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I Think You’re Busted, Dude

, , , , | Working | May 11, 2022

This story takes place around 2004, in a pretty big town not far from the regional capital city. At that time, if you were a very good customer, you had quite a personal relationship with the bank director, so I called him one day to let him know I would drop by the next day in the early morning to discuss the state of my business.

The next morning, I pushed open the door to take a seat in the waiting area right in front of the director’s office. From there, I could cant my head and see through the glass door that the director wasn’t in yet, so I just relaxed and started playing with my phone.

I am definitely not the most patient person in the world, so when the door finally opened, I was relieved, but it was not the director, nor was it any bank clerk. It was someone from the cleaning crew.

Cleaner: “Please get out immediately! The bank is closed!”

Me: “It’s not closed. I just pushed the door open.”

The guy looked quite uncomfortable for a moment, and then he confessed that he had forgotten to lock the door after mopping the floors! And he asked me to get out and not say a word about it.

I complied, and when the director arrived a bit later and made a good show of pulling out the keys to open the door, I told him I was glad he was there because I had forgotten my phone on the chair five minutes earlier.

The look on his face was priceless.

The Geek’s Dilemma

, , , , , | Working | May 11, 2022

I sit next to a programmer who is complaining that his computer isn’t behaving right.

Coworker: “Screw it. Time to fall back to the age-old geek fix to all tech problems: turn it off and back on again.”

Me: “Ah, yes, there is no problem that solution can’t solve!”

Coworker: “Yep, I use it everywhere. I even tried it when dating once. I was really good at turning the girls off, but I never managed to turn them back on again afterward.”

Just Can’t Put Your Finger On It

, , , , , , | Learning | May 11, 2022

When I was in sixth grade, I played the flute in band. We didn’t have lockers at the school, but the band room did have cubbies, so we’d usually leave our instruments in our cubbies and get them after school so it was one less thing to cart around.

One day, a friend and I stayed after for a club and we stopped in the band room on the way out to get our instruments. We ended up running into another friend and started a conversation. Then, he got a message that his mom was waiting outside.

Friend: “Hey, [My Name], my mom’s outside. We gotta go.”

Me: “Okay, just let me get my flute.”

I went back to my cubby and my flute was missing.

Me: “Hey, [Friend], have you seen my flute?”

Friend: “…[My Name]?”

Me: “No, seriously, we’ve got to find my flute.” *Starting to panic* “Oh, my God, if it got stolen… It’s not even mine yet!”

Friend: “[My Name].”

Me: “Crap. Where’s my flute? Where’s [Teacher]?”

Friend: “[My Name].”

Me: “No, I’m serious! My parents are still paying this off! It’s not my flute yet! If it got stolen, I’m—”

Friend: *Grabbing my arm* “[My Name]!”

Me: “What?”

Friend: *Lifts my hand* “Is this what you were looking for?”

Yes, I had in fact been holding my flute the entire time. Both my friends were laughing at me; I kind of started to laugh at it, too.

Friend: “I was surprised it took you so long. You looked right at it like five times.”

Me: “Let’s just go. Never tell anyone about this.”

Of course, being the twelve- and thirteen-year-olds that we were, it kind of became a running joke for him to remind me to make sure I had my flute.

Cooking Up Confusion

, , , , , | Healthy | May 11, 2022

I’m switching my primary care physician due to insurance issues, so I decided for my most recent appointment to have a more thorough physical checkup. My usual doctor was unavailable at the time, but one of his assistants could look me over in his stead. I decided a fresh point of view was not a bad idea, so I went ahead and scheduled the checkup.

It all started off relatively uneventfully, with the doctor’s assistant confirming my medical history, medications, symptoms of depression, etc.

Assistant: “And what about your diet? What’s that like?”

Me: “Since I moved out and am now living with a few roommates, we’re all taking turns doing home cooking.”

Thanks to a wonderful combination of social anxiety and ADHD, I have difficulty making eye contact with someone while talking unless I’m very familiar with them or making a significant effort. I was fairly relaxed, so I was just gazing over at the opposite wall while I mentioned that my roommates and I do cooking for ourselves every night. When I looked back over at the assistant, her expression was serious and concerned. I recognized I had to have said something to have caused that change, given she was quite cheerful and chatty only a minute before.

Assistant: “You do this every night?”

Me: “Between my roommates and I, we take turns. And if I get up early enough, I do it for myself in the morning.”

Her expression of concern just grew more intense.

Assistant: “Are you aware of the health risks of what you’re doing?”

I spent a few moments trying to figure out what she could mean.

Me: “I don’t know if there are any risks associated with cooking meals, other than maybe excessive use of salt or oils.”

At that, she burst out laughing! I was even more confused.

Me: “What did you think I said?”

Turns out, she thought I’d said I was doing cocaine every night and sometimes in the morning. It wasn’t until I’d said the word “meals” that she’d figured out I was talking about something completely different! Both the assistant and I couldn’t stop laughing for several minutes straight after that, and the rest of the checkup was perfectly fine.

When You Sound Scottish In The Red October

, , , , , , | Right | May 10, 2022

It’s started to get chilly. A coworker of mine is helping an elderly customer load purchases into his car. My coworker, who’s a young woman, steps outside in her store uniform without a coat or sweater, to the customer’s horror.

Customer: “Oh, please, no, I’m perfectly all right. You must be freezing!”

Coworker: “It’sh fine! I really don’t mind the weather, and I’d hate to shee you shpill any of your items. I’ll only be out for a few sheconds.”

Customer: “Thank you! But, ah… you must be from somewhere very cold if you don’t mind this weather! Russia? Somewhere I’d hate to even visit!”

Coworker: *Laughing* “No, shir, I’m from jusht acrosh the Hudshon River!”

Customer: “But then where’s your accent from?”

Coworker: “My akshent…? Oh! It’sh from dental shurgery.”

Customer: “Ahh… actually, the Russian winter doesn’t seem so bad by contrast.”