They Had It Coming

, , , , , | Learning | August 30, 2017

(It is our sixth year, after recess. The teacher comes in, opens the board, and reveals a drawing of a large, crude penis, ejaculating over what appears to be a girl’s face. Two male students can’t conceal their giggling, and the rest of the class joins in. The teacher looks at it and shakes her head.)

Teacher: “Seriously? [Student #1], [Student #2], you should be ashamed.”

Student #1 & #2: “We didn’t do it!”

Teacher: “Oh, please. This wasn’t there before recess and I saw you enter first, giggling.”

Student #1: “It was just a joke…”

Teacher: “Oh, it is a joke, all right! You are both boys, you’ve had sex-ed, and you give me this?”

(She takes a crayon and starts altering the drawing.)

Teacher: “First of all, the underside of the glans does not look like this… also, the scrotum is not two separate ovals… there is no way the genital hair would be distributed like this… and besides, you would find a size such as this in bad porn movies at best.”

(The whole class is watching, mouths agape.)

Teacher: “Also, look at this face! Didn’t you learn about the proportions of the human face in art class?”

(She then proceeds to correct the face, leaving a rather realistic image.)

Teacher: “If you’re going to do such immature jokes, at least do them properly! You obviously not only didn’t pay attention in class, you apparently never even bothered to look at your own genitals. I’m very disappointed in you.”

(The whole class was roaring by this point, and the two students looked like they were dying from humiliation.)

Have I Got A (Pony)Tale To Tell You!

, , , | Working | August 30, 2017

(I have very thick, straight hair that grows fast. Yes, I’m happy about it. Still, when it gets too long, it’s very heavy, and I don’t have the patience to do more with it than tie it in a ponytail, so I guess it’s somewhat wasted on me. I decide to get a haircut – from waist-length hair to shoulder-length – and go to the hairdresser’s. After I explain what I want, the hairdresser still seems reluctant.)

Hairdresser: “Are you sure? I mean, really sure?”

Me: “Yup. 100 %. I know it’s quite a change, but I’ve done this before. It’s fine.”

Hairdresser: “But it would take ages to grow back. I could just trim the ends a bit.”

Me: “Trust me. It takes one year to grow back. It’s heavy, it’s in the way, please cut it off.”

Hairdresser: “But are you really, really sure about this?”

Me: *getting a bit impatient* “Would you like a written consent form? Of course I’m sure!”

Hairdresser: “It’s just… the last woman who insisted she was completely sure ended up crying when my colleague actually cut her hair, and she yelled at us all. My colleague was traumatized and frankly, I’m scared.”

Me: “Oh, wow. Right. That sounds crazy. Tell you what. I’ll give it to you in writing and then you can just have fun with my hair.”

(It’s in good fun and I scribble out a quick statement of consent. I think that afterwards we can finally get to work. Instead:)

Hairdresser: *holding up pair of scissors* “All right! May I have everyone’s attention?”

(The salon isn’t full at the time, just a few customers, but every other hairdresser comes to look.)

Hairdresser: “This is so great. I can’t believe I’m allowed to do this.”

(As she moves to cut off my ponytail one of her colleagues gasps, others clap, and everyone cheers. When my hairdresser holds up the ponytail like some sort of trophy, people just keep on staring at me.)

Me: “…okay? Can you turn this mess into an actual hairstyle now?”

Hairdresser: “We’re just sort of still waiting for you to freak out.”

(For the record, I didn’t, and my new hairstyle looked really nice. I just still don’t know whether to find that scene funny or slightly disturbing!)


That Isn’t How This Home-Works

, , , | Learning | August 30, 2017

(This happens in first grade, on the day after we get our very first homework assignment.)

Student: “Mrs. [Teacher], I gave the homework assignment to my mommy, but she didn’t want to do it.”

Chained Down By The Reaper

, , , | Working | August 29, 2017

(i have to go to the ER because I have cut my finger while sharpening a scythe. The doctor interviews me about how it happened, for the letter which I’ll have to give to my GP for following check-ups. However, we soon encounter some difficulties communicating, because German isn’t the doctor’s mother tongue.)

Doctor: “Wow, that cut was rather deep. How did it happen?”

Me: “I’ve cut myself sharpening a scythe.”

Doctor: “Sorry, with what?”

Me: “A scythe.”

Doctor: *look of confusion*

Me: “A scythe. You know… that thing the grim reaper carries around?”

Doctor: *disbelieving look* “Oh, okay. I think I know what you mean.”

(I got my stitches and drove home. When I arrived, I took a look at the letter the doctor wrote and broke out laughing. “The patient cut himself with a chainsaw.” I guess Eastern European reapers are sort of hardcore.)

If Only She Could Hear Herself

, , | Right | August 29, 2017

(My grandmother and I are the customers in this story. My grandmother is in her mid-eighties and hard of hearing, even though she doesn’t like to admit it and feels embarrassed by needing a hearing aid. Because she doesn’t have a car, I usually pick her up and we do our shopping together. We’re in a clothing store to buy something for my cousin’s new baby. This happens as we’re stepping up to pay.)

Cashier: *on the phone with another customer in the back room, calling out to us* “I’ll be with you in a second.”

Me: “No problem.”

My Grandmother: *loudly and after barely thirty seconds of waiting* “What kind of business is this? Isn’t anyone working in this place? That is completely unacceptable! In my day, this never would have happened. How rude! They’re probably all in the back taking a two-hour break.”

(At this point all the other customers are looking and I hear the cashier finish her call.)

Me: *loudly* “Grandma, you’re the one who’s being rude! You just made a scene, and needlessly insulted the work ethic of the cashier, because you’re too vain to wear the hearing aids you so clearly need. If you didn’t need them like you insist, you would have heard the conversation she and I had when we stepped up to the register, and you would have noticed that she was on the phone with another customer.”

My Grandmother: *gives me a betrayed look, puts down the baby clothes she was going to buy and leaves the store*

(I apologized to the cashier and bought the things my grandmother put down. She still refuses to wear her hearing aids, so when we’re out in public together, I refuse to let her be rude to anyone as a result of her own hearing problems and call her out on it every time – really loudly.)

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