Won’t Be Ringing Him Up

, , , , , , , | Romantic | March 25, 2019

I worked in a jewelry shop and it was close to Valentine’s Day. A lot of men came in to buy some jewelry for the occasion, and we had some strange requests, but there’s one man that I’ll never forget.

He came in and wanted to see some diamond rings to give to “the love of his life.” I didn’t think too much of it since he was wearing Armani clothes and had a Rolex watch and some expensive rings on his fingers. He finally decided on one ring, but when I told him that that would cost 1250 Euros, he was shocked and wanted to see some cheaper rings.

So, I presented him some rings in the 500-Euro range. No, too expensive, but he wanted the best for the love of his life. Okay, some rings in the 250-Euro range? No, too expensive for the love of his life. 100 Euros? No, too expensive. Twenty minutes later, he still couldn’t decide on some cheap rings for the love of his life.

Finally, a customer next in line who saw it all happen came up with this: “Hey, Buster, why don’t you head to [Big DIY Store] and buy a copper curtain ring? The last time I was there, they were 25 cents each. Should be just about right for the love of your life. Or you could buy her an angle grinder; they’re on sale now.”

While I saw some customers grin and smirk, other customers in the shop laughed out loud. The rich guy turned red and sneaked out of the store. Of course, I gave the customer who spoke up a discount for chasing that cheapskate out of the store.

I guess you only become rich by not spending any money. Not even on “the love of your life.”

Putting The Ouch Into Couch

, , , , , | Friendly | March 24, 2019

(It’s the week before spring break. I have a ton of work due over the next few days and I am stressing quite a bit. It’s Tuesday night, around 1:30 am, and one of my three roommates leaves for twenty minutes and comes back into the dorm with a guy in tow. I’m sitting on the couch writing a paper and eating M&Ms out of a large jug my mother bought me as a random gift a few weeks ago.)

Guy: *looks at the candy, then back up at me* “It’s like that, huh?”

(I have no idea what he means, but I shrug and say sure. This isn’t the first time she’s brought a random dude in at ungodly hours and I don’t have time to have a conversation. As the evening goes on, it’s apparent that he doesn’t plan on leaving for the night. Come 3:30, he’s still in the room I share with my roommate — we live in a two-bedroom, apartment-style dorm, two girls to each room — and they’re LOUD, laughing, making noises and watching TV. There is no way I am going to be able to sleep with a random dude in my room and with so much noise, but I don’t feel like starting a fight at 3:00 am, so I quietly grab a pillow and blanket from my bed and sleep on the couch. The guy doesn’t leave until almost 6:00 am on Wednesday morning. My roommate all but ignores me until 11:00 pm the next day, but has no problem loudly complaining to another roommate about my behavior last night. I wasn’t rude when retrieving the pillow and blanket, and I never once complained about them, so I am confused as to why I am the bad guy. I shrug it off. I want to say something, but being in an active fight with my roommate sounds more like an annoyance than a solution so I ignore her.)

Roommate: *icily and not making eye contact* “[Guy] apologizes that you felt you had to sleep on the couch last night.” *emphasis on “apologizes”*

(She then rolled over to play on her phone, and the silence between us was deafening. I had somehow offended her by quietly retreating to the couch to sleep, but the fact that she brought a guy in, without warning, from 2:00 to 6:00 am on Wednesday morning was fine? I think I’m going to put in for a room change.)

I’ll Make You Sorry You Asked

, , , , | Working | March 22, 2019

(My boss at this time is a very arrogant individual; he is very full of himself and likes to pretend that the world snaps to attention and answers his every whim. Another thing to note is that all of the supervisors and quality staff are required to have a radio, and we are not allowed to turn them off while on the clock.)

Boss: “[My Name], this is [Boss].”

Me: “Go for [My Name].”

Boss: “Where are you right now?”

(Not wanting to give the whole plant a mental picture they can’t unsee…)

Me: “Indisposed. I can meet in five minutes; just tell me where.”

Boss: “But where are you right now?”

Me: “Not currently available.”

Boss: *furious and demanding* “[My Name], tell me where you are, and what you are doing, right now.”

(Okay, Boss, you asked for it…)

Me: “I am currently in the fourth stall from the door in the east bathroom, sitting on the toilet and feeling much better.”

(There is a long pause on the other end of the line. I am well aware that everyone with a radio has heard our conversation.)

Boss: *much more quietly* “When you are finished, please see me in my office.”

Me: “Of course. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

(I don’t remember what was so important, but it wasn’t anything that couldn’t have waited five minutes. But he never pressed me over the radio again.)

Prices That Break The Fabric Of Reality

, , , , | Working | March 21, 2019

(I’ve sewn a lot of my own things most of my life, but find that many people do not think that homemade items have any value. I’ve made the mistake of using a bag I’ve just made when I go to work one day.)

Coworker #1: “Oh, my God! I love your bag; where did you get it from?”

Me: “I made it myself.”

Coworker #1: “You have to make one for me, too.”

Coworker #2: “Me, too! I want one, too. Can you bring them in next week?”

Me: “No, I’ve got another to finish first for my mother’s birthday and won’t have time to make any more just yet.”

(They keep hounding me every time I see them, insisting that I make an identical bag for each. I keep trying to tell them I can’t do it for a while. Then, one day, I am about to leave work and while I’m getting my bag from my locker, one of them comes into the staff room.)

Coworker #1: “Oh, [My Name], you don’t need to worry about the bag now. We just saw one that a customer made and she said she could make us one each.”

(A few moments later [Coworker #2] comes into the room.)

Coworker #2: “Did you know that [Customer] wants us to pay $20 each for the bags?”

Coworker #1: “What? $20 for a homemade bag? Who is she kidding? Just go and tell her we don’t want them.”

Me: “Uh, how much did you expect to pay me?”

Coworker #1: “Why? What would you charge?”

Me: “I hadn’t worked it out yet but—“ *pointing to the main fabric* “—this fabric cost me $22 a metre.”

Coworker #2: “What? We thought you could do it for $10.”

(We worked in a fabric store; they knew how much fabrics cost and that bags like that take a few hours to make.)

The Only Tonic I Need Goes With Gin

, , , , , | Related | March 21, 2019

(My elderly aunt still lives like it is the 1940s or 1950s. She doesn’t understand how the world today operates and still thinks that what worked then works now. My younger sister just announced that she is pregnant with her second child, and the following exchange occurs when I tell my aunt why I don’t have children.)

Aunt: “What’s the matter with you? Why can’t you have a baby? Your sister is five years younger than you and is pregnant with her second already!”

Me: “[Aunt], you know that [Husband] had damage to his male parts while he was deployed to Afghanistan. The VA says that he is sterile.”

Aunt: “You—“ *referring to me* “—should take two tablespoons of Mrs. Tinsley’s Tonic every night before bedtime. My mother said that if you take two tablespoons of Mrs. Tinsley’s Tonic every night before bedtime, you are guaranteed to get pregnant!”

Me: “Uh, the problem is with [Husband], not me…”

Aunt: “But my mother said that Mrs. Tinsley’s Tonic is a miracle cure! She used to give it to all the women in our neighborhood to get them pregnant when they had trouble conceiving! And guess what? They all did!”

Me: “[Aunt], did you know that no one takes tonics anymore?”

Aunt: “Go to Walmart’s!” *she insists on calling Walmart, “Walmart’s”* “They have to have it! I’m sure all of your friends used Mrs. Tinsley’s Tonic to conceive their babies! Everyone takes tonics!”

Me: “Uh, no one uses tonics anymore. Vitamins and herbal supplements, yes, but tonics, no. If Mrs. Tinsley’s Tonic is such a miracle cure when was the last time you bought it?”

Aunt: “I think that I last bought it in 1956 when I conceived your cousin.”

Me: “You know that was over sixty years ago?

(My aunt just kind of froze up and finally dropped the conversation.)

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