Gets My Oat Vote

, , | Right | December 3, 2019

(I’m the crazy customer in this one. I’m visiting a much larger city which has a lot more choice on offer than in my hometown. I also don’t drink cow’s milk, only plant-based milks.)

Barista: “What can I get you?”

Me: “Ooh. Ooh! You do oat milk! Can I get a soy latte with oat milk, please?”

Barista: *puzzled look* “Umm… Do you want a soy latte?”

Me: “No, a soy latte with oat milk!” *understanding then dawns* “Oh. I’m so sorry. I’m so used to saying ‘soy latte’ to mean non-dairy. I’m not from the big city, you know. Can I have a latte made with oat milk, please?”

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Cycling The Recycling Signs

, , , , , , | Right | December 2, 2019

I was at a food court in a mall, sitting fairly close to the trash cans. Next to the trash cans, there were a couple of recycling bins, one for bottles and one for cans. As I was watching, a woman walked up and dropped her bottle into the bin marked for cans. There was a clinking as the bottle hit metal, and I could see her realize that she’d just dropped the bottle into the wrong bin.

After pausing for a moment, she then reached down and pulled the lids off both bins. I thought maybe she was planning to pull out her bottle and put it in the right container, but instead, she swapped the two lids, placing the lid marked for bottles on the container for cans, and vice versa. She then turned around and spotted me watching. She quickly looked away and hurried off.

I ended up walking over and switching the lids back, but I really have to wonder how you can get so stubborn that you feel the need to swap the lids on recycling bins to pretend that you are “retroactively right” in which bin you dropped your trash into.

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We Knew The Pacific Coast Highway Was A Scam!

, , , , , | Legal | December 2, 2019

(A work friend of mine is hacked on a social networking site, leading me to get a text from someone claiming to be him. I know immediately it isn’t him and I decide to have some fun. This is the exchange verbatim, grammatical errors and all:)

Faux Friend: “Hello How are you doing?”

Me: “I’m good, thanks. How about you?”

Faux Friend: “Good, Well Life Is Treating Me Good And God Has Blessed Me Through (PCH) , I Don’t Know If You Have Heard About Them?”

Me: “Pacific Coast Highway? I used to drive it all the time, back in the day.”

Faux Friend: “I Meant The Cash Donated To Randomly Selected People By The Publishers Clearing House(PCH) to Help and Support People Financially…You’ve Not Gotten Yours?”

Me: “You’re talking about the Illuminati, aren’t you?”

Faux Friend: “OMG. I Got $300,000 Cash From Them! But I Saw Your Name Entitled To The Cash Bonus When Mine Was Delivered To My Doorstep…And I Thought You Would Have Gotten Yours. Am Serious About This And It’s a Life Time Opportunity. Do You Know How To Contact The Claiming Agent To Find More About What Am Actually Talking About?”

Me: “I’ve told you before, I want nothing to do with them! They ruined my math teacher’s life! You should stay away from them! You don’t know what they’ll expect you to do for that money!”

Faux Friend: “This is real and legitimate I was only asked to pay for certificate fee which is $300 And I was delivered in 2 hours.”

Me: “It’s not about some measly $3,000 fee. It’s about what comes next. Have you sworn the oath already?”

Faux Friend: “And also there are a lot of scams am sure that’s why your teacher was scammed But PCH program is real and legitimate, more so I got my money delivered to my Doorstep”

Me: “You think the Illuminati is nothing but a scam? They’re the ones who murdered Vince Vaughn, not Hillary Clinton!”

Faux Friend: “I dont know about the illuminati program but, I will share you the direct PCH manager link so you can claim your winning money asap.. Thank me later you will never regret because asap you got your money you can also tell you Teacher about it…”

Me: “You need to give back that money before it’s too late.”

Faux Friend: “The money is mine [My Name] and not fake I can never pull your leg trust Me apply for it and thank God through me.”

Me: “I KNOW IT’S REAL MONEY!”

Faux Friend: “So you should not doubt me, I will share you now And also the federal government is aware of this and you will see the PCH is 100% real and is not a gimmick.”

Me: “Look, you probably have some time, a grace period. Come over; I’ll call Henry. He can get you someplace safe. Leave the money!”

Faux Friend: “[LINK TO “PCH”]”

Me: Why couldn’t you just have joined the Scientologists, if you needed money so bad?”

Faux Friend: “Text them now that you are ready to claim your winning money.”

Me: “I’ll text saying you want out. Leave the money on the doorstep. And stay away from the windows!”

Faux Friend: “Just text them now and let me know how it goes… I want to hear the good news from you.”

Me: “I can’t. I’m calling your mother.”

(I never heard from him again. BTW, I deliberately changed his $300 to $3,000 because I wanted to keep him around. The thing about Hillary Clinton murdering Vince Vaughn came from I guy I met on a bus in 2009, who assured me he knew many things about her. I was disappointed not to be able to throw him off his game.)

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Last Name, Last Straw

, , , | Right | December 2, 2019

(I work in a copy shop.)

Customer: “I’m here to pick up my order.”

Me: “Okay, what’s the name it’s under?”

Customer: *gives their first name*

Me: “Sorry, what’s the last name?”

Customer: “I didn’t give my last name.”

Me: “Okay.” *looks in the filing cabinet and finds no order filed under her first name* “Sorry, it doesn’t look like it’s under that name. Is there a business name it might be under?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Okay. What’s your last name?”

Customer: “I didn’t give you my last name! It would only be under [First Name]!”

Me: “Okay, but unfortunately, it’s not under that name, and we almost always take a last name or a business name and file the orders that way. What’s your last name anyway? I’ll see if it’s filed under that name.”

Customer: “There’s no point in giving you my last name because I never told it to you when I came in!”

Me: “Can you just tell me your last name, anyway? Because it’s not under your first name and there’s no other way to find it.”

Customer: “No! It’s under [First Name]!”

(I have to go through EVERY single order form in EVERY single file folder in alphabetical order to try and find an order form with her first name on it. I finally find it near the end. I can’t remember but I think it starts with a T or something, because it was filed under her last name!)

Me: “Here it is. It was filed under your last name.”

(And the funny thing, after seeing her order form and last name, I remembered her immediately. I definitely asked for her last name when I booked the order in, and she told me how to spell it.)

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Signing Himself Out Of The Modern Age

, , , , | Right | December 2, 2019

(I work at an assisted living facility. We have a sign-in computer at the front desk. It’s fairly new and while there have been a few who don’t like it, most people have been agreeable about it.)

Visitor: “What’s this? Where’s the book?”

Me: “That’s our new sign-in computer. We’ve done away with the book to save on paper.”

Visitor: “Well, this doesn’t work for me. Give me the book.”

Me: “We don’t have it anymore. Here, I’ll show you how—”

Visitor: *cuts me off* “No! This doesn’t work for me!”

(This repeats over and over, with me offering to show him how to use it — it’s a very user-friendly, super easy interface — and him telling me it ‘doesn’t work for him’ every time. Finally, his wife comes in from parking the car.)

Visitor’s Wife: “Honey, have you signed in?”

Visitor: “NO! I’m not going to. This doesn’t work for me.” *said with all the whiny petulance of a small toddler*

Visitor’s Wife: *rolls eyes* “You’re going to get it, dear. Just do this…” *signs him in while he watches with a sour, pouty face*

Visitor: “Whatever. It doesn’t work for me.”

(Then, he took the printed name badge, LICKED THE BACK, and looked super confused as to why it fell to the floor instead of sticking to his shirt. His wife and I shared a look of bewilderment and shook our heads as she peeled the back off and silently stuck it to him. I managed to not laugh until they left.)

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