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A Self Cuddle Befuddle

, , , | Romantic | February 12, 2014

(My boyfriend is currently in university and studying for his exams. I’m sitting on the sofa, a little bored.)

Me: “You know what I wish? I wish we could cuddle all day long.”

Boyfriend: “Aw, I wish we could, too. But you know I have to finish studying first.”

Me: “I’ll cuddle with myself then. Hi, [My Name]. How are you? You look so pretty today! Oh, [My Name], thank you! You deserve some kisses!” *smooch, smooch* “Do you want some cuddles?” *starts patting my head and hugging myself* “I love you so much, [My Name]. Maybe we could—”

Boyfriend: “STOP IT!”


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Un-American Idiots

, , , , | Right | August 17, 2013

(I work at a pretty popular furniture store. A girl and her friend come in. After looking around for a bit and giggling to themselves, the girls come up to me.)

Girl #1: “Hi. Yeah… we… like… we wanted to know… do you guys sell band members here?”

Me: “Sorry, what?”

Girl #1: “Yeah! Band members! Like, you know, people who are in bands and play music?”

Me: “Oh! No, we don’t really sell band posters, sorry.”

Girl #1: “No! Not posters! We want band members!”

Me: “What? You mean you want me to sell you the actual band members? As in the actual people who play in the band?”

Both Girls: “Yeah!”

Me: “I’m sorry… I don’t think we have any in stock, and we’re probably not going to get some anytime soon. Actually, I think no store will have what you’re looking for, girls.”

Girl #1: “Aw, really?”

Girl #2: “Come on… Are you sure? Not even clones?”

Me: “Yeah, I think the most you will find will be posters and band merchandise. With pictures of them, maybe, but not the actual people. I’m very sorry.”

Both Girls: “Aw… it’s okay; sorry for bothering you.”

(As they walk away, I overhear them talking.)

Girl #2: “Aw, I really wanted a Billie Joe Armstrong.”

Girl #1: “Yeah… I guess our best bet is asking Adrienne if she’s willing to share.”

Girl #2: “Yep, we should do it. I mean, it’s like… It’s not like I want to marry him or something. I just want to be his friend, and cuddle with him, and pet his hair. Don’t forget about petting his hair.”

Girl #1: “Same here! Hmm, you know what this means, right?”

Girl #2: “Yeah. Let’s ask her on both Twitter and Instagram until she finally answers.”

(My manager has heard everything and comes over to me laughing. We’re both huge Green Day fans.)

Manager: “Oh, God… Were they… really?

Me: “Yeah.”

(My manager starts singing to the tune of the chorus of the song “Stray Heart”.)

Manager: “Everything that they want, they want from him, but they just can’t have him. Everything that they need, they need from therapy, but they won’t realize it.”


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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.”

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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I Scream For Pizza

, , , | Right | December 14, 2009

(While working at a gelato shop in Rome, a tourist approaches me.)

Customer: “Excuse me, miss! I’d like a pizza!”

Me: “We don’t sell pizza here. This is a gelato shop.”

Customer: “What are you talking about? This is Italy! Don’t you have pizza in Italy?”

Me: “Yes, we have pizza in Italy, but this is not a pizzeria, so we don’t sell pizza. There are pizzerias, though, if you look.”

Customer: “So this is Italy?”

Me: “Correct.”

Customer: “And this is a restaurant.”

Me: “Sort of, though we only sell the ice cream.”

Customer: “But this is ITALY.”

(After a few minutes of getting nowhere, my coworker attempts to help.)

Coworker: *jokingly* “Ma’am, if you want pizza, I can get you some for 100 euros.”

(100 euros is about $150 USD. Without hesitation, the customer pulls out two 50s and hands them to my coworker.)

Coworker: *hands the tourist the money back* “It’s okay, ma’am. Let me direct you to a nearby pizzeria…”


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