Can’t Muscle Her Way Into This Argument

, , , , , | | Right | July 12, 2019

(I grew up on a small-scale farm, and right after college, I take a job as a clerk in a butcher shop. A woman comes in one day and starts giving one of my coworkers a hard time about the size of the pork chops. He comes to me asking for a hand, and I ask her what the problem is.)

Customer: “Your pork chops are too small; I need bigger ones.”

Me: “Certainly, ma’am. I’ll go talk to the butcher in the back and we can cut them thicker—”

Customer: “No, not thicker, I want them bigger.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but they don’t come any bigger than this. This is the largest you’ll find at any store.”

Customer: “Well, I got them bigger at [Other Store].”

Me: “Ma’am, I raise pigs. The muscle in a market-sized pig does not come larger than what we have presented here.”

(She bought six chops.)

It’s A Gateway Candy

, , , , , | | Right | July 11, 2019

(I’m in a candy store shortly before Valentine’s Day. A customer and her elementary-school-age son come in. She’s helping him find candy he can share with his class.)

Clerk: “Maybe these?”

(He shows her a box of those little pastel hearts that have messages printed on them.)

Customer: “Okay, we’ll get those! But we also need something for the boys.”

Clerk: “Oh, uh… You mean, a candy that’s more… masculine?”

(The clerk looks surprised, probably because this is a strongly LGBTQ neighborhood, so it’s odd to hear someone assigning a gender to something like candy. Still, he tries to help.)

Customer: “Oh, what about these for the boys? Candy cigarettes.”

Clerk: “Uh, uh, okay…”

(She and her son go to check out. After a moment of banter…)

Clerk: “Would you also like to buy some of our Breaking Bad candy crystal meth?”

Customer: “What?!”

Clerk: “Well, uh… to go along with your candy cigarettes…”

Oh, Dear…

, , , , , , | | Romantic | July 10, 2019

(One of my coworkers got married, and a few weeks later he is still very much in his honeymoon phase. Everyone in the office has heard about when he met her, when they started dating, and when they got engaged through passing comments during casual conversations, but none of us has ever met her. He decides to attend a work party and bring his wife along. The running gag all night long is his overuse of terms of endearment.)

Coworker: “Darling, can you come here?”

Coworker: “Love, come meet my manager!”

Coworker: “Did you find your phone, sweetheart?’

Coworker: “I’m just going to run to the car, babe.”

Coworker: “Honey, have you seen my keys?”

Coworker: “Sweetie, can I borrow your phone?”

Coworker: “I can’t find my wallet, dear.”

Coworker: “Sugar, can you hand me that glass?”

Coworker: “Oh, angel! Come meet [Other Coworker]!”

Coworker: “Hey, lover, what time do you want to head out?”

(Eventually…)

Wife: “[Coworker]! Do you even know my name?!”

(I feel like I have to mention that she said it jokingly. They’ve been married for about seven years now, and he still prefers pet names. I wish them the best!)

That’s Not Fare

, , , , , | | Right | June 27, 2019

(I am sitting on a train waiting for it to leave the station at the beginning of the line when a group of teenage girls arrives to board the train, as well. One of the girls has some type of trouble paying her fare, so another girl blocks the door to the car I am seated in, standing with one foot on the platform and the other on the train.)

Girl: “This train ain’t leaving! Nope! Y’all ain’t going nowhere! No! Where! Everybody’s gonna have to wait now!”

(She goes on like this for a while. None of the passengers react in any way.)

Conductor: *over the loudspeaker* “Ma’am, this train isn’t scheduled to leave this station for another five minutes.”

Girl: “Oh.”

(She went to a seat and sat down with her head down while the rest of the passengers had a little chuckle. Her friend made it onto the train with plenty of time to spare.)

Steal And Refill

, , , , | | Right | June 24, 2019

(I have just finished my meal at an old, family-run sandwich shop and have just walked back home, when I realize that I haven’t paid for my meal. I run back to the restaurant and open the door, and the cashier looks up from her conversation with another customer, smiles, and says…)

Cashier: “Hello again! Did you need a refill?”

(I notice that I still had my drink in my hand from my meal ten minutes before! Best restaurant ever. And yes, I paid for it.)

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