in this classroom, we only say positive things. So only this:” *gives thumbs up* “None of this:” *gives thumbs down*

Student: “Or this.” *gives me the middle finger*

(I had a moment of shock, and then told the student to wait outside while I called the supervisor to come talk to him. However, I was really thinking about what a good segue that was, and how I couldn’t admit I was impressed.)

A Pox On Your Assumptions!

, , , , | Working | September 14, 2017

(I’ve always been a naturally skinny girl. When I was 17, I got chickenpox and lost a lot of weight, because they were in my throat. I spent a year after that trying very hard to gain weight, but couldn’t. I am very weak and frail when I go to summer camp. I have a doctor’s note saying I shouldn’t play the games, because they get very rough and I could get hurt. One day, I notice I have a large spot in the back of my throat, resembling a canker sore, so I go to the nurse’s station.)

Me: “Hey, I have a white spot on the back of my throat. It hurts and makes it hard to eat. Do you have anything that can help?”

Nurses: “We have some throat numbing spray. And we can give you some ibuprofen. But we’ve seen this before, and we’re going to monitor you closely now, to make sure you stop throwing up.”

Me: “Excuse me? I’m not throwing up.”

Nurses: “This only happens to girls who are bulimic. You’re too skinny. You need to eat and not throw up.”

Me: “I do eat! I’m only this skinny because of chickenpox! I’m actually trying to gain weight!”

(They wouldn’t believe me, no matter what I said. I’ve never had an eating disorder, and I didn’t like how closely they monitored my eating, because some of the camp food didn’t taste good, but they made me eat more than I wanted to.)

Got The Time Most Of The Time

, , , | Friendly | September 7, 2017

(I am on vacation in Mexico, hanging out with some fellow campers. I have been at this particular spot for a couple months longer than them, and have gotten used to its natural cycles.)

Camper #1: “Oh, hey, what time is it?”

Me: “It’s…” *I look at the sky, hold up an arm, and judge the distance between it and one of the constellations.* “…about 10 o’clock.”

Camper #2: “I’m going to check that, and if you’re right, that’s awesome.” *looks at his cellphone* “It’s 10:07! Wicked!”

(Over time, I got less accurate, since the position of stars change throughout the year, but my estimates were still within an hour of the actual time.)

Page 1/2112345...Last
Next »