Past The Statue Of Limitations

, , , , , | Learning | March 4, 2019

In Germany, it’s custom that after their finals, the graduates will play a prank on the school and teachers. In my father’s year, however, they get a new principal with no sense of humour whatsoever and they’re forbidden to do so. The graduates decide that only makes it even more fun.

The father of one of the graduates owns the local junkyard. The father of another one owns a construction company. My father’s mother has a beverage store.

They meet up with some other graduates at the junkyard on a Friday night. My father brings some crates of beer, and the construction company owner’s son brings welding equipment, angle grinders and such, and a small excavator. Someone else brings a tractor with a large trailer; it’s a fairly rural area. They then spend the night building a huge statue from junk, randomly cutting and welding things together. Before sunrise, they bring it to the school with the tractor. They dig a huge hole in the school’s front yard and cement the statue two meters deep in the ground.

When the principal discovers the statue on Monday morning, he’s furious. He gets a shovel and tries to dig it out himself. When that fails, he calls a construction company. Spoiler: The statue is still there today.

He then threatens to withhold all the graduation certificates if the culprits are not turned in, but it turns out that’s not legal. In the end, the prom is cancelled as a punishment.

But the story does not end there. Some younger students still have classes. An arts teacher decides to make the prank the subject of her next exam and asks her students to write an interpretation of the statue’s composition and the “artist’s” intentions. My father’s little sister is in her class and writes, “It was late. There was beer. They just welded together whatever they found. There was no planning beforehand and the message it’s intended to convey is ‘suck our d***s, [Principal].'” While that was 100% accurate, it was not what the teacher wanted to read, and my aunt got an F.

Every year since then, the graduates at this school have built a statue and displayed it at the schoolyard. When my cousin graduated from there a few years ago, I visited the school for the first time and she showed me their impressive “statue yard” behind the actual schoolyard. They make sure now to actually plan the statue and design it to convey a more elaborate message, though, because that arts exam has become a tradition, too.

Let Me Check The Non-Existent Back For The Non-Existent Flower

, , , , , | Right | March 1, 2019

(I work in a small flower stall on a pretty busy street. We just got our flowers and stuff in the morning, and we do not have any storage rooms, which is pretty obvious. During my shift a customer comes up.)

Customer: “Do you have [flower] in red?”

Me: *knowing that this flower does not exist in that colour* “No, sir, I’m sorry, but this flower does not exist in red; therefore, we do not store it.”

Customer: “Are you sure?”

Me: “I am pretty sure, because it does not exist.”

Customer: “You just don’t want to look it up in your storage room.” *leaves angrily*

(Where the f*** are we supposed to have a storage room if we just have a small stall in the street? Some people.)

Can’t See Why Some People Become Parents

, , , , , | Healthy | February 24, 2019

(Ophthalmologist’s offices in Germany have a rotating system of which office has to stay open for emergencies on the weekends. Today, it’s our office’s turn and I’m manning the front desk. A couple comes in with their five-year-old daughter. She has a very red eye and says it hurts a lot. I take their info and ask how long she’s had those symptoms.)

Mother: “I think since this afternoon — a couple of hours maybe.”

Me: “Okay. Did something happen? Did she get something in her eye?”

Mother: “I don’t think so; I was watching her all the time.”

(The mother looks a little annoyed at my questioning and the father just nods, apathetic. I give some numbing eye drops to the girl to ease the pain and send her right to the doctor. My coworker follows in, only to come back out some minutes later looking rather angry.)

Coworker: “Guess what? This girl has a metal splinter burnt into her cornea.”

Me: “She has what?”

Coworker: “Yes, her father let her watch him using the angle grinder without safety goggles.”

Me: “And he didn’t think that might be kind of… dangerous?”

Coworker: “Apparently not. I’m getting the instruments to get the splinter out.”

(My coworker goes back in to the doctor and they start trying to get the metal out. After a while, the couple and the girl storm past me out of the door, the mother looking angry, the girl rather relieved with a patch on her eye, and the father pouting. My coworker and the doctor come out right behind, looking exhausted.)

Coworker: “WOOOOOW!”

Me: “What happened?”

Doctor: “The girl was wriggling all. The. Time. [Coworker] couldn’t hold her by herself, so I asked the mother to hold the girl, too. When I was just about to pick the splinter out, the mother let her wiggling daughter go and said, ‘Oh, no, I almost got a cramp in my hand,’ and I was thinking, ‘Oh, no, I almost impaled your daughter’s eye, but good for you that you didn’t get a cramp!’”

Me: “What caring parents this girl has…”

About To Have A Kindergarten Strop

, , , | Working | February 20, 2019

(My twins have been in kindergarten for three months, and we are very happy with the place. The carers are great and our twins’ “trust-person” is such a joyful lady; we like her and so do the kids. There is just one older, slightly grumpy carer, who always takes some little thing to berate us about, mostly suggesting we keep the kids at home whenever something is slightly out of order. My husband works full-time, and I do three days a week. The other two days, the kids usually still go, but mostly because they have more fun there than with me at home, doing laundry and such. One day, the daycare is scheduled to close an hour earlier. As I am working, my parents-in-law are picking up the kids as usual and they have been informed about the earlier pick-up multiple times. Four minutes past the time the kids should have been picked up, I get a call at work.)

Old Lady Carer: “Mrs. [My Name], you know that the kids need to be picked up an hour earlier today.”

(Of course, I fear the grandparents forgot, excuse myself a million times, and end the call to start the emergency phone marathon.)

Old Lady Carer: “You do that. [Twins] are sitting here and are waiting.”

(I feel so bad about this. My head is full of pictures of them sitting in the empty kindergarten hallway, with their little backpacks on their knees, lonely and forgotten. Possibly crying. I call the grandparents’ mobile but no one answers. Then, I call their landline — no answer. I call my husband and tell him his parents are not there and he tries to reach them again. Meanwhile, I call my mum, who lives near the kindergarten, but only has a bike and no car. She agrees that she could be there in about thirty minutes. I tell her to get ready and I will call my husband again to see if he has reached his parents. He has not and is reasonably worried. His parents are seventy and you never know. As we both work in different places than our hometown, my mum would be the fastest to reach the kids. I call her and she tells me she will get going right away! I try to call back the kindergarten. It is now twenty past. Nobody answers. I try twice more before reading texts from my husband telling me that his parents’ mobile phone is still not being answered. I try the daycare again, and finally, someone picks up.)

Different Care Person: “[Kindergarten], [Care Person] speaking.”

Me: “I tried to reach the grandparents, but they aren’t answering the phone. I could be there in an hour, but as we don’t want the twins to wait any longer than necessary, my mother is on her way on her bike and will be there in about twenty minutes, I guess. We are quite worried that the grandparents are not answering any calls and we hope it’s nothing serious…“

Different Care Person: “Wait, wait, wait. What’s up? What are you talking about? I don’t know what you mean.”

Me: “Aren’t you already closed? And [Twins] have not been picked up?”

Different Care Person: “[Twins]? No, they have been picked up already. The grandparents arrived extra early, and we just forgot the time chatting until now, I guess. And the twins have been playing so happily all this time.”

Me: “But [Older Care Lady] called me to tell me they were sitting there alone and waiting.“

Different Care Person: “She probably did not see us chatting outside; that’s the only explanation I can think of. Everything is absolutely fine; don’t worry!”

Me: “Well, I’m glad about that. But that was really unnecessary.“

(She apologised again, but I told her it was fine as long as the kids were fine. I then called my mum, who was pedaling as fast as a sixty-year-old lady can, to make her turn around. She was relieved, too, but peeved, as expected. My husband texted me, meanwhile, that he’d reached his parents’ mobile in the end; they just had left it in the car while chatting in the daycare’s playground while the kids were still running around happily. All is well that ends well, but maaan, that was an annoying hour.)

Wish You Had Some Paint Customer Remover

, , | Right | February 13, 2019

(I need some wood cut for a project and go to the local hardware store. The employee is exceptionally nice to me and manages to alter some of the measurements to fit their wood planks better. While discussing the project, another female customer arrives, well-dressed and obviously annoyed by the fact he is taking some time to help me.)

Customer: “Excuse me! Is there someone willing to help me?!”

(She exclaims in a super annoyed voice.)

Employee: “Certainly. What can I do for you?”

Customer: “Will you send someone over? I’m waiting and I have other stuff to do!”

Employee: “Maybe I can help you right now.”

Customer: “Ugh, fine. I have a question. But you are helping her.” *looking at me like I’m some kind of alien*

Employee: “Just ask.”

Customer: “Fiiinnnee. I have these wood slices and I need them sanded. I want to put them on my table.”

Employee: “We can’t do that here, I’m sorry.”

(The employee starts walking away with me when the customer exclaims again.)

Customer: “I HAVE ANOTHER QUESTION!”

(She’s now visibly annoyed that he couldn’t read her thoughts.)

Employee: *starts chuckling* “Go on.”

Customer: *her tune getting ruder and ruder, and more provoking* “I need something to varnish them! What should I take?”

Employee: “Just go to the paint department; they will be happy to help you there.”

Customer: *rams her cart around, nearly knocking over a basket standing in her way* “Ugh. FINE!”

(The employee and I go on with my planks. I excuse myself multiple times that he has to deal with my idea and my strange measurements and he assures me that he has seen a LOT worse.)

Me: “At least I’m not b****ing about everything”

(This gave him a huge grin on the face, while he couldn’t really say something, offending other customers.)

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