Time To Wash Your Hands Again

, , , , , | Related | August 7, 2020

After months of quarantine due to the global health crisis, my dad has started going out to work again. I come out of my room one morning to find a really cool-looking black mask — the reusable kind that just needs its filter changed — sitting on the kitchen counter. We’ve been making do with one-use masks, so I’m pretty excited about it.

My dad’s on his computer in the next room, so I go ask.

Me: “Hiya, Dad. What’s with the black mask?”

Dad doesn’t look up from his screen.

Dad: “Oh, I ordered it online for work. I got you one, as well, but it hasn’t arrived.”

Me: “Awesome, thanks! Can I go look at this one? Touch it?”

I emphasize this as, if he’s been outside with it, I sure as h*** don’t want to touch it.

Dad: “Oh, uh, yes, go ahead.”

I go back to the kitchen. Right after I’ve grabbed the mask to inspect the fabric, I hear my dad shouting.

Dad: “Oh, [My Name], it’s used, by the way! Don’t touch it too much!”

Me: “…”

Good thing I had grabbed it by the strap, just in case. Thanks, Dad. And anyway, why would you leave your used mask on the kitchen counter where FOOD is prepared?!

I’ll Have The Allergen Pizza

, , , , | Right | August 6, 2020

I am working as a waitress.

Me: “Good evening. What can I get for you?”

Customer: “I am not sure; I am allergic to vegetables. Actually, I will take the medium pizza.”

Me: “Oh, I am sorry. The base is tomato puree and it is topped with a number of different veggies.”

Customer: “Oh, I am not allergic when they are on pizza.”

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It’s Sweet When The Truth Comes Out

, , , , , , | Right | August 6, 2020

I am working as a waitress.

Me: “Good evening. What can I get for you?”

Customer: “Well, you tell me. I am allergic to sugar.”

The guy at the same table, presumably on a date, speaks up.

Other Customer: “Is that even possible? Like, wouldn’t you die without sugar?”

Customer: “Oh, I mean I’m on a diet. It is just what I tell people so I don’t they don’t add any to my meal. I think I will take the ice cream.”

I had to go to the kitchen to laugh. The guy left halfway through their dinner.

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Check Yourself Before You Wreck Someone Else

, , , , , , , , , | Healthy | August 6, 2020

This took place about eight years ago. My younger brother and I join a group of guys for a game of indoor football — soccer — at our local sports centre every weekend. Everyone else is college age, seventeen or eighteen, while I am the eldest at twenty.

Things go by smoothly. One of the guys is a friend of ours, and there is a clear mix of ability so there is little in the way of unbalanced teams. Nonetheless, one of the guys is super competitive and continually body-checks others into the walls in order to tackle them. As the eldest in the group, I have de facto responsibility to ensure everyone’s health and safety, so I gently ask him at the end of the session to tone down his tackling, since he could seriously injure or be injured in doing so. As I feared, he simply brushes it off and says everything will be fine.

Cut to a few weeks later. My brother is unable to come with so it is just me this time. Everything goes fine until a harsh tackle from me on another guy causes me to roll my ankle, causing me to fall hard on my lower back. As play stops, the idiot I mentioned has the brilliant idea of grabbing me by the arms and ankles and carrying me away from the playing area!

While they carry on their game without a care in the world, I am lying there in agony. Between the now worsened ankle injury, they also jarred my lower back by unceremoniously dumping me on the floor. My friend stops playing and comes over to see if I’m okay. I immediately order him to get a member of staff, which he does. When the on-duty first aider — also the manager — arrives, the guys laugh and tell me to “stop acting like a p****,” to which my friend replies that this is serious.

An ambulance is called and my mother arrives after my friend used my phone to call her. About six hours later, I leave the local hospital on crutches with a severe high ankle sprain and strained lower lumbar muscles, and a metric crapload of various prescription painkillers. The following morning, my ankle has swelled to twice the size and looks the colour of a ripe blackberry. I take a photo for my university as proof — I commute to the uni and will be in no shape to get there for at least a week, maybe even two — and settle in to working out how to use my crutches effectively.

Six months later, I start training again to get my fitness back, and my brother and I go back to the football group. Naturally, they laugh that I took half a year off for “diving”…

…until I wordlessly walk up to the idiot in charge and show him the photo of my blackberry-coloured, inflated ankle. I stress my warning back to him from way before, and I swear I have never seen the colour fade so fast from someone seeing consequences of their actions. 

Nowadays, my ankle is fully functional, if slightly more tender, while my lower back has developed into full-on sciatica. Still enjoy football, though!

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The Karenovirus Is Real

, , , , , , | Right | August 6, 2020

It only took about a year and a half of being a Not Always Right reader for me to finally run into a real, live Karen in the wild. It’s currently the fourth month of the health crisis, and in New Jersey, it has been state law to wear a mask when visiting any public venue — store, restaurant, doctor’s office, etc. — since April. It’s been in every news venue and posted outside every establishment for months now.

While visiting a [Major Big Box Store], I enter — wearing my mask, of course, as is literally everyone else — and go to get my cart from the rack right inside the front door. As I’m wiping off the handle with my antiseptic wipe, a woman about my age walks in with a cart but without a mask.

She is addressed rather loudly by the staff attending the front door but appears to be completely ignoring them. Since it’s noisy and I have a louder-than-normal voice, I try to get her attention, as well. She does turn and look at me, and then looks away when I point at the staff, so I don’t think her hearing was an issue.

When other shoppers that are directly in front of her — and blocking her way — point her to the front door, she finally turns and comes back, where the staff remind her she needs to be wearing a mask to enter the store. She comes off with nothing but attitude — “Why do I need a mask?!” — and when they remind her that it’s the law, she repeats it to them mockingly, like a child would — think of the Spongebob meme with words like this: “ItS tHe LaWwEr.”

She even demands the staff give her a mask, but they remind her it’s not their job to provide them. As she’s leaving her cart with the others, she looks at me for some kind of agreement, but I just raise my eyebrows and shoulders. She does leave the store, but as I’m doing my shopping, I see her again, with a mask. I wanted to yell at her, “Was that so friggin’ hard?!”

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