The Unkind Leading The Blind

, , , , | Working | January 20, 2020

(My dad travels a lot for work. He is also practically blind without his glasses. One night, while asleep in a hotel room, he thinks he hears one of us kids crying and stumbles out the door of his room to find us. It is then that he wakes up properly and realises he is locked out of his room, without his glasses, in an unfamiliar corridor, in an unfamiliar hotel, wearing only his undies. For fifteen minutes, he gropes around walls, doors, and fire hydrants until he eventually finds his way to the stairs, and then along another corridor until he finally gets to the reception desk. There’s no one there — it’s the middle of the night — but he can hear some noise in the back room.)

Dad: “Hello? 

(Two employees come out, quietly chortling, and look unsurprised to see Dad standing there in his smalls.)

Dad: “Sorry, mate, I just need some help getting back into my room; I’ve managed to lock myself out.”

Employee: “Yeah, mate, we’ve been watching you on the security camera and were wondering how long it’d take you to get down here.” *laughs hysterically*

(Fortunately, my dad has a wicked sense of humour and happily tells this story to anyone.)

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The Tires Are Flat But The Coke Is Not

, , , , , , | Working | January 19, 2020

About a week before my 21st birthday, I was driving out in the country and I blew not one, but both tires on my passenger side. A piece of metal from some farm equipment chewed through my tires and I only had one spare. 

I had to walk five miles to get to a place that had a payphone; this was 30 years ago and before cell phones were popular. I ended up finding a bar. I went in and called my grandfather to come and get me so we could get some new tires. But where I was, it was going to be an hour before he could get to me. After walking in the hot August sun, I was thirsty, so I headed to the bar and asked if I could buy a Coke. I knew they had them as they were in the glass-front fridge, presumably for mixed drinks. 

The bartender refused me. I tried to argue, saying that I only wanted a soda as I was hot. He refused me again since I was underage. 

I don’t know the laws in the area, so he may have been within his rights or may just have been a jerk, but in either case, I was hot, thirsty, and fuming mad because he refused to even offer me a glass of water. 

A week later, I turned 21. I took the day off of work to get my ID updated and that night I went to the bar. 

I walked in holding my new license that showed I was now 21 and the bartender beamed at me and asked what he could get me, now well willing to serve me.

I simply said, “My f****** Coke.”

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She’s Not Exactly A Hot Slice  

, , , , | Right | January 17, 2020

While road-tripping, we stop at an Italian restaurant. My husband and I decide to split a pizza. The menu doesn’t give the dimensions of the pizzas, just small, medium, and large. We ask our server what size she would recommend for two people, the small or the medium.

After thinking a bit, she says, “Well, they both have six slices!” We think she’s joking, but she’s not. Eventually, she ends up showing us the approximate sizes with her hands.

We get the medium. It does indeed have six slices.

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Sit Down Or Fall Down

, , , , , | Working | January 17, 2020

(I’ve recently broken my ankle, but I’m beginning to walk on it again using a walker or, in this instance, a cane. We are going to a restaurant, and all of the handicap spots are taken. They drop me off and go to park in the back of the parking lot. I go inside to check in.)

Me: “Hello, we have a reservation for [My Name].”

Host: “Yes, your table is ready, but we won’t be able to seat you until the entire party is here.”

Me: “Could you make an exception? I’m struggling a little here—” *gestures to my walking boot and cane* “—and I need to sit down.”

Host: “You’re welcome to sit in the waiting area.”

(I look. All of the waiting area seats are taken. I move towards them, but no one offers me a seat, and the people I ask refuse. My family still hasn’t come in from parking.)

Me: “Please, I really need to sit down.”

Host: “Ma’am, I can’t let you sit until everyone is here. If you don’t like it, I can get the manager.”

Me: *almost in tears from pain* “Why can’t you just let me sit at the table?”

Host: “It’s policy.”

(At this point, another party was called, and I took one of the waiting area seats they vacated. My family members took almost another ten minutes to find parking and walk from the far spot inside, so it’s a good thing the other party got called or I might have collapsed.)

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Lean And Mean

, , , , , , | Working | January 17, 2020

(I am on a business trip to New York. At my suggestion, our group goes to a famous NYC deli for dinner, a place known for their pastrami and for their brusque staff. When the waitress comes over to get our order, this conversation ensues:)

Me: “I’ll have a pastrami sandwich, lean, and—”

Waitress: “Have you ever been here before?”

Me: “No, but I’ve been to other delis.”

Waitress: “It’s just that here, ordering the pastrami lean is considered a cardinal sin. I mean, if you want to take away all the fat and have something like jerky…”

Me: *smiling* “Okay, do it your way.”

Waitress: *mimes cracking a whip at me*

(Later on:)

Waitress: “I try to be nice to people, but sometimes I have to be a b****, and that can get me in trouble.”

Me: “Wait, isn’t being nice against company policy?”

Waitress: “Oh, I wouldn’t get in trouble with my boss…”

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