Can’t Run (Away) With Scissors

, , , , | Working | December 8, 2017

(My girlfriend and I are buying cute, animal-themed onesies, and on impulse decide to wear them home. We leave the change-rooms, gather all of our stuff from the attendant, and head to the front.)

Cashier: “Oh, you have to take those off for us to scan them.”

(We share a look, and both wonder why the attendant didn’t say anything when we grabbed our things, as that seems like a pretty clear “we are leaving now” gesture. When we get back, we are informed that now that the rooms are full, we are going to have to wait.)

Girlfriend: “We were planning on wearing these out, but we were told we’d have to take them off.”

Attendant: “Oh, yeah, haha, that’s right!”

Me: “….Well, maybe next time, you might want to tell people first?”

Attendant: “Oh, right, haha!” *shrugs and walks off*

(At this point, I am quite irritated with this girl. A room finally opens up, we change, and I’m sent up to the counter to pay while [Girlfriend] waits in the change-room.)

Cashier: “Yeah, we just need this to be off to remove the tags.”

Me: “Okay, yeah, I get that, but I really think we should have been told that at the change-rooms.”

Cashier: *shrugs*

(I return to the change-rooms, we get back in our onesies, and I realize that the girl left a huge tag right on the front. While collecting our stuff yet again, I hold up the tag to the attendant.)

Me: “I need some scissors.”

Attendant: *bright smile* “Okay!” *stares at me*

Me: “Umm…”

Attendant: *still staring*

Me: “So… can I have some scissors?”

Attendant: “Oh, I don’t have any.”

(I roll my eyes and head up to the counter, which has a short line. At first I’m waiting patiently, but after a few minutes of watching them stand there doing nothing but chat with each other, I’m pretty fed up with the whole affair and turn to my girlfriend.)

Me: “You know what? F*** this.”

(I walk straight up to the counter, lean over, grab a pair of scissors, cut off the tag, and turn to my girlfriend.)

Me: “Okay, NOW we can GO.” *turn on my heel and march straight out*

Pride Goeth Before The Bigot

, , , , , , , | Friendly | December 8, 2017

(My friend is at a gay bar during Pride Weekend in Canada. While there, a rather douchey American guy tries repeatedly to hit on her. She tells him several times that she isn’t interested but he keeps trying. Eventually, he stumbles over to her, quite drunk, and says loudly:)

Guy: “Hey, have you noticed how many [homophobic slur]s there are in here?!”

(A few people around him give really weird stares.)

Friend: “Er… What do you expect? It’s Pride Weekend.”

Guy: “Pride Weekend? What the f*** is that s***?”

Friend: “Well, it’s a weekend for LGBTQ people to celebrate being themselves.”

Guy: “What’s LBTGQ?”

(A couple of her friends laugh loudly at this.)

Friend’s Friend: “Sweetie, take a look around; you’ll have your answer!”

(Almost immediately the guy’s eyes bulge out of his skull.)

Guy: “WHAT? YOU MEAN I’M GONNA BE STUCK HERE WITH [SLUR]S ALL WEEKEND?! THAT’S F****** SICK! THAT GUY SET ME UP!”

(He bolted outside. My friend later saw him yelling into his phone at someone about how they had “set him up.” My friend and her buddies had a good laugh about it. Can’t imagine that guy made too many friends that weekend.)

Very Quickly Put The Matter To Bed

, , , , , | Working | December 7, 2017

(We have just moved into a new house in a new city. My adult son and I both need new beds. The two of us go into a store that sells beds and are met by a salesman.)

Salesman: “Welcome to [Store]! What are you looking for today?”

Me: “I need a firm mattress and he—” *points to son* “—needs a soft one.”

Salesman: “So, we need something in the middle, then?”

Me: “I am not planning on sleeping with my son! We need two beds!”

(Very sheepishly, he showed us around the store.)

Nothing Plain About This Order

, , , | Working | December 7, 2017

(I am in the car with my mother and brother, and we stop by the drive-thru of a popular chain coffee and donut shop.)

Employee: “Welcome to [Restaurant], how may I help you?”

Mom: “Could I have a small white hot chocolate and a small plain hot chocolate, please?”

Employee: “Okay, so, two large hot chocolates?”

Mom: “No. A small white hot chocolate and a small plain hot chocolate.”

Employee: “So, a small white hot chocolate and a large plain hot chocolate?”

Mom: “No! A small white hot chocolate and a small plain hot chocolate.”

Employee: “Two small plain hot chocolates?”

Mom: “NO! A small white hot chocolate and a small plain hot chocolate, please!”

(Much to our alarm/amusement, the employee begins laughing!)

Employee: “Okay, a small white hot chocolate and a small plain hot chocolate?”

Mom: “YES. Thank you!”

(To this day I still have no idea what was going through that employee’s mind. I sure do know what was going through my mom’s!)

How To Be A Total As(thma)

, , , , , | Working | December 7, 2017

(I am five years old at this time. I have had trouble breathing, and so my mom takes me to the ER. Note that she is a nurse.)

Doctor #1: “What seems to be the problem?”

Mom: “She can’t breathe, and some of her symptoms are matching up to asthma.”

(The doctor examines me.)

Mom: “What is it?”

Doctor #1: “She’s fine. You can just take her home.”

Mom: “What? No! Look at her. Do you think she’s fine? I’m a nurse, and I can tell that this is asthma.”

Doctor #1: “Ma’am, I am part of the board of Asthma Awareness. She is fine.”

Mom: “No, she is not. If you will not listen to me, then I demand to see another doctor.”

Doctor #1: “Ugh. Fine.”

(My mom overhears this:)

Doctor #1: “[Doctor #2] We have one of THOSE moms in there. Just patiently listen to her and send her away.”

Doctor #2: *walks in and looks at me* “Oh my gosh! She needs to go to the ICU.”

(I went to the ICU. I made a full recovery, and my asthma was well controlled after I was diagnosed.)

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