Make Love, Not Warcraft, Fifth Expansion

, , , , , , | Romantic | October 5, 2017

I am 18, and have a boyfriend who is addicted to World of Warcraft. Sometimes his addiction gets the better of him.

We are standing in the kitchen talking about something, and in the middle of my sentence, he leaves the kitchen and walks into our bedroom, where the computer is, where he proceeds to sit for about ten minutes.

He then comes out, and asks if I had been saying something before he left the kitchen.

It turns out he had gotten an idea about WoW, and had to go play it right that second. He hadn’t even heard a word I said.

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Not In Receipt Of The Correct Answer

, , , , | Right | October 4, 2017

(I work as a cashier, and have a particularly rude customer in my line.)

Me: “Would you like your receipt with you or in the bag?”

Customer: “Yeah.”

Me: “I asked you a question with more than one answer: with you or in the bag?”

Customer: “I said YES!”

Me: “Okay, but I asked a question that doesn’t require a yes or no; it requires an actual choice.”

Customer: “Oh, my God! Just give me the d*** receipt!”

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No ID, No Idea, Part 31

, , , | Right | October 4, 2017

(Policy states that I have to check for an ID whenever a card says “See ID” on the back, even though it is the signature that is supposed to go in that space which validates the card. Everything is going smoothly as I’m selling a beer to a middle-aged woman, until she hands me her card.)

Me: “I see that this card says ‘See ID’. Can I see a form of identification?”

Guest: “I don’t have one on me. I didn’t think I’d need it, since I’m over 21.”

Me: “I know, ma’am. I don’t have any problem with you purchasing the beer; the card just says that I need to see an ID before running it. Do you have another form of payment?”

Guest: “This is ridiculous; you have my husband’s card right there! Why can’t you just run it? I’m old enough.”

Me: “I can’t run it, because I need to see an ID before running it. It’s policy that if I see that written there, I need to see an ID, or I can’t run the card. Again, this doesn’t have anything to do with you purchasing beer. If your husband has his ID, I can run the card.”

(The guest huffs off and returns a minute later with her husband.)

Guest’s Husband: “What the h*** kind of policy is there against a 42-year-old not being allowed to buy beer?”

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My Husband The T-Rex

, , , , | Romantic | October 4, 2017

Me: *making toast in the kitchen* “What are you looking for?”

Husband: “Paper towel.”

Me: *hands it to him; it is right next to his hand* “Wow, that really was a man-look.”

Husband: “I can’t help it. Men have eyesight based on movement. It’s true. Look it up. It’s a hunter thing.”

Me: *laughs* “Are you saying that all men are predators?”

Husband: “Rawr!”

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Will Be Here Until We’re Eighty

, , , , | Working | October 3, 2017

(I’m the dumb employee in this story. I’m working as a cashier, and having just started the new job a week earlier, I’m not familiar with all of it yet. The customer has a huge pile of paper trash bags that are tied with a string. I assume I have to count them all since each bag has an individual bar code.)

Me: “Do you know how many bags there are in this?”

Customer: “Sorry; no.”

Me: “I’ll just have to count them then.”

Customer: “Okay.”

(I start counting and am getting near to seventy when I’m interrupted.)

Customer: “I can the see the price tag on the shelf from here; it says 80 bags.”

Me: “Oh, thanks!”

(At this point, I finally read the barcode, not having done so before.)

Me: “Oh. It says 80 on the computer. I didn’t need to count them. I’m sorry!”

Customer: “New, aren’t you?”

(Luckily, they were understanding and didn’t start an angry rant.)

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