Mean Girls Versus Deadpool And Harry Potter

, , , , , , , | | Friendly | May 8, 2019

I take the bus to work, since I don’t have a driver’s license yet and my bike has a flat tire. I’m 23 and female. This morning, a young girl, maybe 13 or 14 years old, sits across from where I am, wearing a Deadpool jacket, jeans with ink-marks, and Harry Potter-like glasses. She minds her business as I mind mine, until four girls around the girl’s age enter the bus.

They start giggling and laughing when they notice the other girl. I hear comments such as, “I bet her clothes get washed once a year,” and, “With hair that short she probably wants to be a boy,”  followed by, “No guy would ever want her, anyway.”

Unaware that I’m listening, they don’t stop until I get up — because I have to get off the bus at the next stop — get closer to them and say, “You know, your makeup might try to make you pretty, but you girls sure have an ugly character.”

The looks on their faces were priceless, but the smile the other girl gave me was worth it.

They Got You Covered From A To Zulu

, , , , , , , | | Friendly | May 6, 2019

(My husband and I are on holiday. We’re considered an uncommon interracial couple. We’re both South African, but I’m ethnically Pakistani and he’s a Zulu man. We’re on holiday in Dubai and we’re at a theme park known for its fast rides. It’s a bit of a busy day so we’re waiting in line. There have been a lot of queue jumpers today and we’re getting fed up. Just behind us are two Indian girls. As the line moves, we notice the girls are slowly inching closer and closer into our personal space, to the point where they’re actually moving around us and trying to get ahead in the queue. This pisses me off since I hate line jumpers, but I’m a bit of a pushover so I don’t confront them. I just give them a dirty look. Soon, the girls start speaking in Hindi, not realising that I’m Pakistani and fluent in Urdu — our language — which is very similar to Hindi.)

Girl #1: “What are they doing?”

Girl #2: “I don’t know. Look at that girl looking at us.”

Girl #1: “She looks crazy. Is she with the black guy?”

Girl #2: “Looks like it. Weird.”

(They say a few more sentences which I don’t catch because my glare is getting more intense, and I finally decide to speak up. I speak to them in Urdu.)

Me: “Hey, you girls are being incredibly rude. We’re all waiting in this line and I don’t know what you think of yourselves that you can cut past us.”

(Both girls look shocked and start to make excuses.)

Girl #2: “We’re not trying to cut in line, but fine, you go ahead of us.”

(The line moved forward a few steps and they got a little behind us. Coincidentally, the theme park that we were at employs a lot of South Africans and we’d been greeting our fellow countrymen the whole day, whenever we heard the accents. As we neared the front of the queue, the girls were starting their old tricks again and they’d managed to move a little ahead of us. One of the men running the ride turned out to be Zulu and my husband spoke to him in Zulu quite enthusiastically. The man asked how things were going and my husband replied that things were pretty good, except for the queue jumpers. The girls’ faces blanched and they started to look scared, even though neither of them could understand Zulu — the words “queue jumpers” were said in English. My husband isn’t the type to be petty, but being South African had been a huge advantage to us since the staff were usually nicer and more accommodating for us. Anyway, when they needed two people to fill the next ride, those girls were purposefully ignored by the attendant and we went in first. Even though it was something small, karma felt good.)

“Percentages & Assault” Coming This Fall On CBS

, , , , , , | | Right | May 5, 2019

(It’s Black Friday, so the store is busy and I have more than my fair share of customers. I’ve been called down to handle one such customer, who is red-faced and screaming throughout this conversation.)

Customer: “This is supposed to be free!”

Me: “Why do you believe that?”

Customer: “It’s marked 10% off and I have a 10%-off coupon! That’s 100% off!”

Me: “Let me show you how our computers will calculate the math for this, sir.”

(I write the numbers down and show him the math on my phone. I’m helped by a passing customer who says I am right. He is still fuming and angry, but seems to accept the math.)

Customer: “That isn’t right! You should put signs up that that’s how you do it!”

Me: “I apologize if this is confusing. Do you still want the item?”

Customer: “Yes. It’s a g**d*** scam you have here.”

(He turns and flings his credit card at the waiting employee, like a throwing star. It hits her, bounces off of her, and goes down a crack between the register and the counter. The crack is only an eighth of an inch wide.)

Customer: “What the h***? Get my card!”

Me: “Um, I’m not sure how.”

(Both counters are bolted to the floor and a piece of flashing means I can’t dig it out with a wire. Meanwhile, the customer is yelling even louder about getting his card out, while pulling his shoulders like he wants to fight. He is screaming threats against us if we don’t get his card out now. I’m about to lose control of the situation when a police officer comes up behind the angry man.)

Officer: “How about you calm down there? I’m sure she is getting your card as fast as possible.”

Customer: “They were trying to scam me! The cashier b**** dropped my card down that crack!”

Officer: “You know I saw you throw it, right? How about you take a seat over there and calm down, buddy. If you don’t tone down the language, I’m going to put you in cuffs.”

Me: “I’ll have maintenance down to unbolt the counter soon.”

Officer: “Tell them to take their time. My one-year-old is learning not to throw things at people right now. I’m going to have the same conversation with my buddy here while we wait.”

(Maintenance was able to unbolt the counter and retrieve the card while I heard the cop explaining percentages and assault to the guy. When he came over, he finished his transaction silently, looking pale and cowed. I checked out a gift card to a coffee shop out of my own money and gifted it to the cop. I don’t want to think how bad things would have gotten if he hadn’t interceded.)

Boy, Were They Wrong!

, , , , , , , | | Romantic | April 30, 2019

(I recently moved to the city from my hometown in the midwest for my new job. A small group of my new coworkers has taken me out to their favorite bar in an effort to welcome me. I’m telling everyone a little bit about of myself when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around and see a man I’ve never met before.)

Me: *confused* “Hello… Can I help you?”

Guy: “[My Name]? Is that really you? You look great!”

(Everyone is looking at me with puzzled looks on their faces. I honestly have no idea who this guy is, but I don’t want to be rude, either.)

Me: “I’m really sorry, but I’m not honestly recognizing who you are. Mind giving me a hint?”

Guy: “Oh, that hurts. It’s me, [Name Which Happens To Be Gender-Neutral], from high school.”

Me: *with a polite smile* “I’m sorry, but I think you must have me confused with someone else. I just moved to this area and I’m pretty sure we didn’t go to the same high school.”

Guy: “No, no, I remember you. You were pretty cute then, but d***, you’re hot now. Wish I made a better effort to get to know you better if this was how you were going to turn out.”

(He laughs it off as it’s not a big deal and tries to put his arm around me like we’re buddies. I’m getting a bit annoyed, but I simply just smile, instead.)

Me: “You said your name is [Gender-Neutral Name], right? Did you go by the same name back then?”

Guy: *a bit confused* “Well, my friends and I had nicknames for each other, but that’s what the teachers called me.”

Me: “You know what? I think it’s starting to come back to me. I remember someone named [His Name] at my school.”

Guy: “I knew you’d remember.”

Me: *with as much honesty and goodness I can muster* “Got to say I hardly recognized you. I mean, we all knew back then how uncomfortable you felt in your own skin, constantly saying you were a guy trapped in a girl’s body. I really felt bad about all the grief you got from the principal about wanting to attend prom in a tux rather than a dress, despite our entire class standing up for you. But I got to say you look amazing now – you’ve transitioned so well!”

Guy: *with a look of utter disgust and shouting* “What the f*** are you talking about? I ain’t no [homophobic slur]. I’m a real man!”

(With that, he leaves my table and me alone, with the entire table looking at me in utter confusion.)

Me: “Another fun fact about me is that I attended an all-girls high school for all four years — no boys allowed. So, when guys try that lame pick-up, it’s super easy to shoot them down.”  

(They all started cracking up. I was an instant member of their group from that point forward, and it made the transition to a new city much easier.)

A Uniform Response To Civilian Workers

, , , , , | Working | April 26, 2019

In 1936, my great-grandfather left the Royal Navy with the rank of Chief Petty Officer after 22 years of service. He then joined the Admiralty as a Naval Paymaster. During the war, he was posted to Ceylon, now Sri Lanka. Much to his chagrin, the authorities insisted that he be given a formal rank and appointed him Lieutenant-Commander. Although he had a uniform, he swore that he would never wear it.

One day, a US Sub-Lieutenant needed some information from him and demanded that he presented it to him on board his vessel the following morning. My great-grandfather went home and asked his wife to lay out his dress uniform.

“But [Great-Grandfather], you said you would never wear it.”

“[Great-Grandmother], tomorrow, I am making an exception.”

The following morning he arrived at the US vessel, in uniform, and was piped aboard. The vessel’s captain, being massively out-ranked by a Naval Lieutenant-Commander, asked very respectfully what he wanted. My great-grandfather said that Mr. [US Sub-Lieutenant] had demanded that he bring this information to him and therefore he was doing so.

One hopes that the US Sub-Lieutenant was never again quite so high-handed with a “civilian” worker, and also that he recovered from the chewing-out that he will have received from his captain.

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