Not Even Going To Try To Massage The Truth

, , , , , | Right | August 8, 2018

(My father decides to buy us both 25-minute massages from a small store in a mall. In the store there is one other couple getting foot massages, and a slew of workers. About ten minutes into his massage, my father passes out because he got overheated. When he wakes up, the workers, the security supervisor of the mall, two mall cops, and I are all standing there waiting for an ambulance to arrive. I then hear the security supervisor talking to the lady getting a foot massage, and although I only hear one side of the conversation, I have a pretty good idea of what is being said.)

Security Supervisor: “What?”

Security Supervisor: “No, I can’t massage your feet.”

Security Supervisor: “I don’t work here.”

Not All Recoveries Are Medical

, , , , , , | Related | August 4, 2018

My uncle recently passed away due to tumors in his lungs and brain. After the memorial service, my cousin relates this story.

After a brain surgery, a therapist is asking Uncle how much he knows and remembers. He points to my aunt and asks Uncle if he knows who she is. Uncle looks at her and clearly draws a blank, before smiling and saying, “The love of my life.”

He had (temporarily) forgotten her name, but it was generally agreed he made a smooth recovery.

Losing The Numbers Game

, , , , , | Right | August 2, 2018

(I work for a small non-profit that connects people with legal resources. A local hotel accidentally gave out our phone number instead of theirs to a bunch of guests. I have a variation of this phone call about seven times this day.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Non-Profit]. How may I help you?”

Caller: “Is this [Hotel]?”

Me: “No, I’m sorry. This is [Non-Profit]. We’re a non-profit.”

Caller: “But this is the number I was given!”

Me: “Are you in need of legal resources?”

Caller: “Of course not! I’m trying to call [Hotel].”

Me: “Well, this isn’t [Hotel]; this is a non-profit.”

Caller: “But this is the number I was given!”

Me: *slams head into desk*

Unfiltered Story #116528

, , | Unfiltered | July 21, 2018

(I work in the marketing department of my store and we’re currently promoting the store credit card we offer by setting up a table with several signs and pamphlets sitting out. I’ve been at the table for 6 hours, have had several people sign up, but most people just want the candy we’ve set out, when an older woman walks up)

Woman: And what are you selling here?
Me: Our [store credit card] that we offer with no annual fee and great-
Woman: (interrupting me) Oh no, I can’t get that, because (drops her voice to a whisper) they’re connected with abortions
(She takes a piece of candy and walks away)

Fraught With A Quart

, , , , , , | Working | July 20, 2018

(I’m bringing some used motor oil to an auto parts store to be recycled. Depending on who’s working at the time, they may take the oil for me, or they might have me go in the back and pour it out myself. This time, an employee escorts me to the recycling tank. Each time this is done, there’s a log that needs to be filled out. We get to the part regarding “quantity” when this happens.)

Employee: “So, how much?”

Me: “Well, this says gallons, so let’s say one.”

Employee: *indicating my container* “That’s one?”

Me: “Well, it’s five quarts, and there are four quarts in a gallon, so it’s a little more than one.”

Employee: “So…”

Me: “We can say one and a half, because that’s gallons.”

Employee: “So, four?”

Me: *giving up* “Sure.”

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