Unfiltered Story #95378

, , , | Unfiltered | September 20, 2017

My uncle and grandfather were both leaning back in recliners with their arms crossed behind their heads. My uncle (who has been putting his thumb and forefinger around each of his wrists absentmindedly for a while) says to my grandfather “Hey Dad, is one of your wrists smaller than the other?”

My grandfather proceeds to do the same thing, putting the same two fingers around each of his wrists. “No,” he says, “I can make my fingers touch on both wrists.” My uncle says, “That’s weird, I can’t.”

They continue this way for a while with my grandmother staring at them both as though they are the dumbest people ever born until she finally goes, “[Uncle]! You are missing half of one thumb!”

My uncle was in a factory accident. A coworker of his tried to pull something on a conveyor belt through a machine too fast and it sucked my uncle’s hand in and shredded his thumb to the middle joint. He had been this way for decades at the time of this story.

Unfiltered Story #95376

, , | Unfiltered | September 20, 2017

(A few years ago I worked as a bus boy and general assistant to the chefs. I usually go out into the dining area to get the dishes and bring them back to wash them. I’m a tall, chubby guy and I was 15 at the time being. The shirts I wore were black so I could fit in with the staff’s outfits, but most of the time the shirt was a size too small. This was one of those times. I pick up plates near an old couple.)

Old Man: “Hey, kid!”

Me: “Yes?”

(The couple look disgusted.)

Old Man: “You need to get better shirts, you look like a f****** queer.”

(I’m taken aback by this, mostly because I’ve never experienced homophobes this straightforward before. He keeps on.)

Old Man: “D*** queers, always making such strapping young men f**s.”

(I just decided to leave, but the old man was persistent.)

Old Man: “I don’t want to see you in a short shirt again, cause I’ll know you’re a queer then. It’s a sin to be a queer!”

(I’ve had enough then.)

Me: “There’s nothing wrong with being gay, actually, it’s supported here. If you want to be an old homophobic a**-hole you can leave; I’m sure the bartender will help.”

(The bartender is a muscular man and is pretty protective of me. The old man turned pale and left, his wife apologized and left too. A few months later the restaurant closed. The best part of the whole thing? A few weeks ago I saw the old man and his wife, and he saw me with my handsome boyfriend and freaked out when me and my boyfriend made out in front of him.)

Enough To Make You Sushi (Roll) Your Eyes

, , , , | Right | September 12, 2017

Me: “Good evening, [Sushi Restaurant], how can I help you?”

Caller: “Hi, can I get a Maryland roll with no sushi?”

Me: “Well, there is nothing called ‘sushi’ in that roll. Sushi isn’t an ingredient, it’s just what the roll is. It’s a sushi roll. There’s no raw fish or fish eggs in that roll, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Caller: “No, I just don’t want any sushi.”

Me: “Do you mean no seaweed or rice in the roll?”

Caller: “No, I want the seaweed and the rice. I just don’t want sushi in my Maryland roll.”

Me: “Okay, well, I can assure you there will be no ingredient called ‘sushi’ in your roll.”

(I put the roll through as usual, and when the caller came to pick it up, they didn’t complain. I still don’t know what they were asking.)

Unfiltered Story #93330

, , , | Unfiltered | September 7, 2017

(It has been a really easy day, so my manager and I are in pretty good moods and are being a little silly. I’m about to leave and need to tell my coworker something, but she’s checking someone out and I don’t want to interrupt her focus.)

Me: “Hey, [Manager], tell [Coworker] where I left off on [task] like you asked me to do?”

Manager: “Sure! Hey, [Coworker]!” *explains*

Me: C’mon, she was checking someone out. You could’ve let her finish…

Manager: Yeah, but I’m rude and evil. See you later!

Not that my manager is usually a sourpuss or anything, but this was the goofiest mood I think I’ve ever seen him in…

Talking In A Grandfatherly Tone

, , , , | Right | September 6, 2017

(My store handles most of our business over phone orders, so it’s not uncommon to pick up a call and have someone checking or double-checking something they already called about with a coworker. I’m a college student, and quite literally the only female at my store in any capacity. Everyone else is at least forty-five and male.)

Me: *answering phone* “[Store], this is [My Name] speaking. How can I help you?”

Caller: “I’m calling to check on an order.”

Me: “All right, can I get the car type and part?”

Caller: “It’s a water pump for a ’99 Buick. I just talked to you this morning.”

Me: *I don’t recall working on any Buick orders at all, but check my notes anyway.* “I don’t see anything. Are you sure you spoke to me?”

Caller: “It was definitely you!”

Me: *I double-check and still don’t see it, so I’m doubtful I took the order.* “Can I just verify your car information one more time? It doesn’t seem as if I took the order.”

Caller: “I know you took it! It was just this morning, lady!”

Me: “Please hold. I’m going to double check something.” *I put the guy on hold. I turn to the rest of the counter people, whose stations are all around me and within easy speaking distance.* “Has anyone dealt with a guy on a Buick water pump this morning?”

Coworker Beside Me: “Oh! Yeah, I did one this morning.”

(My coworker is a grandfather and a heavy smoker with the accompanying rasp. I have absolutely no idea how anyone would confuse our voices.)

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