No Wonder Fries Are So Addictive…

, , , , , , , | Learning | January 1, 2018

(My grandfather was a math teacher, and this is a story I heard about him many times. Given the end result, I believe the particular topic at hand was statistics.)

Grandfather: “Now, nobody needs to answer, and if you do, I’m not going to tell anyone. How many people here have smoked marijuana?”

(Several hands go up.)

Grandfather: “Okay. Now, keep your hand up if the first time you ever had mashed potatoes came before the first time you ever had marijuana.”

(Everyone’s hand stayed up. And that’s how my grandfather “proved” that mashed potatoes are a gateway drug.)

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Counting In Massachusetts

, , , , , , , , | Related | December 30, 2017

(My sister and I — both adults, more or less — are at our parents’ for Christmas. We’re all playing dominoes, at which my dad is truly terrible.)

Dad: “I just never have the right number! Look at this: four, four, I just need four! *he holds up his fingers as he counts* “One, two, three, four!”

Me: “Un, deux, trois, quatre!” *also holding up fingers*

Dad: “Ichi, ni, san, chi!”

Me: “Ein, zwei, drei, vier!”

Sister: *holds up fingers* “Shut. The. F***. Up.”

(Ah, family!)

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To Call It A Scar Is A Bit Of A Stretch

, , | Healthy | December 27, 2017

(I have dislocated my shoulder.)

Doctor: *looking at a mark on my shoulder* “I see you’ve previously had your shoulder operated on.”

Me: “No.”

Doctor: “Yes, there’s the surgical scar right there.”

Me: “No, it’s a stretch mark.”

Doctor: “No, it’s a surgical scar.”

Me: “Unless somebody kidnapped me, drugged me, then operated on me while I was unconscious, I think I would remember surgery.”

Doctor: “…”

(A few years later, I was being examined by a dermatologist, and I told him the story. He said that it did indeed look like a surgical scar, and would I care to come by the hospital during rounds so he could fool his interns?)

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Santa Has Needs That Mrs. Claus Can’t Provide

, , , , , | Working | December 26, 2017

(My credit union coworkers and I are doing Secret Santa. We all have a very sarcastic sense of humor that jives well with the group. [Coworker] unwraps gift to reveal a garment box.)

Coworker: “I wonder what it is…”

Manager #1: *loudly and excitedly* “That’s S&M!”

(Everybody stares at manager with shocked expressions.)

Manager #1: “Right? That’s S&M isn’t it?”

Me: “I sure hope not!”

Manager #1: “What? It’s nice! I go there all the time!”

Me: “We don’t want to hear what you do in the bedroom!”

Manager #1: “I don’t understand…”

Manager #2: “Do you mean H&M?”

(Everyone laughs uncontrollably.)

Coworker: “Oooh! How lovely! A scarf!”

Manager #2: “I guess it could be S&M.”

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Some Doors Shouldn’t Be Open At Christmas

, , , | Right | December 25, 2017

(I work at a pet store as a cashier and have to make the closing announcements, but we let the customers shop for a couple of minutes after closing if they can tell us what they’re looking for. When I finish the announcement on Christmas Eve, a customer immediately approaches the register.)

Me: “Welcome! Find everything all right today?”

Customer: *already incredibly angry* “I would have, but I’m being forced out of here! How could you close an hour early?!”

Me: “I’m really sorry about that. I would love to help you find what you’re looking for. Just remember that it’s Christmas Eve and we’d like to get back home.”


Me: “I’m really sorry about that, sir. I would be happy to ring you up. Do you have our store card?”

Customer: “H***, no! I’m never shopping here again!”

(I realize that it was probably best that I just ring the store card through rather than try to ask him any more questions, plus he can’t leave a bad employee review.)


Me: “I put the store card in. I don’t want you to miss out on any deals.”

(I scan his items through, and the transaction was luckily uneventful; however, the doors are locked and I cannot let him out because I don’t have keys.)

Me: “Just give me one second. My manager locked the doors after we closed.”

(I page my manager and the customer walks to the doors. After 30 seconds the customer comes back inside. I am at this point terrified; there is something wrong with the customer.)

Me: “I’m really sorry, sir. My manager must be taking out the trash. I’ll page him again.”


Me: “I don’t have the key.”

(The customer says something unspeakably rude and starts waiting at the door again. My manager arrives and unlocks the door. my manager begins sliding the automatic door open manually when the customer grabs the door and pushes it so hard that I could hear it outside the atrium, and runs out the door. My manager tries to close the door, but nothing happens.)

Me: “What are we going to do?”

Manager: “Well, I guess you can go home. I’m stuck here until I can get somebody to fix the door.”

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