(My mom is helping me study for an AP biology test. We’re doing some Punnett square examples in the textbook.)
Me: “So, does it matter if the mother or father goes on top?”
Mom: “For sex? It depends. With me and your father, he goes on top because I weigh more. But with your aunt and uncle, I think she probably goes on top, because he weighs more.”
Me: *almost too horrified to speak* “I meant on the square. I think I’ll go study alone.”
(Since I work in a grocery store, my parents often text me while I’m working to pick up stuff. Since I am forgetful, I have gotten into the habit of writing what I need to bring home on my hand. Today, my mother has asked me to buy milk, so naturally, I have, “Buy milk,” written on the back of my hand. A customer comes to my till to pay for her groceries. While handing me her card she notices the writing on my hand. She jumps back and grabs her chest like she is having a heart attack.)
Customer: “You filthy devil worshipers think that it’s cool to put those tattoos all over your bodies?”
Me: “I don’t have any tattoos.”
(The customer grabs my arm and points to the “Buy milk” written on my hand. She holds my hand high for everyone to see.)
Customer: “Devil worshiper! Devil worshiper! Don’t shop here; they hire f****** devil worshipers!”
(Eventually I wrestle my arm free and manage to calm her down.)
Me: “It’s not a tattoo. Why would I get a tattoo that says, ‘Buy milk?’ I wrote it in pen so that I will remember to buy milk after my shift.”
Customer: *suddenly cheerful* “Oh, well, have a good day.”
(My mother worked as a secretary at the school my younger brothers and I attended from kindergarten to eighth grade, and had her share of humorous mishaps. When I enter middle school and begin getting dismissed earlier, I bring a book to my mother’s office and read until it’s time to pick up my brothers. On this day, she’s a little nervous about having to call some higher-ups about a chronically truant student, and repeatedly reminds me to be quiet when she finally picks up the phone.)
Mom: “This student’s attendance is—” *intending to say either “horrendous” or “atrocious”* “—horrocious!” *realizes what she’s said, smacks her forehead with one hand* “I mean…”
(Luckily, the person on the other end of the phone actually found it pretty funny, and, “That’s horrocious!” became a bit of a running joke with the staff for a while.)
(I am a teenage girl working at a popular restaurant in downtown. Nearby, there is a Baptist church. People regularly come to the restaurant straight after church, which is the one of the reasons why it is so popular in the first place. A woman enters and immediately comes to the front of the line.)
Customer: “I am starving! I just came from church and the service took super long. Let me go in front of these other people. They are not as f****** hungry as I am!”
Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we cannot let you go first; these people have been waiting for a very long time. The wait will be approximately 35 minutes. Would you like to reserve a spot in line?”
Customer: “WHAT?! This is unacceptable. Jesus said to us, ‘The first will be last and the last shall be first.’ You should let me in front!”
Me: “I am sorry, but—”
Customer: “NO BUTS! Let me in front, you little b****! I bet you are an atheist! You’re going to Hell!”
Me: *clearly shaken but full of rage* “Ma’am, I understand the irritation, but there is no reason for you to ever treat me like you just did. Jesus also said to treat others as we would like to be treated. How would you like it if someone barged in and cut in line after you had patiently waited? I certainly wouldn’t.”
Customer: *silence*
Me: “If you think that is following what Jesus wants, you are clearly mistaken.”
Customer: “Fine! I’ll go to [Competitor]! Little b****!”
Me: “Please do so, and good luck being a Christian! And by the way, I don’t think I’m going to Hell anytime soon. I’m Catholic.”
Customer: *storms out*
(Everyone in the restaurant cheered for me and one gentleman bought me some cannoli!)
(My sister’s a very sweet girl who naturally smiles as she talks, and so she tends to make friends easily, but it also causes the following to occur during her second year of college. My sister enters a classroom and sits down at one of the nearest empty seats to the door.)
Guy: “Hi, I’m [Guy].”
Sister: “Nice to meet you. I’m [Sister]. It’s really nice to meet you.”
(The class then starts and she doesn’t interact with the guy for the rest of the class. When class is over, and my sister starts to get up to leave, the guy grabs her arm.)
Guy: “Hey, are you free now? Let’s go for lunch.”
Sister: *tries to tug her arm away* “Sorry. I have another class to go to, and I’m not really interested. Sorry.”
Guy: *angrily gets in her face, still holding her arm* “Come on! You came and sat down with me, so clearly, you’re interested in me! You can’t lead a guy on like that, you slut!”
Sister: *practically rips her arm out of his grip* “I only sat next to you because it was the closest seat to the door that was free! And I literally only said hi to you and introduced myself, so I didn’t exactly lead you on. Don’t touch me ever again.” *proceeds to run out of the classroom*
(Unfortunately, he continued to have an interest in my sister. He went so far as to follow her to her next class and attempt to enter the classroom after her, and then sat outside her classroom after she convinced her professor to kick him out. When she saw him outside the room, she grabbed the nearest guy’s arm and asked him to pretend they were dating. The only bright sides from this were that he was eventually kicked out of the university for doing this with other female students, and that my sister and the guy she pretended to date became good friends after that incident.)
