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Their Grandfather Would Be Ashamed

, , , , , | Legal | CREDIT: Fakress | December 4, 2022

I’m very young and have just started my career as a pharmacist.

Two sixteen-year-olds come into the pharmacy to pick up [painkiller] for their grandfather. They give me all the numbers, even their own birthdates, etc. When the script comes up on my screen, it says, “DECEASED,” in big bold letters.

I just start laughing.

Me: “But he’s dead?!”

And suddenly, they were in a hurry to leave. Should have called the cops, I guess.

The “Tired” Jokes Practically Write Themselves

, , , , , , | Right | December 4, 2022

My only retail job was at a big box department store. This was the most fearful night of the year: Black Friday. There was a policy that if someone said an item was on sale and the price difference was less than $5, we gave them the discount.

One customer came through my line with a small tire. I didn’t even know we had those. It rang up as $54.

Customer: “It’s only supposed to be $5!”

She quickly showed me a photo of an empty display with a $5 tag. I called a floor person, who came up, and I explained. He heard “$5” and started to give the customer $5 off.

Me: “No, she’s saying this $54 item is $5.”

He froze for a moment. Then, he called a coworker on his radio and quickly reported back.

Floor Employee: “Not on sale.”

The customer didn’t take the tire and continued to complain. The floor person later apologized.

Cleo Versus The Technician

, , , , , | Related | December 4, 2022

My mom was a big foodie and loved cooking for people. Barbecues were always a huge thing with my family, and my mom loved to try new recipes. She also never made a fuss if anyone asked for accommodations. She was always willing to make adjustments so everyone could have at least something they could enjoy, and everyone was welcome at her table.

Once, my nephew had a girlfriend who was… a bit strange. Let’s call her Cleo.

It wasn’t so much that she was inherently a bad person, but her thought processes were sometimes hard to follow, and she had a tendency to hog conversations and make them all about her.

Cleo also followed all kinds of trends when she thought it was fancy. If social media hyped depression, she was all depressed and proclaimed that happily to everyone, totally oblivious to the fact that several of my family members battled with diagnosed depression and that my mom and I had to spend significant time in mental hospitals for depression.

When one of Cleo’s favorite actors was advocating for women’s rights, she became a ferocious women’s rights activist, blaming all women around her for not caring enough and buying into the “paternal narrative” — whatever that was supposed to mean. She accused them of wanting all women to be stay-at-home moms, completely disregarding that my family is mostly blue-collar and all the women have been workers all their lives. No one, from my great-grandmother to me today, has ever been a stay-at-home mom.

When social media claimed pescatarians were en vogue, Cleo claimed to be a pescatarian — no matter that she didn’t eat fish at all. She proclaimed that it meant eating only chicken.

At the time that this story happened, Cleo got it into her head that she was a vegan. And no, being vegan was not a problem for my family, nor would it have been a problem on this special day if Cleo really was a vegan. The problem was that she wasn’t a vegan; she just fancied herself being one.

We had a barbecue planned, and my whole family was there. I also brought my friend and roomie who was a vegetarian. My mom created a group chat on a messenger app and asked [Friend] and Cleo what they would like to eat. When Cleo answered that she didn’t know what she could ask for, my mom offered several options for them to choose from. [Friend] said, to make it easier for my mom, she would also eat the vegan option Cleo chose, knowing from my tales that Cleo was a very picky eater.

Cleo then wrote that some veggie shashlik and hummus would be nice, so my mom made that. She told both of them specifically what she planned to put in the shashlik. She also made several salads and a chimichanga for dips along with them, as well as vegan mayonnaise, the promised hummus, and several other vegan-friendly dips to choose from, and foil-baked potatoes. Cleo knew exactly what would be there for her to eat and happily agreed with everything, enthusiastically writing back how much she would enjoy eating all that. Despite being asked repeatedly if she would like anything else, she always answered everything was fine.

Knowing how nitpicky Cleo was, my nephew brought a separate grill to put the veggie options on so they wouldn’t touch the meat. This was solely for her since [Friend] doesn’t really care much about all this; she’s the type who eats what’s available as long as it is vegetarian-friendly. She’s also a bit picky, but when push comes to shove, she eats bread and some salad and is happy as a clam; she doesn’t make her own peckishness into other people’s problems.

The day came, and everything was finished. Madam Cleo walked over to the vegan dishes, scrunched her nose, and proclaimed:

Cleo: “I can’t eat all this; it’s not really vegan.”

After pushing a bit, she proclaimed:

Cleo: “I don’t think this will taste good, either; it looks strange.”

Then, she marched to the kitchen and prepared herself some toast with butter! Yes, real butter,  which was totally not vegan. She could not eat the butter right there at the table — no, that was not vegan — but it had to be the new piece of butter from the fridge and the store-bought toast, because — and this is a verbal citation — “homemade bread is NEVER vegan!”

Cleo then proceeded to complain that no one had asked her for her opinion before, although she had been engaging in a messenger group generated just exactly for that and not telling anyone anything and agreeing with everything for a whole week!

When [Friend] very gently inquired why she didn’t say anything during the chats, Cleo claimed that she felt overwhelmed by my mom’s suggestions and didn’t dare to voice her concerns after my mom had “decided” what she should eat.

At this point, my mom was fuming, so I decided to keep Cleo away for the rest of the evening and engage her in talk so my mom and the rest of the family would not have to deal with her silly and self-centered nonsense.

[Friend] stayed with me because she knew me and found my way of dealing with such situations amusing.

So, we engaged in talk. I prompted Cleo to tell me about herself, and she willingly obliged.

All in all, I kept her occupied for several hours, never letting her feel bad, and constantly keeping her talking. [Friend] quietly sat next to me, dipping bits of her freshly made and completely vegan baguette in fresh olive oil and salt, smiling and nodding to Cleo who explained to her how that was not vegan.

My family members dipped in and out of the conversation, looking at me with disbelief and shaking their heads, but gracefully not saying anything to aggravate her.

When it was time to say goodbye, Cleo beamed at me and proclaimed loudly:

Cleo: “Thank you for the nice evening! It was a joy talking with you! It’s really nice to meet someone who’s open to new knowledge.”

Then, she left her stage.

My sister approached me.

Sister: “I listened to part of that conversation. How the h*** did you stand that? How could you be so calm? I only listened to bits here and there, but I wanted to strangle her halfway through.”

[Friend] chuckled and answered before I could.

Friend: “Don’t you remember what [My Name] does for a living? She works from home, so I listen to her when she works. Cleo might think she got a nice conversation, but I know what she really got: the world’s longest technician service call! [My Name] pretended it was a work call; she even used her script to prompt her in between. Cleo didn’t know it, but she called her Internet provider today and got troubleshooting. What you heard was her giving her technician a top rating. I just waited all the time for [My Name] to tell her to restart her router.”

And what could I say? She was right; that’s exactly what I did. I never thought that eight years as a tier-three service technician working escalations at a call center for a service provider would pay out this way. But I guess if you’re able to get a non-cooperative idiot to follow your instructions to get his equipment to run properly without shouting at him for his stupidity, keeping a delusional wannabe vegan with a mission to tell everyone their opinion away from your mom is a piece of cake.

The story has a happy ending; my nephew ditched her later. He’s now dating another girl. She’s a vegan for real. She really enjoys barbecues, and guess what? She’s always happy with the food because she helps with preparations and cooks her preferred food herself.

They’re Called Bouncers Because When You’re Thrown Out, You Land With A Bounce

, , , , , | Right | December 3, 2022

Back in the day, Portuguese nightclubs had an age limit of sixteen. However, I had seen my friends go out since we were all thirteen, so I assumed this one nightclub let younger people in.

This is my first time ever on a night out to a club. I am a very young-looking fifteen-year-old, to the point where people often think I’m actually a year or two younger. I am also gawky, nerdy, and extremely innocent and naive about most aspects of social life, including nightclub protocol.

I am at the end of the queue behind all but one of my friends. As they step up to the bouncer, each of them lies about their age, adding a year. For once, my brain is too slow on the uptake, though, and when my turn comes, I blurt out my real age. Predictably, I get turned away. This is where the fun starts.

Me: “Um… it’s actually my birthday today!”

Lady Bouncer: “Oh, yeah? Let me see your ID.”

Knowing the ID would show nothing of the sort, I relent and turn away, dejected. As I am Charlie-Brown-walking out of there, the only member of our party who was behind me — incidentally, also the only one actually old enough to legally go in — leans over with a suggestion.

Friend: “Wait until their back is turned and run in before they can see you.”

I mulled this over and decided it was worth a shot. I waited until neither bouncer was looking, got a running start, dashed in, glimpsed the inside of the club for one glorious second…

…and then was unceremoniously dumped back outside by the bouncers, who of course DID see me trying to sneak past.

Anyway, at that point, I had no choice but to go home in humiliation. And of course, the whole school heard about it the following day.

I ended up going back to that club about a year later, once I was of legal age, only to find I’m not really a clubbing type of person anyway.

Pump The Brakes On This Establishment

, , , , , | Working | December 2, 2022

My sister’s car needed new brakes as they were making that “crunching in snow” sound when applied. It just so happens that the local tire store had a coupon for a brake job. [Sister] called me for advice as they said she needed her rotors turned. I agreed. [Sister] paid the bill and retrieved her car.

Within a few weeks, the brakes were making the same noise. Obviously, the rotors were never turned and tore up the new pads quickly.

I went down to the tire store.

Me: “I want you to give my sister her money back for the brake job.”

Clerk: “I can’t do that because we did the service she was billed for.”

Me: “I’m an accountant. The mechanic shop across the street is my client. That shop is the only one in town that has the equipment to turn rotors. The office manager records the make and model of every car that they turn rotors on. I checked, and she has no record of my sister’s car coming into their shop, ever. Now, send her the money she paid you for the job you never did and charged her for.”

My sister got a check a few days later. I found out at a local coffee shop that they had done that to several people. Needless to say, they were out of business not too long after.