Unfiltered Story #87843

, | Unfiltered | June 2, 2017

(I work at a glove and tarp wholesale company. We distribute upwards of $5,000,000 in sales every year of our gloves designed by the owner this happens when I answer the phone one morning)

Me: thank you for calling *****, how can I help you?

Caller: gloves, I from Pakistan, I found website about gloves and call

Me: you need to order some gloves? Let me get you on the phone with purchasing

Caller: no purchase, website say gloves.

(At this point I’m confused so I put him on hold and my manger picks up. Later on I found out he also sold gloves and wanted us to take pictures of ours so he could “compare” and sell us more gloves. We had a good laugh about the fact he also just kept saying “GLOVES” to my manager)

Creating Class Surface Tension

, , , , | Learning | May 13, 2016

(I am a senior year in high school when I discover that I haven’t taken a required class for graduation.  My headmaster opts to just plunk me into the class, adding that I really don’t have to pay much attention, since it is taught with a seventh or eighth grade textbook. For most of the class, I pretty much keep to myself, ace the tests, and doze. That is, until one day near the end of term. The teacher is talking about random things when she comes to a point about water. I will never forget the next things she said.)

Teacher: “Surface tension is the tendency of water to stick to itself and repel other things.”

Me: *thinking* “Well, that’s over simplifying it… but eh, they’ll learn more later.”

Teacher: “In fact, surface tension is so strong, it’s what keeps ships afloat! From little speed boats, right up to big aircraft carriers.”

(At this point I blinked, and laughed loudly.)

Teacher: “Is something funny?”

Me: “Uh… yeah. Kinda.”

Teacher: *snooty* “Well, if it’s so funny, why don’t you share it with the rest of us?

Me: “I don’t think you want me to do that.”

Teacher: “You’ll either share it or I’m sending you to the headmaster’s office for disrupting my class.”

Me: “You asked. You just said that surface tension is what keeps ships afloat right?”

Teacher: “Yes. Do you have a problem with what I teach?”

Me: “When it’s wrong, and I can prove it wrong? Yeah, I do.”

Teacher: “So, you know more than me now, is that it? If you think you’re so smart, then why don’t you prove me wrong? Come on up. Let’s see your so-called ‘proof.'”

(I walk up to the board and start writing.)

Teacher: “What’s that mumbo jumbo?”

Me: “It’s the formula to figure buoyancy.”

Teacher: “So, surface tension.”

Me: “Nope, because this takes into consideration the submerged volume of an object, which is V, the fluid’s density, which is P, and the gravitational acceleration which is a standard 9.8 meters per second squared. Using this, you can determine whether or not an object can remain afloat.”

Teacher: “You just made that up.”

Me: “No, Archimedes did back, oh, I’d say, about three thousand years ago. Even then, people weren’t stupid enough to think that surface tension keeps something afloat.”

(The teacher leaves, coming back a few minutes later with the headmaster in tow.)

Teacher: *pointing to the formula* “She is lying to the students!”

(She rants about how I claim the formula can tell what kept things afloat. He looks at my work.)

Headmaster: *nodding* “She got the formula right… So, what’s the problem here?”

(The teacher loses it and storms out. I explained what she’d said and he groans, pointing to the board and to the students.)

Headmaster: “Learn this. It’ll help you in your physics class. As to what the teacher said… We’ll work something out.”

(In the end, I didn’t have to go back to the class. The remaining five or six weeks of class were cancelled, and the teacher dismissed. Years later, at one of our class reunions, the subject came up again. We got back to the question of how someone like that could get a teaching license. One of the students, who had been a freshman in that year, and remembered the incident explained. Apparently the lady was the mother of one of the students, had worked as a substitute teacher, and when the regular geography teacher had to take a year off due to an accident, she stepped in to take her place. After her dismissal, it had been discovered that she’d lied about her qualifications.)

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This Class Is A Car-Wreck

, , | Learning | February 2, 2016

(I am taking driver’s ed in the late 1970s at the YMCA. It is an odd class in that it is made up of students from good private schools too small to have a program of their own, rural students (again, too small for a program), students who flunked at big schools, and the occasional person who just didn’t fit in anywhere. Median age is about two years higher than normal. Questions to the class get some bizarre answers:)

Teacher: “How many of you have crashed a car and how old were you?”

Farm Kid: *raises hand* “Me, when I was 10.”

Teacher: “On a farm, I assume. I had a farm kid who wrecked his first car at age four. Okay, let’s go around the class and tell what jobs you’ve got.”

Assorted Students: “Fast food place, car wash, babysitting, etc.”

(Weirdly enough, I was a magician’s assistant at the time.)

Girl: *about 17-18, made up to look 25, wears 8″ platform shoes, loud mini-skirt, tight top with some feather effect* “Um… unemployed?”

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The Car That Ate Up Dinner

, , , | Related | October 30, 2015

(My mom’s car is a little older and she has to work on it frequently. She’s just told us she has to do some quick fixing on it.)

Brother: “So we should not plan on you making dinner?”

Mother: “It’s just [a quick and easy thing to fix].”

Brother: “You never just fix one thing on your car. You go to do a five minute oil change and then end up spending four hours on about six other things to fix.”

(After spending a few seconds looking at my brother and thinking:)

Mother: “Yeah. Don’t count on me making dinner.”

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You’re My Number One Problem

, , | Right | March 13, 2015

(I overhear the following conversation between a resident and the manager of our building. The resident is notorious for being a nuisance, and for letting his yippy little rat of a dog relieve herself everywhere, both in his apartment, and in common areas.)

Resident: “The carpet in my apartment needs to be cleaned. It smells awful!”

Manager: “Maintenance deep cleaned it a month ago; it’s really smelling again?”

Resident: “Yes! It’s disgusting. You need to find staff who know how to clean things properly. I’m paying far too much to live in a smelly apartment.”

Manager: “The last time the carpet was cleaned, maintenance reported that the smell appeared to come from dozens of urine stains. Perhaps if your dog were to stop urinating on the carpet, the smell wouldn’t come back.”

Resident: “What!? My precious little [Cutesy Dog Name] is housebroken, and I walk her several times a day! How dare you blame her? You people have been trying to get rid of her for years, and I won’t stand for it!”

Manager: “Oh, I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have made that assumption about [Cutesy Dog Name]. Perhaps if YOU stop peeing on the carpet, the smell won’t return.”

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