(My friend and I are walking into a store with a blood drive van parked upfront.)
Recruiter: “Hi! Would you like to donate blood? It could save a life!”
Friend: “Sorry. I don’t believe in helping others.”
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(The restaurant I work for allows us to dress up on Halloween, provided we do not wear a mask or anything revealing, too scary, or otherwise inappropriate. I dress up like a female biker as this is the easiest way to dress up and still follow the rules. To add little extra touches to my costume, I slap on some fake tattoos and use makeup to create a black eye. I am working drive-thru and a few people comment on the black eye, but they just remark on what a good job I have done with the makeup. Then, a gentleman pulls up to the window.)
Customer: “Oh, my God. Are you okay?”
Me: *joking* “Yeah. You should see the other guy, though.”
Customer: *completely serious* “You mean to tell me a MAN did that to you?! I thought you got into a fight with another girl!”
Me: “No, sir. No one did this to me. It’s makeup.”
Customer: “Are you sure? You don’t have to lie if someone is hitting you.”
Me: “I’m perfectly aware of that, sir, but I assure you it’s just makeup. See?”
(I wipe my finger on the “bruise” and show him the color on my finger.)
Customer: “Oh, okay. I thought I was going to have to beat someone up for you.”
Me: “I can tell you right now: if someone ever hit me I would make sure they SERIOUSLY regretted it immediately!”
Customer: “I bet you would!”
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(I’ve just finished stocking an end-cap of soup cans. It has taken me about 20 minutes to get them all lined up properly. As I’m walking away, a little boy of about six or seven comes charging up. He kicks the cans on the bottom shelf over, sending them flying everywhere. Then, he grabs two and throws them, one hitting another customer in the shin and the other smashing right through a glass bottle of cheap wine.)
Me: “HEY! What the heck are you doing, kid?!”
Boy: “My mommy said I should go make someone else miserable for once!”
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(It’s Halloween, and I’m dressed up as a vampire and wearing a pentacle necklace. The crew is planning on going out after work for a party.)
Me: “Did you find everything you needed tonight?”
Customer: “Yes, thank you. Can I just say that I think it was very nice of them to let you all dress up for tonight? I really like what you have on.”
Me: “Thank you, ma’am.”
Customer: “But don’t you think you took it a little too far?”
Me: “Uh… took what too far?”
Customer: “Well, I understand that you’re supposed to be some type of vampire, but don’t you think that necklace is taking it too far?”
Me: “Oh, that. That’s not part of my costume. I always wear that.”
Customer: *loudly* “Well if you want to risk burning in H*** for wearing that devil worshiping symbol, that’s just fine with me… but they shouldn’t be letting you wear that here in a public place!”
Me: *sarcastically* “Well, why shouldn’t they let me wear it? After all, we all practice together and I’m the high priestess. In fact as soon as you leave, we’re gonna close up the store, start a bonfire in the parking lot, and then dance naked around it until dawn.”
Customer: *to one of my managers*“Aren’t you going to do anything about what she said to me?”
Manager #1: “Yes, ma’am. As soon as you leave, we’re going to close the store.”
Customer: “THAT’S IT?!”
Manager #2: “Of course not, ma’am. You heard the rest of our… plans.”
(And with the kind of timing that only happens once in a lifetime, a stock boy unwittingly walked out of the back room while taking his uniform shirt off at the same time. The customer practically ran out of the store.)
(My son is talking to me about one of his Lego “Star Wars” sets.)
Son: “I want to try to build it with you later this week. It’s a model of the escape pod that C3PO and R2D2 use to escape to Tatooine in episode four, and it comes with a little Lego C3PO and R2D2!”
(Being a seven-year-old, he’s not very good at keeping all of his Lego pieces organized. There are little bitty Lego pieces all over my house. So it comes as no surprise that he loses a few pieces after playing for a while.)
Son: “I’m missing the two figurines from the set!”
Me: “They’re probably somewhere around the house; we’ll just have to look for them.”
(My wife chimes in, addressing our son.)
Wife: “I think I saw R2D2 under your bed.”
(My wife goes upstairs to get it and sets it on the table next to our son’s breakfast plate. My son sits down at the table, picks up the figurine, and looks at it, speaking very matter-of-factly.)
Son: “Mom, this is not the droid I’m looking for.”
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