Barking Up The Wrong Sub Shop

, , , , | Friendly | February 20, 2020

(I’m in the break room at work when my friend comes in to eat lunch. She has picked up a sandwich from a local chain.)

Friend: “So annoying! I ordered online so it would be ready, but I ordered from the wrong store, apparently.”

Me: “That’s frustrating.”

Friend: “The worst part is that this one wouldn’t just make me my sandwich. They made me buy a new one even though I could show them that I had ordered and paid for one already!”

Me: “But you’re the one who ordered from the wrong store?”

Friend: “I know, but they still should’ve offered to give me a sandwich!”

Me: “It wasn’t their fault, though, and they might’ve gotten in trouble.”

Friend: “I know, but it would’ve been nice of them. Now I’m out $8!”

(I gave up trying to reason with her at that point. I don’t think she ever really understood why they didn’t give her a new sandwich even though it was her mistake.)

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What More Is There To Say?

, , , , | Friendly | February 19, 2020

(I’m talking with a friend.)

Friend: “That sure sucks for you.”

Me: “That’s life. C’est la vie.”

Friend: *pause* “La vee?”

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¡Que Embarazada!

, , , , , | Friendly | February 17, 2020

(My dad has worked with a man from El Salvador for many years, and they have become close friends. When this friend first moved to the US, he took classes to improve his English skills, but in the meantime, the language barrier led to a lot of funny misunderstandings between him and my dad. They got used to laughing together about all the little ways both English and Spanish can be confusing. My dad learned a bit of Spanish from his friend but never enough to really understand a whole conversation. One Father’s Day, my dad thinks it would be nice to call his friend and wish him a happy holiday, and he thinks it would be extra nice to say it in Spanish.) 

Dad: “Hey, I just wanted to wish you a happy Father’s Day! Feliz papa Dios!”

Friend: *laughing uncontrollably*

Dad: “What? Didn’t I say it right?”

Friend: “You meant, ‘Feliz Día del Padre.’ What you actually said was–” *pauses to laugh* “–’Happy potato God!’” 

Dad: *laughing, too* “Well, I was pretty close!”

Friend: “‘Papá’ with the accent on the end means ‘dad,’ but the way you said it with the accent at the beginning, it means ‘potato.’ And ‘día’ means ‘day,’ but ‘Dios’ means ‘God’!”

Dad: *smiling, shrugs* “Well, at least you knew what I meant!”

Friend: “Somehow I always do!”

(Now it has become a tradition that my dad has to call his friend every year on Father’s Day and wish him “Happy Potato God!” When my sister and I call our dad on Father’s Day, we tell him the same.)

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The State Of California Would Like A Word With You

, , , , , | Friendly | February 10, 2020

(There is a tiny island — literally less than 15 square feet — near my house. When I am nine, two friends and I kayak to explore it.) 

Friend #1: *after walking around the whole island* “Okay, so now what should we do?”

Friend #2: “Ooh, I have an idea!” *lights a match* “Let’s make a fire.”

Friend #1 & Me: “No, no, no, no! We are not going to burn the island down!”

Friend #2: “Oh, come on. It’s just a little fire.”

Me: “Okay, first of all, you’re eight, so we aren’t lighting a fire. Second, you are only wearing a bathing suit; like, where did you even get the matches?!”

Friend #2: “I carry them everywhere I go.”

(We kayaked home and she proceeded to light every single candle in my house… without adult supervision, of course. I’m still wondering why parents would let an eight-year-old walk around with matches.)

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Realization In Horrific Harmony

, , , , , | Learning | February 6, 2020

(Our Boy Scout troop is visiting a museum. One of the boys is diagnosed with ADHD, but his parents don’t like him being on medication and regularly have him go without it. As a result, he can be a handful to deal with at times. At the end of the trip, we’re all in the gift shop when a friend and I notice the boy with ADHD grabbing a harmonica from one of the racks and walking with it over to the cash register. Realizing what will happen later, we both exchange horrified looks and immediately turn to one of the assistant scoutmasters who drove up in his own car.)

Me: “Say, is it okay if we ride back with you?”

Assistant Scoutmaster: *confused* “Umm… okay, I guess?”

(So, while the rest of the troop loads up in the van to head back, we get in the car with the assistant scoutmaster. Halfway back, we stop off at a gas station. My friend’s mother, who came along with for the trip and has been riding in the van, gets out with a very annoyed look on her face.)

Me: “Let me guess. [Boy With ADHD] was playing the harmonica the entire time?”

Friend’s Mother: *through clenched teeth* “Non… stop.”

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