My city’s small airport has only two parking lots: one for long-term parking and one for short-term. You pay for your parking at a single gated booth with a time-stamped ticket when you leave with your car, regardless of which lot you parked in. (The entrances to each lot distribute different tickets.)

The long-term parking is ridiculously expensive, but I park my car there anyway when I take a flight to my sister’s wedding because alternative parking, public transportation, and even rideshares aren’t available in my small, remote city. I return from my sister’s wedding on a flight that lands after midnight several days later. Dreading the hundreds of dollars I will be due for parking, I discover that there is no one manning the exit booth so late, and the gate is merely left open. I gratefully leave with my free parking.

Just over a week later, my mom flies up to help me pack up to move to a different, larger city. She parks her rental car in the short-term lot when dropping me off for my flight at midday to help me wrangle my cat and other bags to the check-in. She then leaves and relates a story back to me later.

Apparently, upon leaving the short-term lot, she discovered that she had left her purse back at my old home. The attendant at the parking booth then took my mom’s phone as collateral so that she would return to pay the $3 due for her short-term parking.

I guess they really needed the $3 to make up for the revenue they lost leaving the gate open overnight the week before.

We are potty training my young son. He dislikes pooping on the toilet and would rather have a diaper. In an effort to get him excited about sitting down on the toilet, we sing a chant to him that my husband came up with.

Chant: “PUSH IT OUT, SQUEEZE IT OUT, GOOOOO, [SON]!”

He laughs and at least makes a small effort, and we are happy to have some progress.

Fast forward a couple of weeks. We’re at a home improvement store, and I have to head to the restroom right off the bat; I am about eight months pregnant and need to GO! I take my son with me since he’s not wearing a diaper and it’s one of the first times we’ve gone out without one.

It’s a Saturday, and the restroom is pretty full, so we duck into a stall, and I do the potty dance while helping him try to go. It’s my turn, and as soon as I sit down, my darling launches into his poop anthem.

Son: “PUSH IT OUT, SQUEEZE IT OUT, GOOOOO, MOMMY!”

There was silence, and then a restroom full of women started cracking up.

There wasn’t a way for me to wait out the crowd so I could sneak out, so I walked out of the stall red-faced and explaining the story behind my little cheerleader’s encouraging words.

I work in a restaurant. This is one small but funny interaction that tickled me.

Customer: “Can I get the beef boing gorgon?”

Me: “One beef bourguignon coming right up!” 

Related:
The Horrors Of Mispronunciation, Part 6
The Horrors Of Mispronunciation, Part 5
The Horrors Of Mispronunciation, Part 4
The Horrors Of Mispronunciation, Part 3
The Horrors Of Mispronunciation, Part 2

My manager (and owner) of the little convenience store I work in is a scary old Eastern European lady. Her family franchises a bunch of the stores in the city

I am working a night shift, and [Manager] is in the office Facetiming relatives in her home country. A customer comes in. From his overall swagger and attitude, plus my experience working the night shift, I know he’s going to be trouble.

Customer: “Sup, sexy. I want my smokes, but I don’t want you to be a b**** about the ID.”

Before I can even speak a word, my manager barrels out of the office faster than a woman of her age really should. She suddenly grabs the customer’s arm and forcefully walks him toward the exit.

Manager: “Out! You! Out! You no talk to her that way! She a lady! You talk to her like you talk to your mother!”

They get to the exit, and now the customer is standing outside.

Manager: “We try again, but this time with respect!”

The customer is confused for a second, as he hasn’t finished processing what has just happened. He eventually recovers, sheepishly walks into the store, and says to me:

Customer: “Uh… a pack of [cigarettes], please.”

Me: “May I see your ID, please?”

Customer: “I, uh… I don’t have it. Could I just—”

The customer then looks at my manager, who is standing there, looking stern, hands on her hips.

Customer: “Never mind. I’ll just go.”

It’s great to have a boss who takes no s*** from anyone.

This story is part of the Highest-Voted-Stories Of-2023 roundup!

Read the next story!

Read the roundup!

Stephen here — the one with the puns — with another tale from my childhood.

This wasn’t the first time I surprised or embarrassed my mum — for that, you’d have to go to the doctor’s surgery, where I used a bit of unintentional wordplay — but this is probably the first time it was because of something I did deliberately.

In the UK, it is normal for health visitors to make home visits to check on the development progress of pre-school children. I was three, and a health visitor was in our home with my mum and me for my checkup.

Among the various tests I was given was a pillar box with a number of different shaped holes in the top.

Health Visitor: “Stephen, here are some blocks. Can you please put them in the pillar box?”

My mum wasn’t worried about this test, as I had a toy like it and would often pass the time putting the shapes in the correct holes. But…

The first shape I picked up was a circle. Rather than put it in the round hole, I moved it to just above the hole shaped like a triangle. I held it there for a moment or two, whilst my mum was apparently baffled and more than a little worried as to what I was doing, as I did know my shapes.

After a pause, I looked up at the health visitor.

Me: “Naaaaaaah!”

I then put the shape straight in the correct hole. I proceeded to do this with every single shape: pick it up, hold it above the wrong hole, say, “Naaaaaah,” and then put it in the right hole.

Afterward:

Mum: “He’s never done anything like that before.”

Health Visitor: “I’ve never seen anyone do anything like that before!”

She marked me as successfully completing that task, albeit unconventionally.

Given how I ultimately turned out, I guess you could say this little scene was the shape of things to come…