My Moon And My Stars

, , , | Romantic | September 4, 2017

(I’m swapping silly “I love yous” with my significant other:)

Me: “Also, I earths you.”

Me: “…and moons…”

Me: “…and other assorted celestial bodies.”

Significant Other: “You moons me?”

Me: “Uh… that was maybe poorly phrased.”

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Armed With A Comeback

, , | Related | June 13, 2017

(As my dad is getting older, his eyesight is getting slightly worse, meaning he is starting to be unable to read things that are too close to him. We start noticing it when he reads the newspaper and has to hold it further and further away from his face.)

Mum: “Maybe it’s time for you to get glasses?”

Dad: “No!”

Mum: “Well, it’s normal for people our age to have problems with their eyes.” *my mum wears glasses for one or two years already*

Dad: “My eyes are just fine! But my arms are getting shorter!”

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A Kiss Can Take You To Many Places

, , | Friendly | June 2, 2017

(A couple of years ago, when I am around 21, I am working at the company that provides public transportation (buses and trains) in my region. I work at the office. My dad is a bus driver for the same company. One of the perks of working there is that we can travel for free on our buses and trains. One day, it just happens that my dad is the driver of the bus I’m taking. I get on, give him a quick kiss on the cheek, and sit down behind him. The middle aged man behind me gets on, looks at my dad, confused, and asks:)

Passenger: “Do we all have to do this to travel for free or can I just pay for my ticket?”

(My dad and I burst out laughing and explained that I was in fact his daughter, but the look on his face was just priceless. Still makes me giggle years later.)

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A Fuelish Thing To Do

, , , | Right | May 27, 2013

(It’s a particularly cold evening. I’m chatting with a regular while filling his tank.)

Regular: “It’s so cold today; you know what you should do?”

Me: “What?”

Regular: “You should take a barrel, put it in the middle of the pumps, fill it with wood, then light it up to warm the place.”

Me: “…I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Regular: “Why not?”

Me: “Because I don’t want to die.”

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Make A Pesto Oneself

, , , , | Right | April 5, 2010

(I am a 17-year-old-girl working at a pizzeria. A tourist who looks about forty approaches me, looking angry.)

Tourist: “How dare you sell this food in an Italian restaurant!”

Me: “Sir, I’m not entirely sure what you mean.”

Tourist: “This food! Don’t you know that pizza and ice cream are American? How dare you take credit for what we have done! This is ridiculous! I am going to sue you!”

Me: “Sir, that really isn’t necessary. I–”

Tourist: “Don’t you take that tone with me! Stop sounding all professional! It’s annoying!”

Me: “Sorry, sir, you-”

Tourist: “Shut up! This food is American! How dare you be so racist against Americans!

Me: “Sir, I am originally American, so why would I–”

Tourist: “This food is American!”

Me: “Sir, I–”

Tourist: “American!”

Me: “Ask anyone anywhere. Look it up on the Internet, even. I assure you that all this food is Italian.”

Tourist: “The customer is always right!” *storms off*

(I continue to serve customers. 25 minutes later he comes in again.)

Tourist: “Yeah, so I looked it up. Turns out it was Italian. Uh, so, can I have your number?”

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