(My nine-year-old son and I have an ongoing, good-natured argument about who has the better dog. We are literally singing their praises to the tune of “O Christmas Tree” for the full conversation.)
Me: “O Sammon-Bear, O Sammon-bear, you are the best dog anywhere!”
Son: “Re-bel is cute, Re-bel is cute!”
Me: “You’ll have trouble rhyming that.”
Son: *pauses* “Shoot!”
(A job seeker comes in looking nice, wearing a crisp suit and tie, and seeming to have everything together. In my opinion, this is a perfect choice for the job he is applying for in minor management. Halfway through his application:)
Applicant: “I have a question.”
Me: “Sure, what’s up?”
Applicant: “It says here, ‘Have you ever been convicted of a crime?’”
(Now, I’ve heard this before, and I expect the usual explanations of speeding tickets, or some other minor crime that we really don’t care about.)
Me: “Yeah?”
Applicant: “What about if you’ve been charged with one?”
Me: “Uh… depends, I suppose. What charge, might I ask?”
Applicant: “Trafficking, and possession with intent.”
Me: “I… I’d just list that.”
(Needless to say, we didn’t hire him. Apparently, he was out on bond and had just left court when he decided to apply.)
(It is a slow day on my shift. There is just one customer, sitting at a table with his food and laptop, when a slightly annoyed-looking man comes in with his two teenage daughters.)
Me: “Hello, welcome to [Donut Shop]. What can I get for you?”
Customer: “I’ll have a medium hot coffee with cream and sugar.”
Daughter #1: *rather timidly* “I’ll have a maple-frosted donut.”
Daughter #2: “Hmm…”
(She takes some time, about half a minute, looking at the donuts behind me.)
Customer: *turns to [Daughter #2]* “Stop taking so long! You’re wasting the cashier’s time. Make up your mind.” *turning to me* “Sorry it’s taking so long. My daughters can be so problematic.”
(I just stand there and smile, not really knowing what to say.)
Customer: *speaking loudly* “They’ve been nothing but trouble to me and my wife. Always doing bad things behind our backs. You know they almost got us in trouble with the police once?”
(Both girls are now looking nervous and casting their eyes down on the floor. The first one looks scared and second one looks frustrated. I find his statement hard to believe, because they seem like the “good-girl” types, but I say nothing because it’s obvious that he’s annoyed. The customer with the laptop is raising his eyes up to look at them.)
Customer: “Just a bunch of good-for-nothings. So, spit it out, what do you want?” *cuts her off before she can speak* “You know what? She’ll just have a coffee roll, like last time.”
(I ring them up for their purchases. The man pays with his card, I get the donut and coffee roll in a bag and give it to them, but I tell them they’ll have to wait a bit for the hot coffee. The man and second daughter leave to wait in the car, leaving the first daughter to pick up the coffee after it’s finished.)
Me: “Okay, here you go.” *hands her the coffee*
Daughter #1: *takes it, speaks solemnly* “Thanks. Oh, and by the way… he’s my stepfather.”
Me: *in total shock* “Oh…”
(The customer on his laptop perks his head up real fast at this, and we both stare after her as she leaves the shop, wiping roughly at one eye. My coworker comes up from the kitchen, shaking her head.)
Laptop Customer: “I’m gonna bet the ‘police trouble’ they had was either one of the daughters trying to report his sorry a**. I’m only sorry it didn’t work.”
Coworker: “I’m just more appalled that this is the man their mother chose to marry!”
(Whether the man really was their stepfather or not, I have something to say to him: “You are a d*****-bag, and verbally abusing anyone is not cool.”)
(My roommates and I are hanging out. One goes to the kitchen and opens the fridge. There is a small crash.)
Roomie #1: “Who left an open soda on top of the fridge door?!”
Me: “I don’t know.”
Roomie #2: “It wasn’t me.”
Roomie #3: “It was probably [Roomie #4].”
Roomie #1: “It better not have been [Roomie #4]!”
Me: “I’m sure it’s not intentional. Somebody probably just got distracted.”
Roomie #1: “Yeah, well, they just got distracted ALL OVER MY PANTS!”
Roomies #2-#4: *burst out laughing*
Me: “Phrasing!”
Roomie #1: “Now I’m all sticky!”
Roomie #2: *literally falls off of the sofa*
(I’m at a gay sports bar. I notice one guy that I think is cute, so I go over to talk.)
Me: “Hey, how’s it going?”
Stranger: “Doing all right.”
Me: “Cool. Enjoying yourself?”
Stranger: “Yeah, but there are a lot of dudes here. Is there a good spot nearby to meet chicks?”
Me: *realization sets in* “You’re not from around here, are you?”
Stranger: “No. Why?”
