Talk Again And This Toddler Will Invoke Ragnarok

, , , , , , | Friendly | December 29, 2017

(It’s the week “Thor: Ragnarok” comes out. It’s a weekday afternoon, so far less crowded than other days, but there are still some people in the IMAX, including a mother with her toddler-aged son sitting in the row in front of us. He may be a little older, but he’s definitely not school-aged yet. A family including a son of about seven or eight comes in just before the movie starts, and they sit right next to us. Not long after the movie starts, the boy starts talking nonstop, and this continues for several minutes with no action from the parents. Finally, at a particularly quiet part of the movie, the toddler turns around.)

Toddler: “You’re not supposed to talk during a movie. You might bother other people.”

(He turns back around in his seat.)

Toddler: “Sorry, Mommy. I talked. I won’t do it again.”

(Never have I seen two parents look so ashamed, as the dad quickly grabbed his son and rushed him out. Though, who can blame them, after having their school-aged child be lectured on manners by a little boy? The dad and son soon returned to the theater, where the kid didn’t talk again the whole movie, other than asking to go to the bathroom. I really hope the little boy’s mother was proud, because that’s some good parenting in action!)

Second Act Surprise!

, , , , , , | Working | December 29, 2017

(I am hired to do some catering work in a congress centre. Today, it’s training day for all the new temps. Lots of new workers are waiting, in uniform, to be taken to the hall for the training. A coworker and I notice a man in a manager’s uniform, walking around with a moody face, slouched appearance, and messy clothing.)

Coworker #1: *quietly, to me* “Either that gentleman had to start really early, or he had a bad night’s sleep.”

(Finally, we get a message that someone will take us to the hall. The name could be male or female, so I assume they mean the young lady opening the door for us. We go into the meeting hall and get seated. Then, the first person to talk to us is the sloppy, moody man. He talks in a very unenthusiastic way.)

Grouch: “Hi, my name is [Name]. I’m a floor manager, and I have been working here for 25 years already. Now, you’ve got your uniforms. [Congress Centre] put lots of money in those, so be careful with them, okay? It’s, in fact, very simple: you are getting put on your location by me and then you’ll just do as I tell you. If there’s ever a problem, don’t try and solve it; come to me, because after all these years, I know you’ll just create chaos if you don’t. Finally, don’t come up with ideas. After 25 years, I heard all of them already and I’ve got more to do than just listen to stuff I already heard before.”

(The grouch gets seated. During his speech, I notice his shirt isn’t tucked into his trousers and his hand is in his pocket, which, in the Netherlands, is considered a very rude and sloppy thing when giving a speech or presentation. After the man gets seated, a young lady takes over, and starts doing a presentation which is much better and much more inspiring. The grouch seems to be more interested in his phone, although he might be checking important messages. At one point, the lady asks him a question.)

Young Lady: “I’ll be starting the video now, okay?”

Grouch: *looking up from his phone* “Hmm? Sorry?”

Young Lady: “Is it okay to start the video?”

Grouch: “Oh, yeah, fine.”

(This continues for a while. I’ve had different jobs over the years, and although I hate people like this, their existence doesn’t even surprise me anymore. But at some point, the lady starts addressing his behaviour.)

Young Lady: “[Grouch], do you have anything to say?”

Grouch: “Hmm? No, what do you mean?”

Young Lady: “Well, I don’t really like your attitude. Maybe we should pay some attention to it.”

Grouch: “Oh? What’s wrong with my attitude then?”

(He doesn’t sound angry yet, but I know people like this. An argument will break out within minutes, not that the guy doesn’t deserve it.)

Young Lady: “Well, you’re not paying attention, and you’re looking at your phone all the time.”

Coworker #2: “To be honest, you don’t seem very enthusiastic.”

Grouch: “I don’t?”

Coworker #3: “Yes; your appearance makes me wonder whether you feel sick or something.”

Coworker #4: “Yes, I must admit, it’s even a bit unreal…”

(Then the grouch surprises me.)

Grouch: *standing up, putting his clothing right* “Okay, you’re right. Fair enough. I’ll do my introduction again. Hello everyone, my name is [Name], and I’m an actor, here to assist with the training.”

(And to be honest, I expected everything but that! The workplace turned out to be fine, by the way.)

They’re Already A Sore Loser

, , , , , , , | Friendly | December 29, 2017

(This occurs when I am in college. I enter my dorm and I am walking to my room when I pass one of my housemates. Note that I am wearing a t-shirt with the sentence, “How about a nice game of chess?” on it, a reference to the movie “WarGames.”)

Housemate: “Hey, I didn’t know you played chess!”

Me: “What?” *looks down at my shirt* “Oh, no. It’s a movie reference. You ever seen WarGames?”

Housemate: “No.”

Me: “Oh. Well, uh, okay. See ya.”

Housemate: “So, do you want to play chess with me?”

Me: “Nah, I don’t play chess. I’m terrible at it.”

Housemate: *suddenly becomes hostile* “Well, you know, you really shouldn’t be wearing that shirt if you don’t play chess! You’re giving people the wrong idea about you!” *walks into his room and slams the door*

Me: *weakly* “It’s… a movie reference?”

Will Need Therapy After Dealing With This

, , , | Working | December 29, 2017

(I take my second daughter to a recommended nurse practitioner for her well-child check-ups, since our insurance won’t cover our previous doctor any more. My daughter is slow about wanting to crawl or walk, but she is making progress otherwise and is healthy, so I never worry about it, since she is still within the realm of “normal” milestone developments. Our nurse practitioner, however, doesn’t think so:)

Nurse Practitioner: *very worried* “Her feet seem… I’m not really sure how to describe it. Her ankles look… well, floppy.”

Me: “Erm… floppy?”

Nurse Practitioner: “Yes. Sorry, not sure exactly how to refer to it. Her feet flop down instead of staying straight up when she’s laying down. See? And the rolls on her thighs aren’t even. The creases should be symmetrical. There’s one here and two here, see? It might not be anything, but it could be a sign of something worse that might need therapy to correct. I want you to take her to a free pediatric orthopedic clinic coming up.”

(She then sees my panicked look, and tries to ease my worry, but still sounds like she’s worried herself.)

Nurse Practitioner: “Oh, I don’t mean to worry you. It’s just a precaution! But you do need to get it checked out just in case, so we can get started early.”

(A couple months later, I take my daughter to the clinic for the appointment. We wait over an hour to get in. When we finally see the doctor, he asks what’s wrong, and basically laughs at me when I tell him about her “floppy” ankles, and says his own daughter took forever to walk. We spend five minutes, tops, in his office while he checks her legs and ankles for muscle tone and flexibility, then sends us on our way. When we leave, I am FURIOUS that I wasted an hour and a half of my time for this, not to mention the couple of months I spent worrying about my daughter’s well-being, or if I was doing something wrong, and what it would cost if there was a serious problem. At the nine-month appointment, our NP asks me how it went. I tell her the doctor said it was nothing to worry about, that she’s just taking her sweet time.)

Nurse Practitioner: *in an unconvinced tone* “Well, if someone smarter than me says so, I guess she’s fine.”

(Later in the appointment, she asks if my daughter is taking steps or pulling herself up to stand. I tell her no, but it’s not because she can’t; it’s because she doesn’t have the interest to try.)

Nurse Practitioner: “Hmm. Well, if she’s not standing by herself and taking steps by her 12-month appointment, I’ll have to refer you to therapy for her.”

Me: *in disbelief* “Really? Oh, um, okay…”

(After the “floppy ankles,” I knew I wouldn’t put my kid through unnecessary therapy, so I started looking for a new doctor. Thankfully, a month later, my husband got a new job and new insurance, so I immediately called our old doctor to make an appointment. At the one-year appointment, my daughter still wasn’t remotely close to taking any steps and wasn’t interested in standing, so I was really nervous about what the doctor would say. I asked, but he said there was absolutely nothing wrong, and repeated what the clinic doctor said: she was just taking her time. He was shocked when I told him the NP had suggested therapy so early on. It’s been a year now since that “floppy feet” appointment, and my daughter is walking and climbing like any other two year old, no therapy needed!)

His Handicap Is A Lack Of Decency

, , , , , , | Right | December 29, 2017

(We share a parking lot with a restaurant with a lot of regulars. One has decided to be the self-appointed handicap spot judge. He will sit at the outside tables yelling whenever he thinks someone is parking in them inappropriately. We have received a ton of complaints about him, but mall security hasn’t caught him in the act yet, so he is still allowed on the premises. I’m grabbing lunch from the restaurant and see him outside, so I text security to come and keep an eye on him. Not long afterwards a car pulls into a handicap spot displaying proper tags. A young woman gets out of the driver’s seat.)

Regular: “Hey! What the f*** is your handicap? That you need a latte? B****! I’m talking to you! You can walk just fine! You’re taking that spot from someone who needs it! Let me guess: you got that tag on your knees in front of the doctor! Hey! Don’t ignore me!”

(The woman has completely ignored the rant, heading to the back of the car and pulling something out of the trunk. I’ve gotten video of the regular and texted it to security, who says he is on his way ASAP. By this point I’ve realized what the woman is getting out of the trunk: a walker. Next, she opens the back passenger door and helps out a small, extremely elderly woman. The regular hasn’t stopped his insults. The second the elderly woman gets her hands on the walker, she starts towards the regular. She stops in front of him, pulls off her hat, and starts to hit him over the head with it, furious.)

Elderly Woman: “You don’t call my granddaughter a b****! What is wrong with you?! Who raised you?!”

(The regular reels back, shocked, and security walks up to see the vengeful grandmother’s anger.)

Regular: “Make her stop!”

Security: “Ma’am, please stop. Sir, you’re officially banned from mall property for harassing other customers.”

Regular: “Harassing?! They’re the ones cheating the system. She—” *gesturing at the granddaughter* “—doesn’t need a handicap spot.”

Security: “No, but she—” *gesturing to the grandmother, who has sat down, exhausted from her exertion* “—probably does. Anyway, it’s none of your business. Ma’am, are you all right?”

Grandmother: “I’m 92 years old, and it’s been too long since I put an a**hole in his place. I’m fine!”

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