No More Hibernating Away From The Gym

, , , , | Related | October 7, 2017

(During dinner.)

Mom: *in scarf and long clothes* “Ugh, it’s gotten so terribly cold! This morning I had to wear my thick jacket!”

Dad: *pulls up t-shirt and motions towards his stomach* “Look at this! It’s gotten so cold!”

Sister: *blank* “That you’re accumulating winter fat?”

Dad: *glares* “So cold that I’m wearing an undershirt.”

Sister: *laughing her a** off*

(Dad started going to the gym soon after.)

Everything He Says Is True

, , , | Friendly | October 5, 2017

(I work at an upscale garden show and vendors’ market once a year, which is sponsored by an aristocratic family and takes place on the grounds of their manor. On one evening, the head of the house also holds a special VIP event, to which he invites politicians, CEOs, and other aristocrats. They receive a special invitation, which also counts as their ticket to the garden show before the event. Unfortunately, a lot of the VIPs forget their tickets and are the stereotypically arrogant, “Don’t you know who I am?! I don’t NEED a ticket!” kind of people. So far, we’ve had four small altercations with VIPs, and I fear another one coming when I see a quite posh-looking man approach my table from the side.)

Posh Man: “Hello! I have a bit of a problem. My wife and I forgot our invitations to the VIP event. We’re terribly sorry. Is there any way to let us in, or do we have to drive back home?”

Me: *somewhat taken back by his friendly politeness* “Oh, that should be no problem! All I need is your ID or anything else that shows your name, and I can ask the organisers to check the invite list.”

(The wife suddenly begins to giggle while the man is searching for his ID.)

Wife: “You’re not going to believe us, I think.”

Posh Man: “Oh, yes.” *smiling sheepishly* “You probably won’t. We get it a lot.”

(Confused, I take his ID – and see that his title is Baron von Munchausen. I can’t help but laugh. “The Baron von Munchhausen” is a fairly well-known old collection of stories about said Baron, who makes up grand tales and stories of impossible feats about himself, such as riding on a cannon ball, riding a horse that was cut in half, etc.)

Me: *joking* “Oh, lord! Are you sure you got an invite?”

Posh Man: *winks* “I assure you it is not a lie!”

Me: “To be honest, I’d be tempted to let you in even if it was, just for the story!”

(After a quick chat with the organisers, they confirmed that he and his wife were invited, so I let them in. He winked at his wife, saying, “It worked!” loud enough for me to laugh again. He later left a tiny box of chocolate from one of the vendors in the office for “the ticket girl with good humour.” One of the nicest VIP encounters I’ve had in the five years I worked that job.)

Unfiltered Story #97235

, | Unfiltered | October 4, 2017

(My friends and I are getting food at a [Fast Food franchise]. They’re still in line, so I wait at the side, next to the registers. The kitchen area is in plain view from there, and I notice someone wearing an ‘Assistant Manager’ tag walking around agitatedly while holding a phone.)

Assistant Manager: (into phone): “No, what the f**k is going on? This is bullsh*t!”

(He keeps walking around between counter and kitchen area, alternatingly yelling into his phone and stopping to berate the employees. They all just keep working calmly – it seems they are already used to his tantrums. I shoot them a sympathetic glance, wondering if there is anything I can do.
Suddenly the Assistant Manager stomps back into the kitchen and THROWS his phone, which crashes onto the ground. Several people flinch.)

Assistant Manager: (to one of the male employees): “P**s off, f**ing f*gg*t!”

(My jaw drops. Being a short gay man who has been physically attacked several times and thus reacts badly to open aggression, I just want to get the heck out of the situation, but I still have to wait for my friends who are oblivious to the last comment. Needless to say, my appetite is gone.
I tell my friends later and they are as shocked as I am. I’ve since sent an online complaint detailing the situation and asking for feedback, but so far I haven’t heard back…)

Putting Those Texts Into Context

, , , | Romantic | October 2, 2017

(My partner’s brother got married about two months ago.)

Partner: “His texts all have an undertone of happy to them! He’s clearly still in the newlywed phase!”

Me: *because I’m a terrible person* “Would you say they have an… afterglow?”

Partner: “Ew! No! My brother is a priest! He has a Master’s degree in the New Testament!”

Me: “That doesn’t make him a priest, you know. He needed that for the private school he works at.”

Partner: “Lalalala, not listening! My brother is a priest and no one can convince me otherwise!”

Mother Of Bridezilla

, , , , | Friendly | September 28, 2017

I live in a small town, opposite a church. The road is very narrow, and my driveway is just across from the church entrance. I’ve had churchgoers park across my driveway, in my driveway, and even on my parking space on our premises, because they are too lazy to walk the 200 metres from the church parking lot, but this one time really took the cake.

I wanted to go to work and found a horse-drawn carriage blocking the road. Apparently there was a wedding going on and the bride wanted to leave the church in style. I still had some time, so I went back inside. Fifteen minutes later, the carriage was still there and no sign of the bride, so I asked the driver if he could move back a bit so I could get my car out of the driveway. He was really nice about it and started to manoeuvre the horses backward, when suddenly the bride’s mother came running out of the church. She started screaming at me that I was ruining her daughter’s wedding. She kept yelling and cursing, telling me that I would go to Hell for being such a spiteful, inconsiderate b****.

I was running late by now, so I just got in my car and drove off, and she was still in the middle of the road screaming when I turned the corner.

I know weddings are stressful, but jeez, lady! Relax!

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