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Whatever Butters Your Muffin, I Guess

, , , , | Working | April 28, 2022

My college’s dining hall is set up buffet-style with a few different areas for different kinds of food, so I usually walk a circuit to see what’s available before making a plate. It’s lunchtime and my plate is almost full, but as I pass by the dessert counter, I take a solitary chocolate chip mini-muffin from a tray of donut bites.

Almost immediately, one of the dining hall employees pops up out of nowhere with a giant grin.

Employee: “THANK YOU for taking that muffin! I KNEW someone would appreciate it!”

I think about this encounter regularly.

“Candy Incoming!” Will Be One Of Our T-shirts!

, , , , | Right | April 25, 2022

I work in concessions for college sports. Today is one of the biggest football games of the year against the college’s biggest rival, so we are absolutely slammed. Officially, I’m a runner for the night, but the runner for the register next to mine has to make a quick bathroom trip, so in the meantime, I’m getting food and bottled drinks for his register, listening to customers for orders since the cashiers are terrible at calling them back and don’t like leaving the registers, trying to restock dwindling supplies, and pouring cups of hot cocoa and coffee.

I’m a little overwhelmed.

I’m in the middle of filling a hot cocoa when I hear this order at the nearest register.

Customer: “Just a [candy], please.”

The candy rack is within reach, so I grab his candy. However, I have my finger on the button to pour the hot cocoa and don’t want to leave it, since it’s our biggest item of the night, and every second counts.

Me: “[CANDY] INCOMING!”

I chuck it through the air, and it slides perfectly halfway across the counter. The cashier blinks like she’s not sure what just happened, but she’s already rung the order through so there’s not much she can do.

Customer: “Woah. You guys are dedicated!”

I would’ve said something in return, but I already had two more orders to fill!

Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood: After Dark

, , , , , , , , | Romantic Working | April 25, 2022

My manager’s manager is a fairly nice guy. He is bald, always wears argyle cardigans, and has a friendly attitude that earned him the nickname Mr. Rogers. He self-identifies as gay, though you wouldn’t know it if you didn’t see him attending a company meeting with his husband and didn’t notice the pictures of him and his husband that his office was bedecked with.

My coworker in my department self-identifies as a lesbian. She also self-identifies as a “riot grrrr” and dyes her hair bright colors. She’s very loud and proud about her identity as a lesbian, and her cubicle is equally bedecked with pictures of her wife, political cartoons about lesbianism and feminism, and office plants. I get along with her pretty well, though sometimes I have to tune her out when she gets upset and starts ranting while she works. I think it mostly she just rants to calm herself down.

Because I’m one of the few people who doesn’t get into arguments with [Coworker], my cubicle is near hers.

One day, I come into work, and [Coworker]’s cubicle is completely empty. I was expecting to work with her on a client together today, so I find this surprising — and upsetting as I need her portion of the work as well as mine.

I manage to reschedule the client so I can actually have time to either find or remake her work, and I go to management to ask what the heck happened.

“Mr. Rogers’” office is also completely sterile and empty. My manager’s title has been changed; he’s been promoted.

I ask him what happened.

It turns out that a janitor walked in on “’Mr. Rogers” performing a sex act on [Coworker] in the office after hours.

Normally, cheating on your spouse — even with a coworker — is not grounds for dismissal, but the fact that the sexual acts occurred on the premise was determined to be cause for immediate removal, as per the “morals” clause of our contracts.

According to my manager, both “Mr. Rogers” and [Coworker] maintained their innocence, insisting that it wasn’t cheating because they were doing it with someone of a different sex than their spouses.

Last I heard, they were both divorced and had found work again in different accounting firms. “Mr. Rogers” sent the whole office a letter when he was hired by his new place, and my coworker emailed me, though no one else. I guess I made an impression on her?

It’s Like A Hug For Your Neck!

, , , , , | Related | April 15, 2022

One of my older cousins got married when I was in my early teens. Some of the bridal shower decorations were made with pearly pale pink beads. There were a few packs of beads leftover, so I used some of them to make a short necklace for my cousin. It didn’t look too different from any other inexpensive faux pearl necklace.

A few weeks later, she brought up the subject of the necklace.

Cousin: “It really is beautiful. Thank you.”

Me: “You’re welcome!”

Cousin: “You know the best part?”

Me: “What?”

Cousin: “I get to tell people, ‘Oh, my cousin made me a necklace for my wedding shower!’ and they assume I’m talking about a little kid. Then, I point to my neck and say, ‘Isn’t it pretty?’ and the look on their face is hilarious!”

She’s mostly stopped wearing jewelry since the birth of her first child, but I’m glad she got a few laughs out of it before it had to be hidden from grabby baby hands!

With Great Power Comes Great Literacy

, , , , , , | Related | April 11, 2022

This story was told to me by my mother. I’m an itty-bitty first-grader at the local public library with her. Even though I’ve only recently started reading with any kind of ease and my library card is brand new, I LOVE books. My only previous library experience is with my school library, which has a checkout limit of two books per child.

Me: “How many can I check out?”

Mom: “Why don’t you ask the librarian over there?”

Satisfied with being given a route to an answer, I go chase after the librarian, who has just decided to move to a nearby section. My mom stays put, wanting to give me a little independence and knowing I won’t go far.

When I return, the librarian trails behind me to make sure I get back to my mother. She, however, is focused on me — more specifically, my vaguely diabolical ear-to-ear grin.

Mom: “What did the librarian say?”

Me: *Still beaming* “She said I could check out AS MANY AS I COULD HANDLE.”

Thus began many years of checking out twenty books at a time — enough that carrying them was a test of my strength and my book bag wept for mercy — and finishing them all in a week. My mom still laughs at the thought of that giant grin on my face as I realized the power of a library card.