Getting A ‘D’ Grade

| England, UK | Working | May 15, 2017

(I go to the reception to register my membership. I’m quite conscious that English is not my first language, so I always say something like Apple for A, Boy for B, etc. so people can get my spelling right. The staff asks for my postcode, so after saying the whole postcode, I spell it again with words starting with each letter in my postcode. He gets them all correct till the last one.)

Me: “Dog.”

(He couldn’t get the letter.)

Me: “D for Dog.”

(He typed another wrong letter.)

Me: “Dog, Dan, …? ABCD?”

(He got a different wrong letter at every single attempt. So I just wrote down the whole postcode on paper and gave it to him instead. I still wonder what I did wrong for the D letter.)

When You Don’t Want Someone At The Gym To Spot You

| OR, USA | Friendly | May 13, 2017

(I’m at a weight lifting class five minutes before start. I set up a bench, and a bar, and am standing by it when I get a poke on the shoulder.)

Lady: *sternly* “This is my spot.”

(I pause, taking in how childish this is, but decide it’s not worth a fight.)

Me: “Okay.” *I lean down, grab my bench, and start to pull it to another spot*

Lady: “No, that’s my bench! I set this up!”

Me: *startled* “I just set this up a minute ago.”

Lady: “Are you serious?!”

Me: “Yes. You can have that spot but I’m taking the bench and weights I just set up.”

(I drag them to the only available spot — right next to her. A lady who saw all this rushes to set this lady’s spot up for her while she fumes. Class begins and the lady is glaring at me in the mirror during class. It is intimidating and I leave class 10 minutes early because I have a bad feeling she’s not finished with me and I don’t want to talk to her. I shower and dress and when I come out of the locker room the lady is at the front desk, sees me, and points.)

Lady: “That’s her!”

(I walk up to front desk and start to explain what happened but the lady is screaming over me.)

Lady: “Liar! She’s lying! She’s a thief!”

Desk-Person: *trying to shush her but she won’t stop* “Okay, I’m going to take you each aside separately so I can hear both sides. Let’s start with you.” *points to me*

(We walk to back room, and once inside I start explaining but don’t even get a full sentence out before the lady bursts in!)

Lady: “She’s a liar! Please! She stole my spot! How can a person do something like that?! She’s a thief!”

(I have to explain the whole story while this woman shrieks, “no!” over me, which is very frustrating.)

Desk-Person: *turns to lady* “Okay. So this could have been anyone. It doesn’t matter what you think she did. You can’t scream at other members like this.”

Lady: “So you think it’s okay?! Would you steal someone’s spot? I came in half an hour early, set up my spot, ran on the treadmill, and when I got back, she stole my spot! How could she do that?!”

Desk-Person: “You don’t own anything here. Next time—”

Lady: “But I’m a member!”

Desk-Person: “So is she. Next time don’t set up your spot and leave it unattended. You have no way of knowing what happened. Someone could have put your stuff away before class—”

Lady: “No!”

Desk-Person: *very frustrated now and raises her voice* “You are in the wrong here! Actually, I can suspend your membership for this!”

(The lady is suddenly in tears.)

Me: “Uh, I have to go to work.”

(The front-desk-person apologized to me and I left. A few weeks later I saw that lady in the same class. Never spoke to me again.)

Best Not Take That Tone

| Manchester, England, UK | Friendly | February 20, 2017

(I am at the gym, walking down the long corridor to the changing rooms, with a random lady about the same age as me walking a few feet behind me, when my mobile phone in my handbag receives an email. A Minion shouts ‘oh, hello’ and giggles.)

Random Lady: *a few seconds later* “Did your handbag just talk to you?”

Me: “Oh, yes, it does that all the time!”


Random Lady: *very seriously* “How do you get it to do that?!”

Me: “Erm, it’s my mobile ringtone?”

Random Lady: *sounding totally enlightened* “Ohhh!”

Me: *mental face-palm*

That Sure Beats Tennis Elbow

| | Learning | February 15, 2017

(I’m in seventh grade. My best friend is actually very fit and a good athlete, but very lazy, and she’s always trying to come up with ways for us to get out of gym class so we can hang out on the bleachers. Our teacher essentially knows all her tricks and is rarely fooled. One day, we are told that we will be having a substitute gym teacher, and she comes up with a plan.)

Friend: “Okay, so he doesn’t know me, so we need to do a stuffy voice and he’ll let us off.”

Me: “A what?”

Friend: “A stuffy voice! You know. Follow me.” *walks up to new sub and begins speaking as if her nose is clogged* “Are you by stubstidute?”

Substitute: *not even looking up from his clipboard* “Nice try. It’s just tennis practice, ladies.”

(Annoyed, my friend goes to take her place with the rest of the class and I follow. The substitute comes out with a tennis racket and a ball.)

Substitute: “I know a lot of you find gym class really boring or intimidating, but it doesn’t have to be! There’s no reason to try to get out of it. There is literally nothing scary about any of it. Especially tennis.”

(To illustrate his point, he tosses the ball, then bounces up on his feet to hit it towards the wall… right before screaming like he’s been shot and crumpling to the ground. We run for another teacher, who calls an ambulance, and later during homeroom we are told his Achilles’s tendon had snapped.)

Friend: *turning towards me, white-faced* “You know, if he really WAS trying to show us how harmless and not-scary gym class is, he failed big time.”

(Don’t worry, he was okay, but he wore a boot and spent the rest of the year behind a desk teaching another homeroom class!)

Has Bad A Fattitude

| FL, USA | Working | January 30, 2017

(This story is related to me by my friend, who is a personal trainer employed at a gym. It has the usual classes, which she teaches along with another trainer, and equipment. My friend is a bit of a real-life Disney princess… she seems to nice and cheerful to be real, but it’s not an act, and when she says things like how she loves to help people of all types and sizes meet whatever goals they have, she genuinely means it. She’s VERY popular with everyone at the gym as a result, and her classes tend to be full of people of every size due to her positive attitude and willingness to help and be patient. At the time of this story, it’s just after New Years, and she’s walking around the gym conducting an informal interview with a potential new trainer to replace her when she moves in a month. Since it’s the start of a new year, the place is packed with people trying to make good on their new resolutions.)

Applicant: “I bet it doesn’t normally look like this.”

Friend: “Huh?”

Applicant: “All these people jamming it up. It’s just because of New Year resolutions.”

Friend: “Oh, yeah, January is always jam-packed! I love it.”

Applicant: *stops and frowns at a pair of heavier women on the treadmills* “It’s all fake bull-s***. They’re going to drop it and be back at the buffet, and in the meantime they’re wasting my time and taking up the gym’s resources.”

Friend: “Uh… well… even if some of them don’t follow through, I think it’s important that we give them every opportunity we can, and all the tools to encourage them to stick with it. A friendly, welcoming atmosphere works wonders.”

Applicant: *makes an over-the-top yucky face* “I’m not here to kiss anyone’s ample a**, and if they don’t like it, they can call up the pizza delivery guy and cry about it.”

(Needless to say, my friend did not end up recommending the applicant get the job, and my friend was upset and angry about it for the rest of the week. With an attitude like that, I can’t IMAGINE why the applicant would see so many people stop coming to gyms around her.)

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