Trying To Lord It Over You From The Drive-Thru

, , , , , | Right | May 27, 2020

I live in one of few states not under full quarantine yet. Many restaurants are closed except for drive-thru, including ours. A coworker of mine is taking orders through drive-thru.

Customer: “Do you read the Bible, [Coworker]?

Coworker: “No, I’m not religious.”

The customer starts ranting.

Customer: “This disease is a punishment from God! Repent while you still have time!”

She simply took his order and then he went to the next window asking the same question, again ranting when given the same answer. A few minutes later, the same customer went through the drive-thru again, this time blowing a trumpet. We still don’t know what the deal was but everyone was talking about “trumpet guy” by the end of the day.

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Thanos’s Good Ideas Continue To Pay Off Somehow

, , , , , , , | Friendly | May 26, 2020

I’m a ski instructor that works in the Austrian Alps. I’m in charge of a group of ski students from a boarding school in the UK.

One of my students is wearing a suit of motocross armour under his ski clothes — a full neck guard, breastplate, shoulder armour, elbow and knee pads, gauntlets, buttplate, and calf armour. They are all made of the same reinforced plastic as his ski helmet. He wears it as he is “paranoid that he’d get hurt on the slopes.” We all laugh and call him a wimp. As his armour is painted bright gold, everyone calls him “Thanos.”

This happens on the third day of skiing. Thanos manages to get into the ski lift ahead of us, and there’s a group of what looks like university-age girls speaking in obvious American accents. They’re quite loud and when in the queue, they use their poles to disconnect the skis of the person in front of them before shoving them aside before taking their spot. It’s gotten more than one person angry, but the girls ignore them.

They reach Thanos, but when they try to disconnect his skis, he moves his leg out of the way, lightly knocking one of them on the ankle in the process. Those girls go ballistic, shouting about him being rude and a jerka**. They start swearing, but Thanos has reached the front by then and goes up the lift.

I think that’s the end of it, but that is not the case. When Thanos reaches the top, he patiently waits for the rest of us, but the university girls get up there first. They see him and start shouting and swearing at him, calling him rude and demanding an apology.

Naturally, all they get is a flat refusal. They take that poorly, to say the least. They then start hitting him with their ski poles and punching him with their fists. He turtles up and takes the hits, calling out for help while telling his assailants to desist. The girls push him over and then they notice that he is Chinese and add accusations about the recent health crisis — this is during the outbreak in Italy.

At this point, I arrive with a few more students. Seeing us and some ski patrol guys rushing toward them, the girls run off, leaving Thanos behind.

Thanos says cheerfully, getting up, “Well, thank goodness for my armour.”

[Student #1] asks, “Did that even hurt?”

“Nope,” Thanos responds. “Barely felt a thing.”

“Dang, that armour’s tough,” I observe. “I’ll be more worried about the person that rams into you than you.”

“Told you all that my paranoia was justified,” Thanos says smugly.

[Student #2] asks, in an appalled tone, “This was what you were paranoid about?”

I ask him, “Should we go to the police? Press charges?”

Thanos just says, “Nah. It’s our holiday. Let them go. Besides, they’re long gone by now.”

We reluctantly agree with him and continue skiing, but I just wonder what would have happened if Thanos wasn’t wearing his armour or if they had gone after one of the other students. Would they be unharmed and treat the whole thing as a joke? Those girls could have hurt someone badly, and I can only hope that they face justice at some point in the future.

Thanos Had One (1) Good Idea

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PLEASE Keep Washing Your Hands

, , , , , | Healthy | May 26, 2020

I have a job that requires frequent handwashing, even prior to a certain global health crisis. A combination of the handwashing, stress, and weather results in what I suspect is eczema on my hands. I’ve never dealt with it before, and regular moisturizer isn’t cutting it, so eventually I go to see a dermatologist.

The doctor does a quick exam and determines that it is, in fact, eczema.

Dermatologist: “I’d recommend [Hand Cream] and I’ll prescribe you [Steroid Cream]. What did you say you did for a living? Is it possible you could wash your hands less often?”

Me: “I’m… not sure that’s really possible. I work in a lab, studying [bacteria known to cause flesh-eating disease].”

The doctor was speechless for a second and then laughed. I doubt she’d gotten that answer before.

Thanks to the prescription cream and a better moisturizing regimen, my hands are much improved, though I still need to wash them frequently!

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Hopefully, These Policies Outlive The Crisis

, , , , , | Right | May 26, 2020

Our management has put three signs up on the store’s front window as a result of the recent health situation. The first one shows our new hours, 8:00 am to 8:00 pm, rather than our usual 7:00 am to 12:00 am. The second one says that we are no longer allowing returns, refunds, or exchanges. The third one says not to enter the store if you have symptoms.

One morning, around 7:45 am, an angry-looking older woman starts pounding on the door. The manager tries to tell her we’re not open through the glass door, but she doesn’t go away. Finally, fifteen minutes later, he lets her in.

Customer: “What the h*** is wrong with you?! I’ve been waiting an hour to get in here!”

This is an absolute lie. The manager ignores it.

Manager: “I’m sorry, ma’am. Because of the outbreak, we’re opening at eight now. I couldn’t have let you in until just now.”

Customer: “That’s absurd! What kind of store is this?! If you’re going to change your hours, you should let people know!”

Manager: “We did let people know. There’s a sign right there with our new hours in very large lettering.”

Customer: “That’s just words on a paper; it doesn’t mean anything! Haven’t you ever heard of a teensy, tiny, little thing called, oh, I don’t know, customer service?!

My manager smiles like Jack Nicholson in “The Shining.”

Manager: “What can I help you with?”

Customer: “About d*** time!”

She holds up a plastic bag with our store’s logo on it.

Customer: “I bought this roast chicken yesterday and it was bad. I want to return it and get my money back.”

In the same tone, he tells her about our new hours and policies.

Manager: “I’m sorry, ma’am. Because of the outbreak, we are no longer doing returns or refunds.”

Customer:What?! How can you not be doing refunds?!”

Manager: “It’s unsafe to allow products that have been removed from the store back into the store in case they’ve been contaminated.”

Customer: “You can’t do that! This chicken was bad and you’re supposed to give me back my money!”

Manager: “We can’t help you with that at this time.”

Customer: “You can’t just say you’re not giving refunds anymore if you don’t tell people!”

Manager: “There’s a sign on the door saying that we’re not doing it anymore.”

Customer: “F*** your signs, f*** your chicken, and f*** you!”

She turns around and stomps out of the store, lifting the chicken over her head and slamming it down onto the pavement in the parking lot on her way out.

Me: “If she didn’t read the first two signs, what are the odds she read the one about not coming in if you’re sick?”

Manager: “We are all going to die.”

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We’re Not Kitten; This Lady Is Great

, , , , , , , | Friendly | May 25, 2020

Last week, we received word that the local shelter had been running low on food and supplies to feed the animals there, as many had turned to the shelter for help feeling their pets during quarantine. This takes place in our local grocery store.

Old Lady: “Run me over, why don’t you! My, that’s a lot of pet stuff. I’m guessing you guys have a bunch of pets.”

We have a cart full of bags of food and litter, as well as wet food.

Me: “It’s not for us. The humane society is running low on food, so we’re donating.”

Old Lady: “Oh, well, good for you.”

Her phone rings and she wanders off.

Me: “Huh. Weird.”

A few minutes later, the lady hunts us down in the dog food aisle and shoves a $20 bill into my mom’s hand. She refuses to take it back no matter what.

Old Lady: “I have pets, too, you know.”

We used that extra money to buy kitten formula and food, as it is kitten season. Faith in humanity: restored.

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