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Alcohol Leaves No Survivors

, , , , , , , | Friendly | May 25, 2018

My Muslim friend doesn’t drink, but she always thought it was funny when other people did and got a bit silly. Once we were having a small get-together and she decided she was going to mix us all cocktails. Even with our instructions telling her how much to put in, she made them strong; she used at least twice, if not three times as much alcohol as I would use.

Years later, she posted something on a social networking site about being a non-drinker and how annoying people were about it. I remembered this party and the cocktails, so I jokingly replied mentioning it. She went nuts at me, saying it never happened — maybe she doesn’t remember it but it happened — that she had never even touched the outside of a bottle of alcohol — a lie — and that I was malicious for posting it.

I realise that maybe I made a mistake posting publicly, as some of her Muslim friends and family might not know that she used to do things like that, and I have apologised for this. But I do not appreciate being called a liar.

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Good Listening Skills Are Rare To Medium Rare

, , , , | Right | May 7, 2018

(While taking a food order for a really lovely table, one of them has trouble paying attention.)

Customer: “Can I get the rump steak?”

Me: “Of course! How would you like that cooked?”

Customer: “Oh, can I get it with chips?”

Me: “Yeah, sure. Not a problem. How do you like it cooked? Medium? Rare?”

Customer: “It comes with mushrooms? Can I get it without?”

Me: “Yes, definitely. No worries. How would you like your meat done?”

Customer: “And pepper sauce. Is that okay?”

Me: “Absolutely, not a problem. Now, how do you take your steak?”

Customer: *blank look*

(As I’m trying to find a different way of asking one of his friends chimed in:)

Friend: “[Customer]! For God’s sake! How the hell do you want your steak done? The lassie’s only asked you four times!”

(Cue laughter from the rest of the table and the poor chap getting teased, “Did you hear that, [Customer]?!” for the rest of the night!)


This story is part of the Steak roundup!

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Read the Steak roundup!

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The Trump Burger: Well Done With Ketchup

, , , , , | Related | April 17, 2018

(I live in Scotland. My little sister and I are playing charades using an app on an iPad. We are playing the food category and the words come up. It is, “American _____,” so my sister decides to split the dish to make it easier. Here is how our crazy conversation goes.)

Sister: “Okay, the first word. Think of a big country.”

Me: “Russia?”

Sister: “No, no, like, think Trump.”

Me: “America?”

Sister: “Yeah! Then—”

Me: “[Sister], you’re eight! Where did you learn about Trump?!”

Sister: “I don’t know. I heard a lot of people talking about Donald Trump, the President of America. Anyway— OH, MY GOD! YOU ONLY HAVE TEN SECONDS LEFT! WHAT DO YOU CALL PEOPLE FROM AMERICA?”

Me: *panicking* “Um, um, BURGERS!”

 

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A Capital Solution

, , , , , , | Related | April 2, 2018

(My cousin is coming over from Ireland for a few days. He messages me before he takes off. About five hours later he calls me. I have worried for a while at this point, because it shouldn’t have taken him so long.)

Cousin: “Hey, I’m at… St. Pancras.”

Me: “St. Pancras? As in London?”

Cousin: “Yeah. Where do I go?”

Me: “Mate, I’m in Edinburgh.”

Cousin: “Cool, when will you get here?”

Me: “It’s, like, eight hours away.”

Cousin: “Aww, am I going to have to wait here for eight hours?”

(I ended up buying him a flight from London to Edinburgh, and literally had to talk him through everything right up to getting on the plane. It turns out he flew to Gatwick Airport and took the train to St. Pancras. He had no idea where Edinburgh was, but since it was a capital city, he assumed it would be in London. I’ve decided to visit him, instead, from now on.)

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They’re Sockingly Forgetful

, , , , , | Friendly | February 18, 2018

(My flatmate and I spend the winter holidays with our respective families, and post gifts to one another for Christmas. I receive a pair of socks as part of my gift, and bring them back to university with me. The first time I wear the socks, this conversation happens.)

Flatmate: “Oh, love your socks. Those are so cute!”

Me: *playing along* “Absolutely. Someone very clever and fashionable gave me them for Christmas!”

(The second time I wear the socks…)

Flatmate: “Seriously, I love those. What is that animal on them? Squirrels? They’re so nice!”

Me: “Yeah, thank you. They are great socks.”

(And again…)

Friend: “Those socks are still great. You have good taste!”

Me: “You do remember you gave me these for Christmas, right?”

Flatmate: “Wait… I did?!”

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