Can Never Be Too Early

, , , , | Friendly | October 28, 2019

(Saturday evening, my friends and I get together over a chat service to watch a movie. While we’re waiting for everyone to get online, we start chatting about my recent job hunt.)

Me: “[Fiance] was nice enough to wake me up at eight this morning for my interview.”

Friend: “Aww, that’s so sweet. How’d it go?”

Me: “I don’t know. My interview is on Monday.”

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The Female Is More Deadly

, , , , | Related | October 15, 2019

(I am in the process of buying my parents a gift from the store my mother works at, and I need to talk to her store manager about it. I call the store and my mother answers the call, so I put on a high-pitched, close to screeching voice, asking for the manager by name. When she asks for my details, I refuse to give them, demanding to be put through. In due course, I give my mother the gift. She asks how I managed to buy it from her store without her knowing, and I remind her of the phone call.)

Mum: “That was you? You caused so much trouble for [Store Manager].”

Me: “How could I cause trouble for [Store Manager]?”

Mum: “Did I tell you that he gave his fiance’s sister a job? She could hear that it was a female on the phone and threw a fit because I put a call from a woman through to him when he’s engaged to her sister.” 

Me: “Are you kidding? Does she not realise that he works retail and many customers are actually women?”

Mum: “Yeah, I know, I always thought that [SM’s Fiance] was crazy, but her sister takes the cake.”

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Cubic Hurtonium

, , , , | Right | July 9, 2019

(I work for a nationwide jewelry company. People will often come to us because we can repair jewelry in-store, even if it wasn’t purchased from us. The only exception is if the metal or gemstones aren’t genuine, because the tools we used for repair would destroy the pieces or crack the imitation stones. Each time a customer brings in a piece to be repaired, we have to verify the metal is indeed gold, silver, or platinum, and that the stones are genuine. A young couple comes into the store, and they approach me at the repair counter.)

Me: “Hello! How can I help you today?”

Woman: *hands me her engagement ring* “Yeah, one of the things that holds the diamond on the ring broke off.”

Me: “One of the prongs? Well, it’s a good thing you noticed. Did you buy this piece from us?”

Woman: *glances back at her fiancé, who is engrossed in his phone, then gives me a smug look* “No, he bought it from [Famous Higher-End Brand], of course. He wouldn’t buy me any of the cheap rings you have here. Right, babe?”

Man: *barely glances up* “Uh, yeah, from [Higher-End Brand].”

Woman: “See? But the closest store is too far away, and somebody told me you’d fix it even if it didn’t come from here.”

Me: *maintaining my retail smile* “Yes, of course. I just need to examine the ring and have you fill out some paperwork.”

(I hand her a form to fill out and then begin by cleaning the ring thoroughly. It is DISGUSTING, but thankfully, I always wear gloves when handling other people’s jewelry. Then, I look at it under a microscope to make sure there is only one broken prong, and I can’t find the metal stamp in the ring shank. Those can sometimes wear off, but it looks like the inside of the shank is actually flaking. Also, something about the stone looks off. Less expensive diamonds can often be cloudy or have black spots, but this one almost looks like it has fogged up from the inside. I grab the electronic tester and hold it to the stone. A green light means it is genuine diamond, but a red light means it is CZ, or some other imitation. When that red light lights up, my stomach drops. I test it three more times and get three more red lights. No way did this ring come from [Higher-End Brand].)

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am? Sir? I’m afraid we won’t be able to repair the prong on your ring.”

Woman: “What? Why not?!”

Me: *preparing myself for a meltdown* “I’m afraid that this ring is most likely not made of precious metal, so our tools would not work on it. Also, your stone is not a genuine diamond, so any heat from our tools would crack it.”


Man: *finally realizes what I just said* “Uh… Come on, baby, let’s go. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

Me: “You’re welcome to try another store for a second opinion, of course.”

(I carefully placed the ring on the counter. The woman snatched her ring up without another word and stormed out of the store with her fiancé behind her. I left the counter a few seconds later and moved to a window with a view of the parking lot, just in time to see this woman PUNCH her fiancé square in the nose! She started screaming at him and hitting him around the head and shoulders. My manager ended up having to call the police to escort them out of our parking lot.)

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It’s Still In The Car Somewhere… Breeding

, , , , | Romantic | May 18, 2019

My fiancé and I are traveling across the country. It is nighttime and I am driving down the interstate. My fiancé is dozing in the passenger seat and I have my arm outstretched with my hand on his knee and the air blowing directly on me. I have fairly long hair and it tends to get everywhere.

I began feeling a tickling sensation along my arm and figured it was a hair, so I pulled my hand back and tried to pull the hair away so it wasn’t bothering me. This happened a few more times before I managed to find the culprit: a daddy long legs spider. I screamed, threw the spider — at my poor fiancé — and jerked the wheel a bit. He, in turn, got angry with me until I started asking him to make sure the spider was dead, and he told me it was and that it had ended up in the backseat. We continued on our trip and had a great time together.

However, a few weeks later I asked him about it again and he told me that he had no clue where the spider had gone and he had just wanted me to not kill us due to freaking out over a spider. It still makes me shudder more than six months later.

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, , , , , , | Romantic | May 6, 2019

(I’m teasing my fiancé about how much he likes it when I talk in a particular voice during “fun time.”)

Me: “You are such a dirty old man.”

Fiancé: “Well, it’s like ASMR!”

Me: “I don’t think ASMR is meant to have that effect on you.”

Fiancé: “It’s supposed to give you tingles. I don’t see why I should get judged based on what part of me tingles.”

(Yes, I laughed.)

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