Professor Omnomnom

, , , , , | Learning | September 12, 2017

(I’m a TA and PhD student. The undergrads are taking summer classes, and most them are new and confused. I’m hurrying to class, and eating a burrito at the same time. Just as I stuff the last of the burrito into my mouth, a lost-looking student stops me.)

Student: “Excuse me, Professor… uh…”

(I look down and notice that my ID card has flipped around. I try to tell him I’m not a professor, but with my mouth full…)

Me: “Mnahprofshr.”

Student: “Oh! I’m looking for Professor Smith. Sorry to bother you, Professor Naprofsher!”

(I tried to correct him, but he escaped while I was laughing and choking on burrito.)

Will Make It Your Pet Project

, , , | Working | September 11, 2017

(My grandfather has just died, and my aunt is calling up her synagogue to see about putting a death notice in the newsletter. A lady who works in the office answers the phone.)

Aunt: “Hi, my dad just passed away, and I’m wondering, do I need to do anything to get a death notice in the temple newsletter, or will it happen automatically?”

Office Lady: *confused* “Hold on, let me check.”

(The office lady puts my aunt on hold and comes back a few minutes later.)

Office Lady: “I’m sorry; we don’t normally print death announcements for pets.”

Aunt: “EXCUSE ME?”

Office Lady: “You said your dog died, right?”

Aunt: “No, I said my dad died.”

Office Lady: “Oh, I am so sorry! Not to worry; we’ll print the notice automatically. You don’t need to do anything. And again, I’m very sorry about the mix-up!”

Aunt: “That’s okay; I needed a laugh right now.”

The Definition Is Fluid

, , , , , , , | Romantic | September 10, 2017

(I have made some new friends, and I am discussing them with my boyfriend.)

Me: “…and then there’s [Friend’s Name], but they usually go by [Gender-Neutral Name].”

Boyfriend: “Because she’s a tomboy?”

Me: “Not really. They described themselves as gender-fluid.”

Boyfriend: “…”

Me: “You know? Someone who identifies as being either gender?”

Boyfriend: *look of realisation” “Oh! That’s what that means!”

Me: “What did you think it meant?”

Boyfriend: “I don’t want to say.”

Me: “You thought it was an actual fluid didn’t you?”

Boyfriend: “…maybe.”

Me: *jokingly* “And what did this magical fluid do? Make you change genders?”

Boyfriend: “…”

Me: “Seriously!?”

Boyfriend: “There’s medical breakthroughs every day!”

Me: “I’m pretty sure they’re focusing more on curing cancer than making you a drink to give you a vagina!”

Peppered With Translation Errors

, , , | Right | September 8, 2017

(We’ve just got in from our flight, and all we want to do is crash. Unfortunately, we’re also hungry. I look up a pizza place just down the street.)

Me: *on the phone* “Hallo. Können wir bitte ein Pizza haben?” *Hello. Can we please have a pizza?*

Pizza Man: *rapidly talks German but I catch the words, “Which kind?”*

Me: “Haben Sie Peperoni Pizza?” *Do you have pepperoni?*

Pizza Man: “Ja. Wie groß?” *Yes. How big?*

(The rest of the order goes okay, and I basically understand everything he says. When the pizza comes, however, it is not pepperoni. It has onions and peppers, and looks nothing like pepperoni pizza! I try talking to the guy, but we can’t seem to understand each other.)

Me: *thinking* “I’ll accept the pizza; it shouldn’t be that bad.”

(My mouth is on fire the rest of the night. I call my German mother to ask why this happened. She laughs at me for a solid minute.)

Mum: “I did the same thing when I was 13! I had just finished my stay in America, and I missed the pizza there. I asked the waitress for a pepperoni pizza. She was like, ‘Are you sure?’ She was so insistent, but I really wanted that pizza.”

Me: “So, you got a pepper pizza?”

Mum: “Yup! It was so spicy! You want salami pizza, dear. It’s a little saltier and less spicy than pepperoni, but it’s basically the same thing.”

Me: “Thank you so much!”

(I eventually learned to love German pizza, especially curry pizza, but I’ll never forget that first one!)

This Instrument Blows

, , , , , , | Friendly | September 8, 2017

(In the early days at my new university, I rebound hard into a relationship with a terrible person. I am an emotional wreck for a laundry list of reasons going into it, and am likely going through a bout of real depression, which she makes considerably worse. She belittles me, yells at me, and mocks me frequently. About halfway through our short relationship, I am sitting in her living room having a conversation with her and her roommate.)

Me: “I think it would be awesome to have the ability to just pick up any instrument in the world and know how to play it well. Especially the stranger ones.”

Her: “Oh, yeah? Do you know how to play the skin flute?”

(As stated before, I am not in a good emotional [and therefore mental] state, and when she says, “skin flute,” my brain produces an image of a PAN FLUTE and I accept it. I respond accordingly.)

Me: “No, I don’t, but that would really be cool to learn. I’ve seen some people do some neat things with those.”

Her: *whips a shocked look over at her roommate, who returns it*

(I am confused as to why they would look so shocked by me happily admitting that I’d like to know how to play [what I think is] a pan flute, but the subject changes and life continues… until weeks later when I finally end that mistake of a relationship and begin the work of repairing my life. A couple weeks after the breakup, I have some memories cross my mind, including that exchange. It is then that my brain finally decides it’s time to appropriately remember what a “skin flute” is.)

Me: *alone* “…HEY!”

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