The Lord Himself Will Not Move That Car

| NC, USA | Right | March 9, 2017

(I work as the receptionist at a church, on a day when no one else is there. Because I am young, and working alone on everyone else’s day off, what I am allowed to do is very limited. I am 16, but look about 14.)

Me: “Good morning.”

Customer: “I need to see who is in charge!”

Me: “It’s our priest’s day off, I’m sorry. There’s just me, and I—”

Customer: “There is someone in my parking spot!”

Me: “We share the lot in the back with a few other businesses, so if someone—”


Me: “Is it a green pickup with a dent in the door?”

Customer: “Yes, and it’s in my spot.”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, I’m a little confused, because you just described my car. It’s in a church spot, and it has a [Church]’s permit on the dashboard.”

Customer: “We are a new business that moved in where the Boy’s and Girl’s club was! We are entitled to spaces in the parking lot!”

Me: “The spaces with the signs that say, ‘Boy’s and Girl’s Club Parking Only’ are probably yours. Ours say ‘[Church] Parking Only,’ and I’m in a [Church]’s spot.”

Customer: “It’s not your lot. It’s the city’s lot. We only get two spaces and the church has six and the one that has the green truck should be ours!”

(She’s getting louder and I’m getting concerned.)

Me: “We’re a large building and all the spots in the left aisle have been ours since we built the parking lot. The city doesn’t own it. We do, and we rent the other six spaces to—”

Customer: “I want to talk to someone in charge!”

Me: “I can leave a note but I’m the only person in this entire building, so if I can’t help you, you’ll need to come back tomorrow.”

Customer: “Can you do ANYTHING to help me?”

Me: *listing one of the two things I’m allowed to do* “I can leave an urgent note for the priest to call you, and she’ll get back to you first thing in the morning tomorrow to talk about this.”

Customer: “That’s no help. What can you do right now?”

Me: *listing the other thing* “I can unlock the sanctuary so you can have meditative time with the Lord?”

Customer: “I don’t want religion. I want that parking space! There’s a number on the sign. I’m going to tow that car!”

(My car did not get towed.)

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An Argument For The Separation Of Church And State

| Richardson, TX, USA | Friendly | February 21, 2017

This took place a few years ago when the Fourth of July, the day the United States celebrates its founding, fell on a Sunday. Every year our church hosts a different young minister from England as a staff intern for several months, and on this particular Sunday the new minister and his wife have just arrived and are introduced from the pulpit. And right after their introduction? The congregation stood and sang “My Country ‘Tis of Thee.” Most everyone seemed oblivious, but to me it was a bit awkward that our guests were being “treated” to their own national anthem, “God Save the Queen,” with American lyrics.

I quickly scanned the worship service bulletin, hoping that was the end of the awkwardness. It was not. I was mortified to see that the church organist had selected a patriotic march to play at the end of the service: John Philip Sousa’s “Liberty Bell March.” Yes, our British visitors’ first American church service ended with the theme to “Monty Python’s Flying Circus”!

That’s What You Call A Coke Addict

| Altamonte Springs, FL, USA | Right | February 4, 2017

(I am volunteering at an annual festival we have at my church. It’s my first time. I’m serving soft drinks. I am 13 and a middle-aged lady orders.)

Customer: “Can I get a Diet Coke?”

Me: “All we have is Pepsi. Will that be okay?”

Customer: “What? All you have is Pepsi? How much does it cost?”

Me: “One dollar, ma’am.”

Customer: “That won’t do. Where can I get a Coke?”

Me: “You won’t find any Coca-Cola products here, ma’am.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous! You wouldn’t know quality beverages if it hit you in the face. I demand you tell me where I can get my d*** Diet Coke!”

Me: “Well, if you must there’s a Publix right down the—”

Customer: “Go to h***!”

(One of the nuns overhears this and pulls the lady aside. The lady begins to turn pale as the nun speaks to her. After about five minutes of speaking with the nun the lady leaves. The nun comes over to where I am.)

Me: “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. What did you say to her?”

Nun: “Doesn’t matter. All we need is Jesus.”

Positive You Heard Negative

| PA, USA | Learning | January 26, 2017

(I am a volunteer for a religious education program. We are having a sign up event. Parents are here to sign up their children.)

Dad: “Hi. My daughter is in eighth grade. I need to sign her up but there are some issues with her mom and custody.” *launches into lengthy explanation of problem and what he wants to do about it*

Me: “I can do that.”

Dad: “No, you don’t understand. I’m divorced.” *repeats entire explanation*

Me: “Yes. I’m the eighth grade teacher. I would be happy to do that.”

Dad: “Can I just speak to the director?”

(I point him towards the director. He goes off to discuss it with her. She then brings him back to me. By now I have a long line of parents trying to sign their children up.)

Director: “This gentleman has a custody issue with his daughter.” *repeats entire problem* “I told him I couldn’t agree to that unless I spoke to you first. It’s quite a bit of extra work for you and I don’t want to agree without your consent.”

Me: “Yes, we already discussed it and I said it’s fine.”

Director: “Oh, great.”

Dad: “Finally! Someone who understands.”

Other Parent In Line: “Too bad it’s not YOU! She said she could do it the first two times you asked. You are the reason this line is so long.”

Here We Pokémon Go Again, Part 4

| USA | Related | December 10, 2016

(I’m the nut-ball in this story. I went with my four-year-old and mother to a local church festival that had games for kids and silly prizes. I’m 31. We are walking around and peeking at the prizes.)

Me: “Oh, my god! A toy Pikachu!” *I run up to my mom* “I need more tickets!”

Mom: “Why?”

Me: “There’s a Pikachu! My baby’s going to win it for me right?!”

Daughter: “Sure!”

(We go off to the little duck booth. I’m yelling “get me that Pokémon!” She picks one with prizes from a smaller box.)

Daughter: “I’m sorry, mommy!”

Me: “Oh, it’s okay, sweetie. Pick your prize!”

(The teenager working the booth looks at me like I’m crazy.)

Teenager: “You can just have it…”


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