This Should Ruffle A Few Feathers

, , , , , , | Friendly | September 16, 2019

(I’m cleaning up after a cat incident, letting out harsh, barking coughs every few seconds. After a few minutes of this, my housemate sticks her head out her door in concern.)

Housemate: “You okay? What happened?”

Me: “[Cat] caught a bird. It wasn’t hurt, so I let it go outside, but it lost a lot of feathers.”

Housemate: “Aren’t you allergic to feathers?”

Me: “EXTREMELY.”

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Same Cast, Different Script

, , , , , , | Learning | September 15, 2019

(A few weeks before starting my third year of college, I have a major ankle surgery and I am naturally in a cast and on crutches when the school year begins. The dorm building I am living in has a schedule of fire drills for the year posted in the main entryway, so all residents know when the fire drills will happen. The day of the first fire drill arrives and it is pouring rain. In the morning, I talk to one of the Resident Advisors [RA #1] and show him the impossible-to-miss cast on my leg. He emails the university housing department for guidance, and the housing department replies that as long as I can get to the main entrance, I will be granted an exception from having to go outside. When the fire alarm goes off, I get to the main entrance, where [RA #2] is shouting at the top of his lungs.)

RA #2: “Come on, hurry up! Get outside, people!”

Me: *hobbling down the hallway on my crutches* “Hey, [RA #2], I’m here.”

RA #2: “Get outside! We can’t count this drill as a pass if you don’t get outside!”

Me: “I should have an exception from the housing department saying I only needed to get to the main entrance for today. You should have gotten an email about it, or you can ask [RA #1].”

RA #2: “I don’t care what the email said, and I don’t care what [RA #1] says! You need to get outside! What would you do if we had an actual fire right now?”

Me: “For a real fire, I would obviously be outside, but we all know this is a drill. I’m not going outside and ruining my cast for a drill. Talk to the housing department if you have a problem with it.”

RA #2: “We can’t pass the fire drill if you don’t get outside!”

Me: “All right, then do you mind if I go back up to my dorm to grab a garbage bag? If I’m going to go outside, I need something waterproof to wrap around my cast.”

RA #2: *now screaming in my face* “We can’t go back into the building! JUST GET OUTSIDE!”

Me: *shoving him back with my crutch* “Okay, here’s the deal. I’ll go outside, but I’m informing you now that I’ll be charging you the cost of my cast replacement since you’re refusing to follow a written instruction from the housing department granting me an exception from going outside today. You’ll hear from my family’s attorney after I get the bill for the cast replacement.”

RA #2: *somehow only now noticing my cast for the first time* “Oh. You’re in a cast? Then… I guess… you can stay inside this time, since it’s only a drill.”

Me: “Thank you!”

(I still sent in an official complaint to the housing department about [RA #2]. He received a pretty heavy talking-to for the incident, and he completely avoided me for the rest of the year.)

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The Day That Silenced Everyone

, , , , , , | Right | September 11, 2019

(In September 2001, I am on vacation. While I’m there, my boss suffers a massive heart attack and has to be placed in a medically-induced coma. I return home from vacation late on the evening of 10 September and go into work the next morning needing to handle the small company myself. Of course, the day ends up being one of the worst in US history. Several of our clients and vendors are in New York City, and my boss was still comatose. To top it off, we import a significant portion of our product from Scandinavia, which is then held in Customs during the Anthrax scare a week following 9/11. Most of our clients are understanding, but I have variations of this conversation multiple times a day — including with the owner.)

Client: “Why isn’t my [product] here yet?”

Me: “As you know, [product] is shipped from Scandinavia—“

Client: “So?”

Me: “Currently all shipping containers are being held at Port Authority—“

Client: “What?! Why? I need it!”

Me: “Due to recent events, everything is being secured—“

Client: “Well, what the h*** are they even doing?”

Me: “Checking for explosives and/or Anthrax.”

Client: “I want to talk to [Boss]!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but [Boss] is currently unavailable due to a medical emergency—“

Client: “When will he be back?”

Me: “At this point, I am unable to say.”

Client: “…”

Me: “…”

Client: “…”

Me: “I will email you as soon as your [product] clears customs and is in route.”

(When my boss woke up six weeks later, we had to explain to him how the world had literally changed, which caused a second heart attack. I ended up running that small company for the next four months, and then quit once my boss was back and recovered.)

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Worf Has His Priorities Straight

, , , , , | Right | September 11, 2019

(I work at a large chain grocery store. I’m currently stocking an aisle when a customer approaches me, seeing my work apron.)

Customer: “Hello, ma’am!”

Me: “How can I help you, sir?”

Customer: “I have two things for you today. First, where is your prune juice located?”

Me: “Right over here, sir.” *walks him to the juice aisle* “And what was the second thing, sir?”

Customer: *looks uncomfortable* “If you could let your manager know that one of the toilets in the men’s room is… overflowing.”

Me: “…”

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Allergic To Common Sense, Part 16

, , , , | Right | September 11, 2019

(I’m having lunch at a small diner.)

Waiter: “Hello. What can I get you?”

Me: “I’ll have fries, a chocolate shake, and a burger. No pickles or onions, please.”

Waiter: “Are you allergic?”

Me: “No, I just don’t like onions and pickled food makes me gag.”

Waiter: “Are you sure?”

Me: “How often do you have people pretending to have allergies?”

Waiter: “Too often. I don’t get why people won’t just admit they don’t like something.”

Me: “From experience, they either think disliking and being allergic are the same thing or they believe that they’ll get their food faster.”

Waiter: “Yeah, as if we didn’t have to scrub everything and use separate utensils.”

Me: “And makes it harder for people with actual allergies. Anyway, about the food…”

Waiter: “Oh, right, sorry. Coming right up.”

(While I was waiting for my food, in the booth next to me, a father kept saying his kids were allergic to cheese. The kids insisted they weren’t. The guy’s wife returned from the restroom and slapped him over the head. It turns out he didn’t like the cheesy smell and gooey mess.)

Related:
Allergic To Common Sense, Part 15
Allergic To Common Sense, Part 14
Allergic To Common Sense, Part 13

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