Sword In The Stone-Faced Grandma

, , , , , , | Right | October 12, 2017

Little Girl: “But, Granny, why can’t I have the sword?”

Granny: “Because swords are for boys and you’re a girl, so have the [Doll] instead.” *gestures to me* “I’m sure that she had [Doll]s as a girl.”

Me: “Actually, I had cowboy pistols and a [Gaming Console].” *while handing sword to the little girl* “Be careful ruling the high seas!”

(Granny was furious.)

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They’re Vibrating On A Different Frequency

, , , , , , | Working | October 9, 2017

(I am in a novelty store, looking for a cheap vibrator as a gag gift. I’m in my 50s and the clerk is probably about 20. The clerk comes up with a smirk on her face, obviously expecting me to be embarrassed.)

Clerk: *said in the most condescending voice possible* “Can I explain anything to you? I know someone your age might not understand these.”

(Now I don’t have a lot of f***s to give. I stopped worrying about what people think years ago. I start picking up vibrators and explaining to her the pros and cons of each one. Loudly. She is turning redder and redder as several boys her age stop to watch.)

Me: “But I don’t buy my vibrators here. I go to [Store #1] or [Store #2]. These are cheap pieces of crap, but I want it as a gag gift. But I know people your age may not understand all of this. Can I explain anything else to you, honey?”

(I bet she doesn’t try to embarrass middle-aged people any more.)

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The Unoriginal A**hole

, , , , , | Friendly | October 4, 2017

(I’m getting a few small tattoos at a nice parlor that’s doing a $20 special. There’s a pretty big line. The parlor has about 20 sheets with multiple tattoo designs that fall under the special. I have a saying tattooed on my arm: “For something to be fixed, it must first be broken.”)

Friend: “You never said what tattoos you were getting.”

Me: “I want the flower by my ankle, the book on my wrist, and if we have time I want to get the cracked mirror added to this one.” *indicates tattoo on my arm*

Rude Guy: “Wow. What unoriginal tattoos you’re getting.”

Friend: “Uh, you know there’s a finite amount of designs they’re doing today, right?”

Me: “Also, it’s my body, so I can add whatever art I want to it.”

Rude Guy: “Whatever. If you want the crappy tattoos, get them. I’m just some guy and have like fifteen tats already, but what do I know?”

Me: “Okay, we’re ignoring him now. Did you ever decide between those two?”

(A little while later, a tattoo artist grabs me, my friend, and the guy behind us to confirm what designs we want. I decide to get the cracked mirror on top of my other two.)

Rude Guy: *scoffing* “How many chicks got those exact tattoos in those exact places already? How original.”

Artist: “If you have a problem with the art, you can leave. If you wanna be a jack-a** to people getting tattoos, I ain’t gonna ink you.” *he notices my arm tattoo* “I like the saying. What’s it from?”

Me: “I really don’t know if I heard it somewhere or what, but I got it a few years ago. In the past two years it’s been a reminder that, even though I had cancer and still have lingering medical problems, I’m not broken.”

Friend: “And her last surgeon liked it so much she got permission to take a picture of the tattoo. It’s hanging in her office now.”

(The artist chatted with us and collected our payment. My friend went first because she only wanted one, then the rude guy, who was getting two, then me. Turns out, the tattoo my friend was getting was the same as one of the ones the rude guy wanted, and in the same spot. The rude guy turned bright red and stormed out of the parlor. The artist put the $40 he left behind towards our tattoos. We gave him the original amount as a tip.)

Irony Is Calling For You

, , , , | Right | September 22, 2017

(I’m a nurse in a medical office, and I am in the middle of treating a patient, when a cell phone begins ringing.)

Patient: “It is SO rude for you to let your phone go off while you are taking care of me! I should be your only priority, and I can’t believe they just let you play with your phone in here. I’ll just have to speak to your manager about this!”

Me: “Um, ma’am, that is your phone.”

Patient: “Oh goodness, it is.” *then answers phone and begins loud annoying conversation that keeps me from doing my job*

The Real Bread Winner

, , , , , | Right | May 2, 2013

(I’m shopping at a bakery that’s known for making a unique loaf of bread. It usually sells out quickly. Due to the popularity of the item, customers are only allowed one loaf per visit. I’m in the long line when I see there are still some of the special loaves available. By the time I get to the front of the line, I see there’s two left: one for the older woman in front of me, and one for me. There are two cashiers, so I go to the second cashier as the first one helps the older woman.)

Cashier #2: “Hi! Welcome to [Bakery]. Will this be all for you today?”

Me: “Actually, can I have one of those [Special Loaves]?”

Cashier #2: “Oh, sure!”

Older Woman: “What? She can’t have that! It’s mine!”

Cashier #1: “Ma’am, you already have one. We can’t allow you to have another one.”

Older Woman: “It’s not for me! It’s for my daughter!”

(She then points to the woman standing behind me, who looks equally annoyed.)

Cashier #2: “We’re sorry, but we can’t hold this for her. This customer asked for it first.”

Older Woman: “But I was here first! And I’m holding one for my daughter!”

Cashier #1: “Ma’am, we can’t do that. It’s against store policy.”

Older Woman: “Well, in that case, I want to return everything! I don’t want to shop here if that’s how you treat your customers!”

(The older woman has purchased a lot of items, and begins to unload her bag onto the counter. At this point, the people in line behind us are getting agitated, and the cashiers are looking distraught. I roll my eyes.)

Me: “You know what? Just give it to the woman behind me.”

Cashier #2: “Are you sure?”

(I nod. The older woman gets a smug look, as she and her daughter leave the bakery with their items.)

Cashier #2: “We’re so sorry that happened, but thank you!”

Me: “It’s no problem. It wasn’t worth the drama.”

(I pay for my original items, and turn to leave when [Cashier #1] stops me.)

Cashier #1: “Hold on a second. We just pulled out a fresh batch from the oven. Would you like one?”

Me: “Yes, please!”

(Not only was the bread I had delicious, but it was even fresher than the two the older woman got!)

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