Proving Your BS Is Proverbial

, , , , , , | Friendly | February 22, 2019

(One of my coworkers enjoys carpentry as a hobby and a side hustle. He’s done several small to medium projects for our group home where we work and for several coworkers. Today he’s brought in a work in progress that looks like a sign for home decor, with some words starting to get painted on it.)

Me: “Why does it say, ‘PROVE BS?’”

Coworker: “That’s supposed to say, ‘PROVERBS.’ I’m missing my ‘R’ stencil.”

Me: “Ah, I guess that makes more sense than a sign telling us to prove our bulls*** or something.”

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Child Mistaken As Resident Of A Woman’s Shelter, Vows To Buy Some New Sneakers

, , , | Related | November 13, 2018

(My mom does a lot of charity work, and I occasionally get to help her with lighter deliveries of clothing and other goods. One place my mom tries to support is a local shelter aimed at young women and teen girls. I’m about 16 or 17 when this takes place, and since it’s the weekend — with the accompanying chores — I’m not dressed all that fancy.)

Mom: “Hey, [My Name]. You want to help me deliver to [Women’s Shelter] today?”

Me: “Sure, I’m ready if you are!”

Mom: “They’re not expecting me today, but I don’t think they’ll mind as we’ll still be within their usual donation hours.”

(We arrive at the apartment complex with boxes of donated clothing, magazines, etc. Due to the nature of some of the women’s “care,” the location isn’t well-known, and only a few non-volunteers are aware of it. Before we can start unloading, Mom and I get out of the car to explain to the staff on-duty what’s all included. A middle-aged woman, no doubt a coordinator of volunteers, steps outside and nearly shrieks when she sees me.)

Coordinator: “OH!” *gasps and starts to grow frantic, glancing at my oversized sweatshirt and old sneakers* “They didn’t tell me we were getting a new girl in today! Oh, honey, we’ll get a room set up for you right away, but we’ll need a bit of time!”

(The second she catches on, my mom starts laughing too hard to explain. Meanwhile, I’m left standing awkwardly on the driveway, wondering what I can possibly say.)

Mom: “S-she’s my daughter, [Coordinator]!”

Coordinator:Oh! I’m so sorry!”

(My mom was now nearly on the ground in hysterics, so I calmly introduced myself before helping unload the car. The coordinator apologized again, and I dismissed her concerns while secretly resolving to buy some new sneakers.)

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Halfway House Only Gets You Halfway There

, , , , , | Healthy | August 19, 2018

(I’m an EMT. My partner and I are called to a homeless shelter/halfway house for a “sick call.” This means a non-life-threatening issue. We arrive and unload the stretcher. There’s about ten stairs and a small elevator right inside the door. I start to open the door of the elevator when I’m greeted by staff.)

Staff: “You’re going to the second floor. Oh, that elevator doesn’t work.”

Me: “Okay. Do you have another one?”

Staff: “Sure, it’s up here around the corner.”

Me: “Great. How can I access it?”

Staff: “Come on up the stairs and go to the end of the hall.”

Me: “That’s not going to work. Do you have another access point? A ramp, maybe?”

Staff: “We have an elevator around the corner here.”

Me: “That’s great, but if this elevator doesn’t work, how am I going to get my stretcher to the second floor?”

Staff: *exasperated* “There’s an elevator right over here! Right around the corner.”

Me: “I understand that. But how would you like me to get my stretcher up these stairs to get to that elevator?”

Staff: *blank stare*

Me: *to my partner* “Let’s just leave it here, see the patient, and figure it out from there.”

(When we got to the other elevator it was so small our stretcher wouldn’t have fit, anyway, even if we folded the back.)

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