A Breakdown Evens Out A Breakup

, , , , | Romantic | February 12, 2019

(I am a cashier at a drugstore, trying to get through my last year of university, when I see a girl in the same uni hoodie as mine enter the store. She seems to be around 18 or 19 and is holding an aftershave that usually costs around £40.)

Girl: *in tears* “I’m so sorry. I bought this a couple of weeks ago and I want to return it. I know I might not be able to because it’s opened, but is there anything you can do?”

Me: “Er… My manager is just over there; I’ll grab her. Is everything… okay?”

Girl: “No, I’m sorry. My boyfriend is at [Distant Uni], and I bought some of his aftershave so I could make his hoodies smell of him — I know that sounds strange — and he broke up with me last week, and I can’t bear to smell this stupid f****** smell anymore, but there’s loads left, and I don’t want to waste my money…“ *breaks down again*

Me: “Oh, no! I’m so sorry about that. This is my manager; could you explain that to her?”

Manager: “I heard, honey, and I’m so sorry. Give me a second and I’ll see what I can do.”

(There are a few seconds while my manager tries to refund it.)

Manager: “Sweetheart, I have some good news: I can refund you even though it’s opened.”

Girl: “Thank you so much. Do you want me to just… I mean… Should I…”

Manager: “I’ll take it from you, honey. Do you want cash?”

Girl: “C-Cash is fine, it’s okay. Thank you.”

Manager: “While you’re here, sweetheart, get some chocolate or ice cream or anything you need, on me. I got divorced last year and I needed all the chocolate I could get!”

(The girl declined, but she came in a week later with a box of chocolates and a thank-you card each for me and my manager. In my card was a phone number. Ten years after that, we’ve been married for five years, and we have a baby daughter.)

An Affair To Dismember

, , , , | Romantic | January 4, 2019

(Things my soon-to-be-ex told me, in reference to his five-plus-year affair, and my sarcastic responses…)

Scumbag: “No, I wasn’t planning to divorce you so I could marry her. Of course not! I was doing it for you, in case you might want to marry again.”

Me: “Wow! With that level of selfless concern for others, the only reason you haven’t been canonized is that you’re not Catholic.”

Scumbag: “She was really more of a friend than anything else. We were just best friends at work.”

Me: “Oh, I see. So, I guess you also f*** Joe, your non-work best friend?”

Scumbag: “I preferred her because we never had conflict. She was more accepting.”

Me: “Imagine that. One boozy, lying cheater is more accepting of another boozy, lying cheater’s boozing, lying, cheating ways? Who’d’ve thunk it? You mean to tell me there’s no conflict in a relationship when you do everything a woman asks of you and constantly kiss her a**? You think maybe you should have tried that with me instead of being a selfish asshole for our entire marriage? Hmm?”

Scumbag: “I know I cheated but I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

Me: “Oh, you wanted to divorce me to be with her but still have me in your life. So, you figured we’d do what, have threeways?”

Scumbag: “I do still love you, in my way.”

Me: “Aw, so sweet. It’s just a shame your way totally sucks, isn’t it?”

This Method Is A Punch Above The Rest

, , , , , , , | Friendly | November 21, 2018

CONTENT WARNING: Child Assault

(I have been working at the county detention center. My youngest sister is constantly getting bullied — name-calling, mainly — on the school bus in the afternoon by the same group of kids, and despite my parents making several complaints to the school, it continues. Finally, one day, one of the boys goes too far, and actually tries to grope her. These kids are all eight to ten years old. I give her some advice from our detention officer certification course instructor.)

Me: “Listen carefully, [Sister]. If that boy tries to put his hands on you again, hit him.”

Sister: “But I’ll get in trouble.”

Me: “I don’t care; you hit him hard. Punch him! Scratch him! Kick him! If you get in trouble, I will leave work and yell at your principal for not stopping this sooner.”

(The remainder of the afternoon is spent teaching her a few strikes and nerve points our instructor taught us. The next day when I get off work, I see her grinning ear to ear.)

Me: “Was your ride home okay?”

Sister: “Yup! He tried to pull my shirt up, but I hit him in the throat! He started crying!”

(She didn’t get in trouble for defending herself.)

Snaking Out Of That Argument

, , , , , | Romantic | November 8, 2018

(My husband and I are in a heated argument.)

Me: *at a volume of 11* “You are so inconsiderate. Acknowledge my feelings. You’re acting like an a**hole.”

Husband: “You know, one time I removed a pair of mating snakes from under the deck because I knew it would freak you out. That was pretty considerate of me.”

Me: “Really? Well, that was nice of you. Poor snakes, breaking up their sexy party.”

(We both laughed and that was that.)

The Key To A Failed Relationship

, , , , | Romantic | October 15, 2018

(I’m standing in the front of our store, cleaning tables and cabinetry, when I hear some shouting. Across the parking lot, in front of the local corner store, a young guy and girl — probably both about twenty years old — are arguing. Not really caring and wanting to finish up, I ignore them and continue working. About two hours later I happen to look out the front door again and see a guy shirtless on the roof of the corner store. Thinking he’s doing some stupid dare with his friends who are all standing in the parking lot looking at him, I call the store.)

Store Clerk: “Hello.”

Me: “Hey, I just wanted to let you know that there is some half-naked guy walking around on your roof.”

Store Clerk: “Yeah, he’s up there looking for his keys. He and his girlfriend had a fight earlier out front, and he got angry and threw his own keys on the roof somewhere.”

Me: “Oh, wow. Well, I hope he finds them, I guess. Sorry for wasting your time.”

(He came down after a couple of hours and hadn’t found his keys. His car got towed the next day. It’s now been over six months, and a set of keys are still on that roof somewhere.)

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