Something Else On Their Mind

, , , , | Learning | December 19, 2017

(I am wandering around the school with some friends after lunch.)

Friend #1: “I’m so not ready for my math test.”

Friend #2: “What period do you have math?”

Friend #1: “My math class is next period.”

Friend #3: “Uh-oh, we’d better quiz you.”

Friend #2: “What’s 7+63?”

Friend #1: “69.”

Me: “Are you serious?”

([Friend #1] realized what she said and immediately face-palmed.)

Making Tall Assumptions

, , , , | Friendly | December 18, 2017

(I’ve been tall all my life so I’m always mistaken as older. I’m used to it. My wife and I are grocery shopping and she goes off to another aisle to get something. The youngest my wife has ever been mistaken for is 19.)

Stranger: “Your daughter doesn’t look much like you.”

Me: “She’s not my daughter.”

Stranger: “Oh. Sister?”

Me: “No, she’s my wife.”

Stranger: *appalled* “You’re not old enough to be married!”

Me: “But I’m old enough to have a kid her age?”

Stranger: “Well… I guess not… But you’re so tall, so you must be older. And the pink hair, but that means you’re younger. Wait, then that means you’re gay. You’re not old enough to be gay!”

(I just rolled my eyes and walked away. I wonder what the stranger would have thought about the wine I later bought. And for the record, my wife and I are both 26.)

Google Translate: Now Includes Parseltongue

, , , , | Friendly | December 14, 2017

Little Girl: “I can talk to snakes!”

Cashier: “Oh? What do they say?”

Little Girl: *starts hissing*

Cashier: “And what does that mean?”

Little Girl: *face scrunches up* “It means—” *hisses louder*

His Blood Is Pumping For Other Things

, , , , | Right | December 14, 2017

(I’m working a blood drive at a large VA hospital. We get some wonderful and interesting characters coming to donate but this guy — who reminds me forcefully of Lieutenant Dan from Forrest Gump — is responsible for one of the best exchanges I’ve ever had on the job.)

Me: “All right, next question: ‘In the last year, have you had any form of sexual contact with a prostitute?'”

Lt. Dan:Huh?

Me: ”’In the last year, have you had any form of sexual contact with a prostitute?'”

Lt. Dan: “Yup, I have.”

Me: *maintaining professionalism* “Well, sir, that will be a problem. I won’t be able to let you donate today.”

Lt. Dan: “What?! How come? I know she’s clean.”

Me: *involuntary chuckle* “Well, sir, it’s just that that’s considered a high-risk behavior, and we prevent you from donating for your safety, as well as for the recipient of the blood.”

Lt. Dan: “I suppose that’s fair. How long before I can donate again?”

Me: “One year from the last time you were with a prostitute.”

Lt. Dan: “Hang on, young lady; are you telling me I can’t have sex with a hooker for a whole year if I want to donate?”

Me: *trying not to laugh* “Yes, sir, I’m afraid those are the rules.”

Lt. Dan: “Oh, s***. I can’t go a whole year. I’m out of here.”

Me: *breaking and laughing out loud* “That’s your call, sir. Feel free to grab some snacks on your way out.”

(At least he was honest!)

And That’s How The Not-Free Cookie Crumbles

, , , , , | Right | December 8, 2017

(A customer I’ve never seen before comes in and gets a sandwich, pays for it, and goes to wait for it to be made. He then asks one of my coworkers:)

Customer: “Could I have a cookie as well?”

Coworker: “Yes.”

(The customer helps himself to a cookie from the jar. He gets his sandwich and sits down to eat it. Then my coworker asks me:)

Coworker: “Did he pay you for a cookie?”

(Of course he didn’t pay for it, since he didn’t ask to get a cookie until after he paid, so I go over to him.)

Me: “Excuse me, but you have to pay for that cookie.”

Customer: “She gave it to me.”

Me: “Um, no, she didn’t just give it to you for free.”

Customer: “She said I could have it.”

Me: “Yeah… to pay for.”

Customer: “Well, how much is the cookie, then?” *getting out his wallet*

Me: Fifty cents.”

Customer: *as he’s pulling out a dollar bill* “Absolutely pathetic; making me pay for a stupid cookie.”

Me: “Yeah, it is pretty pathetic that you can’t afford a fifty-cent cookie.”

(He paid me the fifty cents and didn’t say a word after that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone eat and leave that fast before.)

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