That’s His Story And He’s Stick-ing To It

, , , , , | Related | September 22, 2017

(While I sit at the dining room table on my computer, my older brother is sitting across from me, attempting to carve wood. He’s trying to get a knot out of the edge of the wood, and doing so in a very dangerous manner, hammering the point of the blade in with the handle of a different blade, while the blade in the wood is pointing towards his hand. Since he’s already proven to be accident-prone and easily injured, I speak up.)

Me: “I’m worried you’re going to hurt yourself.”

Brother: “Nah, it’s fine.”

(I sigh and turn back to my computer. Suddenly, my brother lets out a loud yelp!)

Brother: “It was the stick! The stick stabbed me, not the blade!”

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Not Sure If They Need Less Medication Or More

, , , | Right | September 21, 2017

Me: “Good evening, and thank you for calling [Big Name Pharmacy]. How can I help you?

Customer: “I need to identify a pill.”

Me: “Absolutely. Can you give me a description?”

Customer: “It’s a yellow, round pill with an ‘A’ on it. It’s pretty dirty, though.”

Me: “Oh, I really wouldn’t take any medication that appears damaged or contaminated.”

Customer: “No, it’s okay. I found it on the ground outside.”

Me: *professionalism waning* “Uh… what? You found it where?”

Customer: “I found it on the… the street just now, and I want to make sure it’s okay to take.”

Me: *professionalism out the window* “Do you usually eat random s*** off the street?!”

Customer: *hangs up*

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Entitlement Can Be Disabling

, , , , , , , | Friendly | September 20, 2017

(I am attending the county fair, and I go to use the women’s bathroom. There is only one handicapped stall, and a polite woman using a wheelchair is waiting to use it. She even moves her chair to make sure I can get into an empty stall. Once I am done, she is still waiting, and I notice she is squirming a lot in her chair. I work with disabled individuals, and I know that those with mobility issues, especially those who are paralyzed, can have little to no control over their bladders.)

Me: “Are you all right?”

Woman In Chair: “Yes, it’s just… I’ve been waiting about ten minutes, and it’s getting harder and harder.”

Me: *I knock on the stall door* “Excuse me, are you all right?”

Woman In Stall: “See? I told you to hurry up; people are waiting! We are not leaving this stall until you go potty!”

Child: *also in stall* “I don’t have to go! I told you already!”

Woman In Stall: “I don’t care! We’re not leaving!”

Me: “Ma’am? I’m sorry, but there are people waiting to use this stall.”

Woman In Stall: “We’re in here!”

Woman In Chair: “I can wait, I think. I’m trying.” *squirms more* “Really, I don’t like to cause a scene.”

Me: *to the woman in the stall* “Ma’am, that is the only stall large enough for anyone with a wheelchair to use; you need to move so others can use it.”

Woman In Stall: “I have my daughter with me!”

Child: “I don’t have to go!”

(This goes around for about three minutes. The mother keeps yelling at her daughter to go potty, the daughter says she doesn’t have to, and I try my hardest to figure out how to get a woman who cannot walk at all into a stall that isn’t large enough for her wheelchair. It’s not happening, at all. Even the larger stalls all have tiny doors. The woman in her wheelchair is actually tearing up.)

Woman In Chair: “This is my anniversary trip. I don’t have any spare clothes, or another seat cushion, and I just can’t… I can’t wait.”

Me: *bangs on the stall door*

Woman In Stall: “FINE!”

(She comes out of the stall, revealing that her daughter has to be close to seven years old. They leave, and I move out of the way so the woman in the chair can get in. As I move, an eleven-year-old girl walks over and actually steps over the foot pedals of the woman in the wheelchair!)

Me: “Hey! Wait your turn, please.”

Woman In Chair: “Excuse me. I was next; I’ve been waiting.”

Girl: *stares straight at the woman in the wheelchair as she shoves the door shut and locks it, literally having to push the woman back to do so*

Woman In Chair: *crying* “Please! Please! I can’t hold it any longer. Every other stall is free! Please!”

(The girl ignores us, and a woman comes in and walks straight past us and to the handicapped stall. She begins talking to her daughter through the stall.)

Me: “Ma’am, your daughter pushed this woman aside, who has been waiting!”

Mother: “Oops, sorry about that.” *continues talking to her daughter, notices that the woman in the wheelchair is crying* “[Child], this is actually a very good lesson for you. Look how upset this woman is getting over a bathroom stall. That is ridiculous! You did nothing wrong; it’s stupid to get upset over a stall.”

Me: “Wow! I’d be more upset over the fact you and your daughter are b****es.”

(The mother throws a literal tantrum. Her daughter comes out, and the mother then refuses to move, standing in front of the handicapped stall and trying to get other women in the bathroom to side with her, repeatedly saying, “I don’t have to move if I don’t want to; am I right?” Finally, a woman who has been doing her makeup at the sink turns around and stares the mother down.)

Makeup Woman: “If I were you, I would be beyond embarrassed. First for your daughter’s obvious lack of manners, and then for your own. If you were one of my employees, or if my daughters acted even close to how yours has, I’d be appalled. You are at a community event, and you are a parent. Act like an adult.” *looks at the girl* “As for you, I hope that you do not grow up to act like you are acting now, or how your mother is, because I can assure you it is a mistake.”

(The mother grabbed her daughter’s unwashed hand and stormed out, a bunch of us laughing at her as she did so.)

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Making A Boob Of Them All

, , , , , , | Friendly | September 20, 2017

(I start puberty early, and by the age of ten, I have a well-developed chest, while most of my classmates are still very flat. I was constantly teased long before this, but the other girls have started a loud campaign to convince everyone that my breasts are fake. One day, I am in the girls restroom when the head “mean girl” and her friends surround me.)

Mean Girl: “Look; we all KNOW you’re stuffing. You can’t fool anyone! Just admit it.”

Me: *fed up at this point, I lift up the front of my shirt and flash the entire group* “Trust me; they’re real.”

(I then left without saying another word. While I was still teased for a variety of other reasons, somehow no one ever questioned my breasts again.)

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Your Mouth Will Get You Into Trouble

, , , , | Working | September 20, 2017

(I’ve just had a root canal and tooth extraction. I also have TMD [Temporomandibular joint dysfunction] and it’s difficult to anaesthetise my gums, resulting in a swollen jaw on the side that wasn’t worked on, and the maximum dose of anaesthetic being used to just taper off the pain. I’m not the happiest of bunnies while leaving the dentist. I’m making my way home, walking through the main street of my town when a woman holding a clipboard points at me from about 20 metres away. I try to avoid her but she cuts me off.)

Woman: “Got a minute, dude?”

Me: *walking around her* “No, sorry. I’ve just been to the dentist—”

Woman: *cutting me off again* “No worries, mate. You don’t have to talk.”

(I decide to just let her sell whatever crap she’s pushing and get it over with. I shrug and nod.)

Woman: “GREAT! First question: how old are you?”

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