We All Have That One Show We’d Die For

, , , , , , | Related | July 2, 2020

My mum has a severe lung condition which causes her to get very out of breath from walking any faster than a turtle on land. We both enjoy watching the old crime drama “Poirot,” and we have seen every episode multiple times. Or so we thought.

Mum’s left the TV on a channel playing “Poirot” reruns, disappearing off to do something upstairs after one episode ends – she’s not precious about making sure she’s there to see another since she’s seen them all. I’m doing other things whilst in the same room when the next one starts. It takes a hot minute for me to realise that I can’t place this episode

Me: *Yelling* “Mum, do you remember the Poirot episode where a girl dressed as a bumblebee is drowned in an apple-bobbing tub at a Hallowe’en party?”

Mum: *Distantly* “What?”

Me: “A bumblebee girl getting murdered.”

There’s a bang, followed by frantic footsteps as she runs downstairs and into the living room and flies to her seat. As a result, she’s bent forward in her chair and is “whistling,” a bad sign that she’s not taking in enough air, so I rush up and get her inhaler.

Me: *Alarmed* “Why did you just do that?!”

Mum: Poirot… I’ve… not… seen!

Me: “It’s not worth killing yourself over!”

Mum: Yes, it is!

She was fine. I was very anxious for about twenty minutes until her breathing normalised, and I scolded her — after the episode — for being stupid with her health.

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Literally Screams For Ice Cream

, , , , | Right | July 2, 2020

A car pulls up in the drive-thru lane.

Customer: “Why do you not have ice cream?!”

Coworker: “Sorry, sir, our machine is currently broken. We are waiting for a delivery for a new part, so until then, we are unable to fix it.”

Customer: “What are you going to do about it? I want ice cream!”

Coworker: “Sorry, sir, there isn’t anything we can do until we get the part. There are two other [Restaurant]s in our town; they should have ice cream.”

Customer: “That’s not good enough!”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, sir, but there isn’t anything I can do other than send you to one of our other restaurants.”

Customer: “NOT GOOD ENOUGH! GET ME WHAT I WANT!”

Coworker: “Unfortunately, sir, I can’t. The other restaurants will have ice cream.”

Customer: “F*** YOUR OTHER RESTAURANTS! I WANT IT FROM HERE!”

Coworker: “Sir, I can’t sell you [product] while the machine is broken.”

Customer: “NOT GOOD ENOUGH! F*** THIS!”

The customer sped off out the drive-thru lane. Luckily, there wasn’t a car in front of him.

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Sinfully Delicious, Part 7

, , , | Right | July 1, 2020

We are required to offer confectionery to all our customers.

Me: “Can I also tempt you with any half-price sweets or chocolates?”

Customer: “Oooh, you’re always trying to tempt us! You’re worse than Satan!”

Me: “That’s a little unfair! I like to think we’re about level.”

Related:
Sinfully Delicious, Part 6
Sinfully Delicious, Part 5
Sinfully Delicious, Part 4
Sinfully Delicious, Part 3

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Praise To The Lamb(ing Sheds)!

, , , , , , , | Related | June 30, 2020

I suppose I should start with a mild warning as this story, while funny, is also kind of gross. Welcome to my life.

Allow me to start with a little back story. My father’s wife appears to have done all of her research on how to be a Step-Mother in certain children’s books. I don’t mean she could be a little grumpy; I mean she got cease and desist letters from The Mouse.

On the Sunday evening in question, I had just gotten home and was trying my d***edest to get out of my boots, an effort hampered by the fact that, despite being fifteen, I had worked thirty-six hours in the lambing sheds that weekend and was so tired I had walked home, right past the motorcycle I had ridden to work.

As soon as she heard the front door, she started in on me through the door that separated the kitchen from the front hall, screeching at me that I hadn’t done my chores and I had better get caught up right now or no supper for me.

I said, “I’ve been at work all weekend; you know that. You insisted I take the job.”

As soon as I said the words, I knew it was a mistake, and sure enough, she ripped the door open and took a deep breath to engage in her favourite pastime: berating me for being a waste of skin and air.

Sadly for her — but not me — she took the deep breath after she opened the door.

After thirty-six hours in the sheds, I was covered in… I’m not going to be specific, but suffice to say that if it was liquid and could be found inside a sheep, I was wearing it. (I ended up having to throw all of my clothes out because even a boil wash couldn’t get the smell out.)

Her eyes bugged out, she went green, and she dived past me to throw up in the downstairs bathroom. I finished undressing, threw my clothes and boots out the front door, and went upstairs to scrub myself down with Swarfega: proper manly, gritty cleanser.

You’d think that would be an end to it, right? Wrong.

As I fell asleep — passed out — it was to the sound of her howling at my father because he wouldn’t let her wake me up to vacuum the downstairs and do the dishes.

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Unfiltered Story #199809

, , | Unfiltered | June 30, 2020

I’m in a large local park, it is a large open space with a few shops here and there, i’m waiting to buy some drinks behind a particularly difficult person.

Customer: Wait you overcharged me.

Cashier: I’m not sure i did.

Customer: Yes you did! those drinks are 80p you charged me £1,20!

Cashier: (looking the shelf he picked it up from) I’m sorry sir, the small bottles are 80p the big bottles are £1,20.

Customer: well i want my money back!

Cashier: Ok sir, if you put all your items on teh tray i can refund you.

Customer: No.

Cashier: I’m sorry? i can’t refund you for items if you don;t return them

Customer: what if i don’t want to give them back.

(The cashier starts to look very worried, none of the staff seem to know what to do. She tries to pull the tray and what items are left on there towards her. Suddenly the customer lurches forwards over the counter, without thinking i manage to grab his collar pulling him away, he falls hard on his backside.)

Customer: You , you i’m calling the police. (Runs out waving his phone around.)

Me: Are you ok?

Cashier: Yes, i think so. Thank you for helping i thought he was going to hit me.

Me: I didn’t actually think, i grabbed him and he sort of fell over.

Cashier 2: oh i saw that too, he fell over.

Cashier: Oh yes! he fell over of course he did.

Me: No i meant, oh of course. I will take a seat and see if the police show up.

(They did, they asked everyone what happened, and came to me. I answered honestly, but thankfully no charges where ever brought against me. The angry customer, was last seen getting force ably carried into a police van.)