It Needs To Be A Nudge Nudge Wink Wink Before It’s Official

, , , , , , | Romantic | January 12, 2019

(I have glasses, and sometimes when they get dirty I close one of my eyes and look to see if it’s that side of the glasses or the other that’s dirty. I am walking to class and I see some blurriness, so I do the thing I mentioned. I close one of my eyes and look. Then I notice a boy looking funny at me. I brush it off because not everyone does what I do. It is later that day when I am waiting in the hall and browsing NotAlwaysRight. The same guy I saw sits down next to me and starts to lean in and play bad music on his speaker. I just keep sitting there, still reading.)

Guy: “Soooo… a couple of hours ago…”

Me: *looks up and waits for him to continue*

Guy: *raises eyebrow*

Me: *still waiting*

Guy: *starts to lean in, probably for a kiss*

Me: “Uh. You okay?”

Guy: “Yeah? Why? You scared?”

Me: “No, just confused.”

Guy: “What’s confusing? You were winking at me just a while ago!”

Me: “…” *remembers this is the same dude as before* “Sorry, I was just looking through my glasses.”

Guy: “Yeah, right.” *stands up and starts to leave*

Me: “Well… good luck to the next girl you want to randomly kiss in the hall.”

Guy: *looks at me surprised and hurries away*

(Peeps, if you think someone is winking at you, that doesn’t mean you can just kiss ’em.)

Unfiltered Story #119047

, | Unfiltered | August 27, 2018

(At the Military Memorial Park of Pákozd, where I worked, several old and modern military objects are displayed in the open. Amongst these are nonfunctional artillery, fargos and others; most of them can be freely accessed and “used” (kids love to climb and steer them). However, there is a tank from ’56, which is real, and since its injuries were real, too, it is dangerous to touch and climb. The edges are sharp, and the shell itself is bumpy. There are several forbidding signs with pictures and text “Do not climb” etc, around the tank, a barricade, and even a low chain fence. Despite these, several visitors climb the tank. Below is a small compilation of my experiences.)

Me: Please, do not climb on the tank. It is dangerous!
84 years old man: Young lady, I know it is dangerous, I used to drive these!
*slips, cuts hand* …sorry, do you have a bandage?

Me: Please, sir, get down from the tank. It is forbidden to climb.
Patron: I didn’t know! Girlie, you can’t tell me what to do!
Me: There are five warning signs. We were watching you looking at them. And yes, I can.
Patron: Well, I cannot read!
Me: They also have pictures. Down. Now. *setting my arms a-kimbo. While I’m petite, recently I trained a lot throwing grenades etc. for the park’s activities, and my army green shirt showed off my muscles. *
Patron *suddenly scared, realizing where exactly he is* Sorry, ma’am!
*scurries down*

Me: Please, kids, come down. It is a real tank, it is dangerous to climb. You see how sharp it’s this?
Older kid, about five: Ohh, I see! Sorry, miss! *helps his little brother descend safely*
Father *suddenly shows up*: How dare you shout at my kids? They are upset! They will cry!
Younger kid: Daddy, she didn’t shout…
Father *screaming*: Entitled little bitch, I’ll show you…
Other patron, who previously had a chat with me, laughing: Cool off, man, she was kind…
Me: Please, stop disturbing others, sir, or we will have to escort you out of the premises.
Father: You? That’s rich!
Other patron to me: Please, lieutenant, can I watch you kick his ass? Pretty pretty please!
Father *suddenly terrified, flees*
Kids: Sorry, miss!
Me to other patron: Thank you, but I thought I’ve already confirmed I’m not actually in military?…
Other patron: Yes, but I wanted to see his face, and you definitely look like you are! So… can you tell me more about the trenches?…

Me: Please, sir, do not climb on the barricade, nor the tank. It is dangerous. You are welcome to try the other artilleries, and we have a MIG-29 simulator inside…
Man in flip-flops: Shut up, bitch! I do what I want! *slips, sprints his ankle, starts screaming in pain*
Me: …would you like me to call you an ambulance, sir?
Man *sheepisly* No, sorry… can you call my wife here?… *points to a woman nearby*
I had the satisfaction on watching her chewing him out for his stupidity, and she even gave me a candy bar!

Me: Please, ma’am, climb off the tank. It is dangerous, and forbidden strictly.
Patron: Yeah, I saw the signs. I do what the fuck I want. Go away, little slut!
Me *smiling, pointing to another, new sign* And you don’t care about the wasps inside…?
Patron *screeches, takes off as fast as she can*

Me: Sir, please, do not lift your kids on the tank. It is dangerous.
Patron *doesn’t listen, continues to set his one-year-old baby right next to a big, sharp gash*
His kids have been actually listening, and started to carefully slip down. I helped one of them.
Me to the patron:  Please, sir, take your child off the tank. It is dangerous.
Patron *suddenly screaming* How dare you touch my children! I’ll call the police! I…
*my hunk coworker appears, with a stern face; the patron pales* … I’ll leave…
*takes his children, leaves*

Spotting someone climbing the tank was an everyday occurrence, but most of our patrons were sensible enough for not screaming at us for making them get off. Regrettably, we always had that one idiot (usually an adult) who decided they should ignore all warnings. One time someone decided to climb the tank while there was a protocol event. The actual soldiers took care of him fast!

Unfiltered Story #119045

, | Unfiltered | August 27, 2018

The main building in the Military Memorial Park has several modern exhibits, amongst them one about aviation. I’m on duty in that station in this day, manning the MIG-29 simulator. The day is slow, and I’m starting to get bored, when a sweet old couple walks in. The husband looks at the simulator, which consist of a real cockpit with the booby-hatch from a MIG-27 plane, and a control panel in front of a big screen and cheers up.
Old gentleman: Honey, look at this! This seems like just the real deal! And I suppose you young miss are the pilot? You will take us on a journey?
Me, smiling: Almost, sir. I will assist you, but you will be the one piloting! I’m just a navigator for you. Would you like to take a seat? Or you, ma’am?
Old lady: Can we both try it? Is it even possible for old farts like us to do this?
Me: But of course! Fun has no age limits!
Old gentleman: And what happens if we fail? Will we crash and die?
Me: No, sir, I’d never let it! You see, I can operate the catapult here, so if I see that you are in danger, we just leave the plane… Would you like to try it?
Old lady: I think I will die from happiness! This is fantastic! Let me try!

They both tried it, screaming in childish glee, admiring the game’s realistic view and generally behaving like a kid in the candy shop. They both failed the mission first, but as it was a slow day, I confirmed with the receptionist, and let them play with the simulator as long as they wanted, helping them using the controls. After a while, both of them managed to safely land (not an easy feat for anyone)! They were really nice and genuinely happy, really cheering me up. Even just dealing with them already made my day, but later they came back with sweets and a small pendant for me. They insisted I have them, and the old lady even gave me a hug!

I Calculate A 100% Chance Of Failure

, , , , | Working | August 20, 2018

(I work as an accountant and have a very… interesting coworker. I take her calculator and try to make my coworker count in her head.)

Me: “What’s 50% of 18?”

Coworker: “I can’t count without my calculator!”

Me: “Just try, what’s 50% of 18?”

Coworker: “6?”

Me: “What’s 6 plus 6?”

Coworker: “12.”

Me: “So what’s 50% of 18?”

Coworker: “8.”

Me: “And what’s 8 plus 8?”

Coworker: “I can’t do it without my calculator!”

Me: “I won’t give it back to you unless you tell me.”

Coworker: “16.”

Me: “So what’s 50% of 18?”

Coworker: “9.”

Me: “Okay, and what’s 18 plus 9?”

Coworker: “I. Can’t. Count. Without. My. CALCULATOR!”

In Gulag We Eat Goulash

, , , | Right | July 18, 2018

(Our professor tells us this story about her student visiting Hungary and going out to eat.)

Student: “I’ll have the Gulag, please.”

Waiter: “Excuse me?”

Student: “Gulag.”

Waiter: “Oh, you mean goulash. You don’t want to say that other word again.”

(Goulash is a traditional stew. A Gulag was a Soviet work camp.)

Page 1/212