That Attitude Is Very Self-Serving

, , , , , | Right | June 19, 2020

I am a flight attendant. We are in the air and I’m doing a beverage service. I ask a woman by the window:

Me: “Would you like a beverage, ma’am?”

Her husband in the middle seat says to me:

Husband: “You have to pardon my wife; she doesn’t speak to servants.”

Me: “Very well. I don’t serve until spoken to.”

Everyone else on the plane got drinks and dinner. She didn’t.

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Vagrant Story

, , , , | Right | June 18, 2020

The area where I work has a fairly high homeless population, who will often hang around in the area, looking for people to pay for a meal for them. I will try to help out on occasion, but there are limits.

On this day, I get called back into the back office to find my boss — who is kind of a coward — a man in a suit, and an older man who I recognize as a vagrant I had to kick out of the store a while ago.

Boss: “[My Name], did you kick this man out two weeks ago?”

Me: “Yes, because—”

Vagrant: “You can’t treat people like that!”

He starts literally spitting in my face.

Vagrant: “I’m gonna have your job for this!”

I raise my own voice.

Me: “You were in the women’s restroom, giving yourself a bath from the sink!”

Utter silence falls, as my boss is basically cringing behind his desk, looking between us, and the man in the suit, who I’m guessing is a lawyer, is giving the vagrant man a look of disgust.

Vagrant: “Y-you don’t know about… Times are hard; I’ve got to do what I can and—”

Me: “Not in the women’s restroom where anyone can walk in, and not when there is a gym right across the parking lot that has publicly-available showers.”

At that point, the man in the suit picked up his bag from against the wall and just walked out, with the vagrant shouting at him as he followed. My boss continued to sit there, staring at me for a bit, before he actually pulled out a write-up sheet. After a few more moments of me just staring at him, he put it away and just waved me off to go back to work.

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These Dog Shows Have Really Gone To The Dogs

, , , , , , , | Friendly | June 17, 2020

My wife and I have had many dogs in the years we have been married. Some might have been purebred. We don’t know; none were ever papered or registered. Most of the dogs we have had are what are commonly referred to as mutts, but we love each and every one of them; they are family members. As a term of affection, we often refer to our dogs as mutts, no disrespect meant for their lack of pedigree breeding, just our term for a well-loved pet.

We decided to go with a relative to a dog show in another city — one of those fancy dog shows with high-priced dogs, well-paid trainers and handlers, etc.

As we were in the parking lot on the way in, a lady walked by with what we refer to as a “dust-mop” dog — small, long-hair, etc. My wife whispered to me, privately, “Oh, what a cute mutt!”

The lady overheard her and immediately went into a rage, quoting the long list of the dog’s pedigree, the papers, the ribbons, the awards, etc. She was ranting and raving about how low-class we were for not acknowledging the superiority of her dog. We said nothing. Then the lady said, “I bet your dog doesn’t have papers.”

To this, I responded, “Well, he did have some, but he couldn’t read them so we put them on the floor when he was a puppy, and he used them. What does your dog do with his?”

Screams of obscenities followed us into the show.

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Please Do Not Pet The Managers

, , , , , , , | Right | June 17, 2020

I shop at a dollar store near my house frequently. I know pretty much all the employees, and they know me and my service dog. I’m in one day and the manager happens to be ringing me out.

The customer behind me sees my service dog and leans down to pet him.

Me: “Ma’am, please don’t touch him.”

Customer: “Oh, come on! He’s so cute!”

Me: “Yes, and he’s working. Please leave him alone.”

Customer: “You can’t control me! If I want to pet him, I’ll pet him! I don’t care if he’s working!”

The manager speaks up.

Manager: “I’m cute, too. Will you pet me?

The customer looks at him: a six-foot, heavily-built man.

Customer: “Well… I… Hmph!”

Manager: “Yeah, that’s what I thought. If you ain’t gonna pet me, you ain’t gotta pet a working dog.”

And that’s part of why I always shop there!

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This Is How It Goes Down

, , , , , , , | Right | June 16, 2020

While in line at a store, I overhear the lady behind me talking on the phone to who I think is her husband. 

Lady:No, do not let them get vaccines! Why?! Because I don’t want our kids to have Down Syndrome; I don’t want to pay for that! Just refuse it!”

I’m more than curious so I interrupt the conversation.

Me: “Ma’am, did I just hear that right?!”

Lady: *Misunderstands my tone* “Oh, yeah, vaccines can give your kids Down Syndrome; I read it in an article!” *looks at me* “Make sure you don’t get your kids vaccines. It’s dangerous!”

Me: “Uh, no, it won’t.”

Lady:Yes, it will! I know these things. My magazine doesn’t lie!”

A lot of people are now listening in.

Me: “Okay, lady, I don’t know what you’re reading, but basic knowledge says it’s impossible. You can’t create another separate chromosome from dead viruses. There is no way your kids can get Down Syndrome.”


I don’t even notice the manager behind her, fuming. He then taps her on the shoulder and she turns around.

Manager: “If you believe that for one second, you need to get out of my store. I’m actually going through college to better understand these kinds of diseases. You wanna know why? Because my daughter has Down Syndrome and she is the best thing to happen to me. And I can sure as h*** tell you he doesn’t have it. Now get out of my store.”

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