Bouncing Somewhere Else

, , , , | Working | November 16, 2017

(I’m on holiday in New York and have gone to a nightclub for a few drinks with some friends. I’m from the UK. The club we choose has a sign specifically stating that foreign forms of ID are accepted.)

Bouncer #1: “ID.”

(I hand it over.)

Bouncer #1: “This is fake.”

Me: “How?”

Bouncer #1: “The UK doesn’t have driver’s licenses.”

Me: “I’m pretty sure they do.”

(Another bouncer comes over and takes my ID and moves it underneath the light overhead.)

Bouncer #2: “Looks genuine enough. She can come in.”

Bouncer #1: “No, she can’t.”

Bouncer #2: *sighs* “Why not?”

Bouncer #1: “We don’t let foreigners in.”

Bouncer #2: “Well, that sign says otherwise.” *to me* “Sorry about this; he’s new.”

Bouncer #1: *looking at my ID again* “She’s under 21.”

Bouncer #2: “December, 1989. She’s 26!”

([Bouncer #1] blushed and handed my ID back, then let me in. When the club was full he stood at the doors and glared at me the entire time. While I can’t help but commend [Bouncer #2] for his professionalism and experience, [Bouncer #1] ruined our night. We found another club and went there for the rest of our holiday.)

Uniformly Rude

, , , | Right | November 16, 2017

(I work at a grocery store, but today is my day off. I’m in a different town at a clothing store when a regular from my store comes up to me, fuming.)

Customer: “You’re not wearing your uniform!”

Me: “No, it’s actually my day off.”

Customer: “Why aren’t you wearing your uniform?! Do you work tonight?”

Me: “No, ma’am. It’s my day off; I only wear my uniform at work.”

Customer: “God! You’re so rude!”

Illustrating The Need For Quiet, Mathematically

, , , , , , , | Learning | November 16, 2017

(I’m in the common area of my dorm, attempting to get some homework done, as there isn’t enough space in my dorm room for this project. A pair of other students apparently have the same idea. Unfortunately, they are working on what appears to be accounting homework, and bickering over a problem, LOUDLY. I’m trying to concentrate on my own work, but they just keep going back and forth, and it’s distracting, as their volume only rises.)

Me: *finally fed up* “Oh, my God. Just… give me the problem you’re working on!”

Student #1: *snootily, after glancing at the large self-portrait I’m working on* “Um, you won’t understand the terms.”

Me: *ignoring the fact that they’ve been bickering so long I already do* “It’s just f****** math. I don’t need the terms; just give me the numbers.”

Student #2: “Um… it’s [figure #1] and [figure #2].”

Me: “Are you f****** kidding me? It’s [answer]. It’s frigging basic division! Now, can I please get back to work in peace?!”

(They both glare at me and flip to the back of their book, then immediately look sheepish.)

Student #1: “It… it is [answer].”

Student #2: *glancing at my homework* “So… Is that an elective, or…?”

Me: “No. I’m an illustration major.”

Student #2: *weakly* “Well, I guess you could always switch to accounting if you wanted.”

(Thankfully, after that, they were much quieter.)

Wines And Dines On Your Dimes

, , , , , , | Working | November 16, 2017

(My wife and I are having dinner at a restaurant. While we both order at the same time, my wife receives her food while I receive nothing. We continually call our waitress down to find out what is happening, and she insists it is being taken care of. Because I don’t want my wife to wait, I let her finish. After an hour and a half, our waitress comes with our bill.)

Waitress: “I hope you have enjoyed your meal.” *walking away*

Me: “Hold on.” *looking at the bill and seeing my order and a substantial tip* “Where is my order?”

Waitress: “Your order? Well, surely you’ve eaten it.”

Wife: “No, he hasn’t.”

Waitress: “I distinctly remember bringing it out to you. If you could just please pay the bill at the front, thank you.”

Me: “I’m sorry, no. Could I please see the manager?”

(The waitress brings the manager and I explain the situation.)

Manager: “Well, this is the most ridiculous scam I’ve ever heard. Do you seriously expect me to believe it?”

Me: “Does it look like I’ve eaten?” *gesturing to my side of the table, which has been left virtually untouched since it was laid out* “I haven’t even been given my wine!”

Manager: “Well, it certainly does. Please excuse me for a moment.”

(The manager goes into the kitchen and I hear a loud clattering of pans and someone screaming, “WHAT, AGAIN?” The door bursts open, and a large man storms up to me. I’m secretly praying for my life, as I’m expecting to him to send me to Hell, but as he approaches the table he turns and faces our waitress.)

Chef: “All right, what did you do with it?”

Waitress: *blushing* “I don’t know what you mean!”

Chef: “Really?” *sniffs at her mouth* “You stink of merlot.”

(That’s the wine I ordered. Our waitress covers her mouth while the chef walks to the waiting station and starts tearing it apart. He comes back with a plate of a partially-consumed meal.)

Chef: “Sir, could I please ask what you ordered?”

(I show him the receipt.)

Chef: *to the waitress* “I don’t know who you think you are, but this is unacceptable. You’re fired.”

Waitress: “YOU CAN’T FIRE ME! MY DADDY’S THE MANAGER!”

Chef: “Really? Well, let me introduce you to the owner: me. You–” *to another waiter* “–take this gentleman’s order again, and everything is free of charge. I’ll get ‘daddy’ to take her home.”

(Our entire meal was free, and although I didn’t eat in the restaurant, we were given it to go. The restaurant lost two staff that night: the manager and his daughter. We were offered free meals there in the future, but sadly, we moved out of the city a couple of months later and never ate there again. This was the first and last time something like this had ever happened to us.)

A Noteworthy Turnaround

, , , , , , , | Learning | November 16, 2017

(I’m 15 years old and a sophomore. Recently, I took a couple of days off school due to a nasty sinus infection. Before she drops me off, my mom gives me my doctor’s note and I head inside. A couple of hours later, I get called into the office of one of the three assistant principals.)

Assistant Principal: “So, [My Name], did you know we call the doctor’s office to verify sick notes?”

Me: “Um, I guess?”

Assistant Principal: “Since you have a clean record, you’ll only get one day of lunch detention if you confess.”

Me: “Huh? Confess to what?”

Assistant Principal: *gets a creepy smile on his face and calls for the receptionist* “You changed the dates on your note.”

Me: “What?! No I didn’t. I only got it from my mom when she dropped me off! I didn’t have time to do that.”

(The receptionist comes in and says the office only confirmed one day of my absence, not the three I needed. They go back and forth accusing me and telling me I’ll get a week’s lunch detention for lying. Finally, in tears, I take out my cell phone and get them to call my mom at work.)

Assistant Principal: “Hello, Mrs. [Last Name]. This is your daughter’s principal at [School]. She’s hysterical and wanted us to call you because the dates on her doctor’s note were changed. She says she didn’t do it, but…”

(There’s a long pause and his smile slowly fades away. He looks between me and the receptionist.)

Assistant Principal: “W-well, yes, ma’am. No, ma’am. Yes, ma’am, I will. But just for future reference, you can’t do th—”

(He pauses again and gives me back my phone.)

Assistant Principal: “So, your mother says she changed the note. Just tell her she can’t do that next time.”

(They got rid of the detention notice on my records and sent me on my way. I get having to punish kids who do mess up, but maybe don’t look like you’re enjoying it so much?)

Page 5/68First...34567...Last
« Previous
Next »