Left To Giggle For A Punishing Amount Of Time

, , , | Learning | December 9, 2018

(I am in fifth or sixth grade. About nine out of every ten teachers at my elementary school are the same general mix of authoritarian, power-tripping, prone to yelling and handing out punishments for extremely minor infractions, and borderline neglectful of the kids in their charge. My friend and I, both of us students who never get in trouble, unexpectedly get called out by the teacher for something trivial during the lesson, possibly for something like saying a few words to each other without permission.)

Teacher: “Leave the classroom, you two, and stand outside by the door until I call you back in!”

(This is a frequent “punishment” for less serious misbehavior; it’s supposed to last five to ten minutes at the very most — any seriously disruptive conduct gets you sent to the principal. We do as she said, all while thinking how stupid of a punishment this is, since we now get to miss part of a lesson that bores us to tears AND stand around unsupervised in an empty hallway together while talking as much as we like. Ten minutes pass as we stand around chatting and laughing quietly. Then fifteen minutes. Then twenty minutes. The teacher never calls us back in. We slowly realize she must have forgotten about us. Another teacher passes by us in the hallway and notices us.)

Other Teacher: “What’s going on? Why are you two standing around here on your own?”

(My friend and I look at each other, briefly consider telling her that it looks like we were forgotten there, and immediately decide, “Nahhhh.”)

Us: *innocently* “We were ordered to wait out here by Ms. [Teacher] as punishment, Ms. [Other Teacher]!”

Other Teacher: “Oh, right. Well, carry on, then.” *leaves*

(We giggle to each other and go on talking and playing in the hallway. About twenty more minutes later the lesson ends, and our teacher opens the door to the classroom to let the other kids out. She sees us standing there and makes an incredibly surprised face.)

Teacher: “Oh. Um… What?”

Us: *very innocently* “We’ve been waiting out here for you to let us back in, just like you told us to, Ms. [Teacher]!”

Teacher: *clearly flustered* “Umm… Well! Right! Just go ahead and get in the room and get your things. And go on to your next class. And I hope you’ve learned not to disrupt the class anymore! Yeah…” *very awkward expression, plainly trying to cover for her mistake and hoping we don’t realize what happened*

(We pretended ignorance but started giggling at her expense as soon as her back was turned.)

Office-Based Frustration On The Rise, As Coworkers’ Attachment To Incompetence Leads To Inability To Open Attachments

, , , , | Working | November 12, 2018

Me: “I completed the first draft of the user manual. Please find it attached to this email for review. It can also be accessed on the local company server at the following link: [link].”

Coworker: *reply all, CCing all sixteen people on the thread* “I am out of the country and I cannot access the local server; please send it as an attachment.”

Me: *directly to coworker with no one else CCd* “Hi. It’s possible you missed it, but I attached the draft to the previous email because I knew you were out of the country. In any case, I’ve attached it to this email, as well.”

(Several days later:)

Me: “Hi, all. Thank you for your feedback! Please find attached the second draft of the manual, incorporating your comments. It can also be accessed on the local company server at the following link: [link]. If everyone approves this draft I will release the finalized document.”

Coworker: *reply ALL again* “I’m still out of the country; attach the draft to the email! I can’t download from the local server!”

Me: *directly to coworker* “Here you go.”

(Ever since then, I always bold the phrase, “Please find attached…” If he replies to another huge thread asking for an attachment that I already sent, I’m going to start writing it in ALL CAPS, maybe in red. I don’t want to embarrass the dude, but he’s doing a pretty good job of it without my help.)

Sit Down, You’ll Like This One

, , , | Right | September 12, 2018

(Overheard at an airport:)

Ticketing Agent #1: *on phone* “No! He said the child was under age two when he made the reservation!”

Ticketing Agent #2: “Of all the gall…”

Me: “What happened?”

Ticketing Agent #1: “Children under two fly free, seated on a parent’s lap. Children over two have to have a seat. The flight was full, so he missed it because there wasn’t a seat available for his son.”

Ticketing Agent #2: “I don’t think he’ll try that again…”

Unfiltered Story #118171

| Unfiltered | August 9, 2018

(At the company I work for, customer service are open from 7am until 8pm. Tech support is open 24/7. This call comes in at 9:30pm)
Me: Tech support, this is [me]. How may I help you?
Caller: I heard that since I’ve been a loyal customer for five years, I’m supposed to get some kind of gift.
Me: Unfortunately, I don’t know anything about that, seeing as I’m tech support and customer service closed an hour and a half ago. I suggest you call them tomorrow, at [number], between 7am and 8pm. They’ll be able to help you with that.
Caller: [company name] is a s****y company! *click*

*blinks in confusion*

Superman And The Books Of Evil

, , , , , | Romantic | August 6, 2018

I usually have very vivid dreams — so vivid that sometimes I wake up confused as to why I’m not where I was in the dream. Tonight, I dreamed that my husband turned evil and came home with an evil Superman to destroy our books. I, of course, couldn’t let that happen, so I started punching them, kicking them, and trying to fight them, but they were ridiculously strong and nothing worked. At some point in the dream, they burned the books, so I poured some water over them. The bad guys then proceeded to spill an entire bucket of water over all the books, even those not burnt or burning.

I told my “evil” husband that he wasn’t allowed to touch the books unless he treated them with respect.

He made a noise, and then I smacked him in the face, only to realize with a start that it was a dream, because I actually smacked him in reality. He jumped up, super startled, and I could only apologize.

As I related to him the dream and the reason behind smacking him, we couldn’t stop laughing about the whole thing.

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