Not The Kind Of “Fall Into My Arms” Story We’re Used To

, , , , , | Healthy | June 26, 2018

(I’m standing behind a woman in line at the checkout who has put her groceries on the belt and has picked up her tiny baby out of the seat, as the baby started fussing. The customer in front of her is a sweet, older man who is having trouble getting his card to work. The woman is swaying side to side, something I don’t think much of because I did the same to calm down my kids when they were small. The older man turns to apologise for the wait, and gets a funny look on his face.)

Older Guy: “Are you okay, ma’am?”

(The woman spins around to face me and I see her face is slightly purple and her eyes are completely unfocused and darting around. Before I can react to try to catch her, she shoves the baby in my direction. I drop my items and catch the baby just in time, and the old man tries to catch the woman as she drops and starts twitching. They both end up on the floor, though he does break her fall. The cashier calls for help and there’s a flurry of activity, with managers calling for an ambulance and helping the woman. The old man scrambles back to his feet, and he and I step aside — me still holding the baby — while the ambulance officers show up and diagnose her with a seizure and start loading her into an ambulance. They take the baby with them — she has regained consciousness at this point and screams for her baby, thinking she had dropped them when she fell. In all the activity, the older man stays at the end of the checkout, waiting to finish paying for his groceries and leave. I look down and see he is holding his arm strangely.)

Me: “Sir, are you okay?”

Older Guy: “Ah, landed on my arm a bit funny.”

(Upon closer inspection, his arm is clearly broken quite badly near his wrist.)

Cashier: “Oh, no! Why didn’t you tell the ambulance guys? They would have taken you, too!”

Older Guy: “Oh, no, they were busy with the young lass. I’ve had my time; youngins are the future! I’ll get it looked at later.”

(We did eventually convince him to let me drive him to the hospital, with a promise of dropping his groceries off at home to his wife. She was beside herself and let me drive her back to her husband’s car so they wouldn’t have to worry about it later. Given the amount of stories on here about old people being cranky and mean, I was touched to find one who was willing to sit quietly through immense pain just so someone else would receive medical attention.)

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Millennials Are Ruining Petroleum!

, , , , | Right | June 21, 2018

(I pump gas at a full-service gas station at a time when gas costs between a buck and a buck-fifty. A crusty geezer comes in and gripes about prices.)

Customer: “When I was your age, gas cost 17 cents a gallon!”

Me: “Yes, sir.”

Customer: *continues b****ing about gas price* “…17 cents a gallon!”

Me: “Sir, when you were my age, how long did it take to earn 17 cents?”

Customer: *grumbles under breath and walks away*

Real Pens Never Go Out Of Stylus

, , , , , | Right | June 20, 2018

(An elderly woman is paying for her purchase with a credit card. I help her swipe her card through the reader and prompt her to sign on the screen with the stylus. She is having some difficulty.)

Customer: *shaking the stylus* “This pen must be out of ink; it won’t write.”

Me: “It doesn’t use ink, ma’am. You need to keep your signature within the box.” *pointing at the box on the screen*

(She managed to make some illegible squiggles in the box. I handed her her receipt and wished her a pleasant afternoon. I giggled inside because I’m pretty sure she thought her shaking the stylus for ink is what made her signature appear.)

They Went Back To The Future

, , , , | Friendly | June 16, 2018

We’ve lived in our neighborhood for a few years now. It’s fairly large, so we’ve mostly only met the people living on our street, but it’s common to see lots of people walking or biking through the neighborhood on nice days.

Over the years, I’ve noticed an older couple who like to walk their little dog in the early evening. We always wave at each other, but I don’t know them very well. Gradually, it seems like they are walking slower and slower. Then, there are a few days when I only see the wife walking the dog. I — rightly, as it turns out — assume the husband is starting to have trouble keeping up with her.

A few weeks later, I notice the woman walking their dog. Next to her is her husband, happily riding a hoverboard! I don’t know what makes me happier; that they found a way to keep walking together, or that a seventy-something-year-old man taught himself to successfully hoverboard around the neighborhood!

Call Me Grand-Daddy

, , , , , | | Right | June 7, 2018

(There’s a new movie out called “Dirty Grandpa.”)

Every Single Old Customer That Walks In: “A ticket for Dirty Grandpa. Not that I am one!”

(Then they wink at me and walk away, leaving me desperate for a shower.)

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