As If Pregnancy Wasn’t Stressful Enough!

, , , , , , , , | Friendly | May 20, 2020

After a job contract is up, we’re moving back home from Honolulu to Seattle. My husband is wrapping up the last bit of work in Hawaii while I fly home with our two-and-eight-ninths kids. That is, I’m a couple of days away from being thirty-six weeks pregnant, nearing the end of the time airlines and obstetricians like pregnant women flying. I’m very excited to get back home.

But it seems like everything is working against it. Part of the highway is closed to film an episode of Hawaii 5-0. The line to check in is way longer than anticipated. And there’s a line to check that we’re not exporting exotic flora. And there’s a huge line for security. At the end of this line, I accidentally leave a carry-on bag, not realizing until I’m halfway to the gate, so I have to go back. And of course, my husband was unable to get a gate escort pass, so he can’t help.

I end up running as fast as an eight-month-pregnant woman can, pushing my two-year-old in a stroller laden with carry-on bags, dragging my four-year-old, both kids crying, my glasses slipping down my nose from sweat; it’s hot in Hawaii, and our trek includes an outdoor walkway. 

Fortunately, the plane crew knows we’ve checked in and a flight attendant is holding the door for us; they close it as soon as we’re through.

Out of breath and flushed, we make it to our seats, where the flight attendant and the passenger in the last of the four-seat middle row kindly help us stow our carry-ons and fold up the stroller. I notice the passenger’s eyes get big as he sees my obvious pregnancy bump.

“Don’t worry,” I reassure him. “I still have a month to go, and my older two weren’t early. I have no labor symptoms, even after running through the airport, and I really, really want to get back to the mainland. If I start labor, I’m crossing my legs until it’s too late to turn back.” His relief is palpable!

We make it back with no new passengers arriving, and a flight attendant even helps me from our arrival gate to baggage claim where my parents meet us. I get her name and let her supervisor know.

My youngest is born three weeks later, well after my husband has rejoined us.

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Unfiltered Story #192212

, , | Unfiltered | April 17, 2020

(My mom and I are sitting down in an Indian restaurant we both enjoy. The service is good and the food is delicious. We order out food and the waiter, who is a little softspoken and Indian, makes some small talk.)

Waiter: (something I can’t hear, but my mom hears)
Mom: Oh, no. We’re not sisters. She’s my daughter.
Waiter: *looking between the both of us, completely in shock* She’s your daughter?
Mom: *giggling* Yes.
Waiter: (after a little hesitation) What is age difference?
Mom: *still giggling* 30 years. I’m 46; she’s 16.
Waiter: *still in shock* Wow. Not sisters!

(The waiter walks off, smiling yet still in disbelief. My mom and I giggle about it the rest of our meal, and the waiter still seems a little skeptical when he comes back to check on us.)

Unfiltered Story #192199

, , | Unfiltered | April 16, 2020

(It’s Black Friday, and I’m working in the women’s clothing section of a well-known department store. A woman comes to the register with a $149 coat, which is ringing up at $89.99.)

Customer: “That’s the wrong price! It’s supposed to be a Doorbuster for $28.99.”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, ma’am, this coat IS on sale, but it isn’t a Doorbuster. It’s possible it got misplaced by another customer, since it’s such a busy sale day.”

Customer: “There was a sign! It’s $28.99.”

(I offer to go check for my coworker, knowing there’s no way that coat was discounted that heavily. Sure enough, I find the $28.99 sign over a rack of sweaters, with the words ‘[Brand] Sweaters’ written in very big letters below the price. Another customer has indeed hung two random coats off the end of the rack. I remove the coats, politely point out the price and the item listed to the customer, and thank her for letting us know that something was misplaced. She marches back to the register with a sour face, and I get a manager to be safe. As we approach the register, the customer is demanding that she should still get an exception, before she sees my manager and quickly scuttles away.)

Manager: *nodding after her* “A few years ago, she used to shoplift from us. I guess she finally got a job.”

Unfiltered Story #190889

, , , | Unfiltered | March 27, 2020

(We are at the States Tennis Tournament for high school sports. We are watching a boys doubles match, and the opponents, who are supposed to be brothers, don’t exactly look it. A Guy Friend decides to bring it up, and is talking quite loudly.)
Guy Friend: “They don’t look like brothers.”
Other Friend: “They’re supposed to be.”
Guy Friend: “Coach said they have different mothers and same father.”
Other Friend: “Really?”
(After a few minutes of talking, a parent we don’t know, who has been standing behind us the whole time, speaks up.)
Parent: “No, they have the same mother.”
Guy Friend: “Then same mother, different fathers?”
Parent, giggling to herself: “No, same mother, same father.”
(Everyone bursts out laughing, except my Guy Friend, who proceeds to throw our coach under the bus)

Shoplifting The Prices

, , , , , | Right | March 11, 2020

(I’m working at a popular department store in the women’s clothing section. It’s one of our busy winter sales, and I’ve been walking the floor assisting customers. I notice my coworker at the register has been dealing with the same woman for a while, and I go over to see if I can help.)

Customer: “It’s supposed to be a $28.99 Morning Special! There was a sign!”

Coworker: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but that’s not what it’s scanning at, and I need to verify it before I can adjust the price.” *noticing me approaching* “[My Name], can you go find this item on the floor for me?”

(The customer has a $149 winter coat, which is ringing up on sale at $89.99. There’s absolutely no way we’re selling this coat for thirty dollars.)

Me: “I can go check the sign for you, ma’am. Where did you get it from?”

(The customer leads me back to a clothing rack, which does indeed say, “$28.99 Morning Special,” on one end of it. It also says, “[Brand] Knit Sweaters,” right below that, in a font of the same size. The rack itself is filled with that brand’s sweaters, except on the far side where there are two more of the same winter coats hanging on the end.)

Customer: “See?! Right here!”

Me: “Ma’am, it looks like another customer was looking at these coats and just left them here.”

Customer: “But they’re on this rack! It says, ‘28.99 Morning Special’!”

Me: “Yes, but it also says it’s for [Brand] knit sweaters. I apologize for the confusion; I’ll move the coats back where they came from.”

(The customer scowls and storms off, and I see her back at the register arguing that she should get an exception for the $28.99 price. I beckon for a supervisor, and when the woman sees her coming she quiets down and scuttles away. I tell the supervisor what happened, and she nods after the retreating customer.)

Supervisor: “A few years ago, she used to shoplift from us. I guess she finally got a job.”

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