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If I’m A Felon, Then You Can Be One, Too!

, , , , | Right | November 21, 2022

I work at a gun store. A customer comes in with his girlfriend to look at a few guns. I display each one and explain the features and the different calibers we have them available in.

Customer: “Okay, let’s do that one.”

The girlfriend then proceeds to ask for a gun form.

Me: “I can’t do that; it’s against the law.”

Customer: “But I’m not filling it out. I can’t buy a gun since I’m a felon. She’s going to buy it for me.”

Me:Exactly. I can’t do that; it’s against the law.”

Customer: “But she’s not a felon.”

Me: “But she’s buying the gun for you?”

Customer: “Yeah, I’m a felon; I can’t buy a gun.”

Me: “It’s against the law to buy a gun for someone who can’t purchase one.”

Customer: “Call your manager over!”

The customer then tells my manager that I’m racist, classist, and liberal and won’t sell them a gun. My manager is legally obligated to back me up, so this doesn’t work.

He then sends his girlfriend in on her own.

Girlfriend: “I’m here to buy [Gun] for myself.”

Yes, because you weren’t just in here trying to illegally buy a gun for a felon. I am that stupid. I explain that I can’t do this.

Girlfriend: “I don’t understand why this matters! Money is changing hands, so just sell me a gun, a**hole!”

They did not get their gun — at least not from me.

Good Luck Learning Responsibility Here!

, , , | Learning | November 21, 2022

During my early years of high school — grades seven to twelve in Australia — I have to take a woodworking class. It is okay, but my teacher is a flake who can’t accept the possibility he is ever at fault for anything.

Luckily for me and others in my class, my school has implemented a process where teachers sign off our school diary to acknowledge that they’ve received our assignments. For my woodworking class, two things affect our grades. One is a physical project due halfway through the year, and the other is an exam completed at the end of the year.

I finish my project on time, hand it in, and get my diary signed to say it was received. A few weeks later, my mother and I get called in for a meeting with my teacher and the head of that department.

Teacher: “I am very disappointed in [My Name]. She’s usually such a dedicated student, but she has failed to hand in a project this semester.”

Mother: “[My Name]! What have you got to say for yourself?!”

I am both confused and a little annoyed with my mother for believing I would ever slack off to such a degree.

Me: “I handed in my project weeks ago!”

Teacher: “Do not lie, [My Name]. I have no project from you.”

Head Teacher: “Now, [My Name], it’s important to accept responsibility when you make a mistake. Why didn’t you submit a project?”

Luckily for me, I have my school bag with me. Angrily, I go through it until I find my school diary. Flipping through it, I find the receipt for my project, clearly signed by the teacher accusing me of not handing it in, and slam that down on the table before repeating myself.

Me: “I handed in my project weeks ago.”

My mother leans in to study it before looking up expectantly at my teacher. He won’t touch the diary. Instead, the department head picks it up to study it. After a few moments, he seems satisfied it isn’t forged and turns to my teacher.

Head Teacher: “Well, Mr. [Teacher]?”

There’s an awkward silence, and we can practically hear crickets chirping. My mother breaks it with the coldest angry tone I’ve ever heard her use.

Mother: “I’d be very interested in knowing why you lied about my daughter’s project, Mr [Teacher].”

Teacher: “I… might have lost it.”

Mother: “You lost it. And you thought failing her was the solution?!”

At this point, the head teacher took charge of the situation, apologising profusely and promising that it wouldn’t affect my grade, etc. We eventually found out that he had lost half of the class’s assignments somehow! My meeting was meant to be the first of quite a few about students who supposedly hadn’t turned in projects. None of us lost marks over it in the end, but our projects were — as far as I know — never found.

Here comes the most frustrating part. While I’m guessing the teacher was reprimanded, he remained in my class (much to my mother’s dissatisfaction), and when we did our final exam, he lost those, too, and tried to fail the entire class!

After that, we all got a “class completed satisfactorily” without a specific grade attached and moved on. The good news is that this must have been the straw that broke the camel’s back; I didn’t see the teacher again.

Exposing Your Ignorance (And Exposing Everyone Else)

, , , , , , , , | Working | November 20, 2022

During the worldwide health crisis, my city set up one of the largest emergency homeless shelters in the country. Over the eighteen months that it operated, the services offered expanded from basic shelter, hygiene, and meals to include navigation services to help our clients connect with service providers and employment and housing programs.

As a member of this navigation team, all my teammates and I were required to test for the infamous contagious illness every week. If we tested positive, we were not permitted to work for at least two weeks. This story happened a few months before we shut down.

On the day after our mandatory testing, [Coworker #1] came in coughing and complaining about being tired because she couldn’t get any sleep. Our manager told her that, since she was having symptoms, she could go home and rest. She refused.

Shortly after we opened the doors to the office, I heard this exchange between her and another coworker. [Coworker #1] had her mask down to her chin, and [Coworker #2]’s nose was sticking out of their mask.

Coworker #1: “It’s all bulls***, anyway. I took one of those at-home tests a few days ago, and it gave me a false positive. There’s no way I have the [slang for illness].”

Coworker #2: “Right, those tests are so inaccurate, always giving false results. I don’t know why anyone is still testing.”

Coworker #1: “Because they get a whole bunch of money from every test. I bet they get more from positives, too — which is f***ed because, of course, then the people they’re lying about have to miss work.”

Coworker #3: “Wait… Did you say you tested positive?”

Coworker #1: “It was a false positive! It was probably because my son sneezed on it while I was waiting for the results. He had it last week.”

Coworker #3: “Wait, your son had it?! And he’s not quarantined?!”

[Coworker #1] coughed directly into her hand.

Coworker #1: “Relax, he’s not even sick. It’s not like you can get it from someone who’s not even sick.”

At this point, [Coworker #3] joined me in the far back of the office, where we wiped down and sanitized everything and kept carefully away from everyone else for the rest of the day.

The next morning our manager — who missed that exchange due to never being in the office when we were actually open — told [Coworker #1] that she had tested positive and needed to stay home.

[Coworker #3] and I worked in the shelter as a whole for over a year, and in the navigation office for almost six months. Neither of us ever tested positive, despite almost certainly being exposed almost every day.

Like A Spy Movie But Somehow Way More Satisfying

, , , , , | Working | November 18, 2022

I just moved and signed up for Internet. It’s a small town, so the only Internet provider was a small one-office company I’d never heard of before. I looked at their website using my smartphone and saw that they had a plan for $39.99 a month for two years, so I drove to the store to sign up. The only available associate was a man in his forties.

Associate: “The only option is $89.99 a month.”

Me: “I don’t understand. On your website, it said—”

Associate: “Unfortunately, if you don’t enter your full address, the results are inaccurate.”

Me: “I entered my full address, and your website gave me—”

Associate: “Then you must have done something wrong. Now, I can get a tech to your house on [date two weeks away]. It will be $100, and it needs to be paid up front.”

Me: “I’m going to have to decline. Thank you for your time.”

Associate: *Throwing his hands in the air* “Fine. Your choice. Have a nice day!”

I went back to the car and called my parents. My dad came out the next day and went to the store. He called me using his Bluetooth earpiece while I sat in the car so I could feed him the details. 

Dad: “I’m looking at this $89.99 plan, but it’s a little more than I wanted to pay.”

Me: “I’ll only have a couple of devices linked at once. Just streaming and surfing.”

Dad: “I don’t need all the bells and whistles. Maybe two devices connected at the same time.”

Associate: “Oh, no problem! I looked up your address, and there’s a plan for $39.99, and I can throw in a [Streaming Device] for no cost.”

Me: “He never offered that to me!”

Dad: “That’s great! I love it.”

Me: “The tech visit?”

Dad: “What about the tech coming out? My dogs don’t like strangers, so I want to be prepared.”

Associate: “Nah, you don’t need that. This house had Internet up to a couple of months ago, so you can just download the app on your phone and go through self-installation.”

Dad: “Oh, awesome. I’m going to have my kid come in and talk to you.”

Associate: “Great! I’d love to meet him.”

As soon as I walked in, the associate’s face fell.

Me: “Hi there. Remember me? So glad you changed your mind about my Internet!”

Associate: “Well, see, there are—”

Dad: *Casually* “No, don’t worry about it. You’re an a** who tried to scam my daughter into paying over double what she needed. Do you get commissions?”

Associate: “Yes, but—”

Dad: “Great. I’ll have someone else process this, then. Perhaps your supervisor.”

He gave the associate a brilliant smile.

The associate stood and went to a manager. They talked briefly before the manager came over. 

Manager: “Hello, folks. I’m [Manager]. I just spoke with [Associate], but can you tell me what’s going on?”

My dad tells [Manager] what happened. He gets more upset as the story goes on.

Manager: “I see. Let me take care of this for you.”

The manager gave me the streaming device for free, six months of router rental for free ($15 a month), and signed me up for a paperless billing discount ($10 a month). I don’t know what happened to that associate.

If Someone Hit My Dog, I Would Not Be Responsible For My Actions

, , , , , , , , | Friendly | CREDIT: MusicWhoreMan | November 17, 2022

Content Warning: Animal Abuse


I love my dogs. I have two dogs that I frequently take out for walks. Both are rescues and have gone through way more s*** than I have.

I decide to take Josephine (the oldest) out for a walk since Millie (the youngest) is fast asleep. We take the route we usually take when we go out for walks, and I notice that there is a new donut shop that just opened. The donuts look nice and delicious, so I decide to grab some. The only problem is that dogs aren’t allowed to go inside, but the owners have been nice enough to leave a spot outside for dogs with a bowl full of water and everything.

I chain Josephine outside. I am inside for around five minutes since there are a few people already there. I’m in line browsing on my phone when I hear my dog scream.

I look up and see this lady smacking my dog with her umbrella at full force numerous times. I quickly rush outside.

Me: “What the f*** are you doing, lady?!”

I pull Josephine away, but the lady keeps trying to smack her; she even hits me in the leg a couple of times.

I kid you not, these are the exact words that come out of this lady’s mouth.

Lady: “Your dog scratched my car!”

She gestures to her car, which is across the street, far away from Josephine. Then, she goes on this rant.

Lady: “You let your dog wander outside without a leash, and I had to it up after it scratched my car!”

I am legitimately confused because I definitely chained my dog before I went into the shop.

I immediately call the cops. The cops arrive while the woman is still ranting and screaming that I’ll have to pay for her car with my insurance. I’m fifteen, and I don’t know anything about insurance.

The cops intervene and try to defuse the situation. The lady then decides to play the victim.

Lady: “That dog viciously attacked me!”

Me: “My dog did snap at her because she was getting hit with an umbrella by a person she doesn’t know!”

The cops pulled her to the side and let her tell HER side of the story. I heard stuff about how my dog had scratched her car and attacked her and how she had “bravely” chained my dog.

Then the cops pulled me to the side and I got to tell my side of the story.

Guess who the cops believed?

While I was tending to my dog and checking for any wounds, I saw the cops handcuff the lady and forcefully shove her into their car because she was resisting arrest. She then threatened to sue me for harassment while screaming profanities.

No one sued me. My dog and I were fine, but she was whimpering all throughout that situation. She was definitely traumatized, but she’s doing well now.

I considered suing the lady for animal abuse, but then I found out that she was already in jail for insurance fraud and assault. I dont know about the insurance fraud part, but she apparently tried to push her coworker out of a window?

Anyway, I didn’t continue with the charges because she’s serving five years in jail now.