Stupid Is Calling

, , , , , , , | Friendly | December 29, 2019

(This is the good old time of landlines. I answer the phone.)

Me: “Hello?”

Caller: “Yeah, pass me Bull.”

Me: “Who?”

Guy: *overly pronouncing* “Buuuuullllll! Paaaaassss meeee Buuuuullllll!”

Me: “I think you have the wrong–”

(Then, I hear a voice in the background.)

Background Voice: “What’s going on?”

Guy: *not even trying to muffle himself* “It’s his stupid sister; she won’t pass him!”

Background Voice: “Maybe his family doesn’t call him by his nickname but his actual name.”

Guy: “Oh, yeah… Can I speak to [My Brother]?”

Me: “Sure, stupid.”

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Can’t Make An Apples To Apples Comparison Between Them

, , , , | Right | December 16, 2019

(I work as a barista in a small coffee shop in a huge mall. One customer starts staring at the order menu in a concentrated manner.)

Customer: “I’ll have a cream latte.”

Me: “Excuse me? I really don’t know what that is.”

(I have never even heard this term before.)

Customer: “Yeah, a cream latte!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we don’t carry it; if you want I can make you a regular latte?”

(She sighs loudly and finally agrees. She proceeds to look at the pastries.)

Customer: “What’s this?”

Me: “Banana bread.”

Customer: “Oh… what’s this?

Me: “An apple turnover.”

Customer: “Oh!” *long pause* “What’s in it?”

Me: “Apples?”

(We kept at it for maybe five minutes and she even waited for me to bring her tray to her table.)

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Meet My Friend, Gaston!

, , , , , , | Romantic | December 2, 2019

(In my early 20s, my best friend decides I should date her boyfriend’s roommate. We have seen each other at group gatherings, or whenever I go see my best friend at her place. I don’t think we are a good match, so I kind of just ignore the subtle pushing until my best friend decides to have a straightforward discussion about it.)

Best Friend: “Why don’t you try dating [Boyfriend’s Roommate]?

Me: “I don’t think we have anything in common, really. I don’t see us be anything, even as friends on our own I’m not sure…”

Best Friend: “Don’t say that; you both play [music instrument]!”  

Me: “Yeah, but I believe that’s where it stops. Otherwise, what hobbies does he have? Going to see strippers?”

Best Friend: “Oh, I’m sure that he’d stop going if he had a girlfriend.”

Me: “I’m not so sure about that.”

(I don’t want to start a debate about this kind of industry. I also don’t want to have to explain how starting a relationship with someone on the hope I’ll make the guy change is a terrible idea. People don’t change, seriously.)

Me: “Also, the only other thing I have seen him do or talk about is smoking weed.” *not legal at that time* “Which, you know, I’m no crusader against, but I still disapprove of recreational drug use.”

Best Friend: “You have to cut him some slack; he can’t drink alcohol.”

Me: “Well… I may drink a glass here and there, but I’m no big fan either. I just can’t see myself having to skirt around my own boyfriend whenever he’s under influence, or have me withdraw all the time for his habits.”

Best Friend: “Don’t be like that; he has some good points, too! Like, he’s still a gentleman and strives for higher education lately.”

Me: “He called me a witch when I said a three-syllable word!”

(Thankfully, she stopped there and so did the date pushing.)

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Women Shouldn’t Have To Be Embarrassed By This, Period!

, , , , , , , | Friendly | November 21, 2019

I am seventeen, going out with some friends, old and new, for a night at a restaurant. I, unfortunately, get the unexpected visit of my period. I have not brought my purse with me tonight, and I did not plan to have hygiene products in my pockets. I try asking the only other female in the group but she says she has nothing.

I’m too shy to go from table to table and ask strangers around — the bathroom is a single, so it’s not like I can meet someone there and ask discreetly. I try to fix something out of the thin, see-through toilet paper but with poor results. I’m awfully uncomfortable; I can’t wait for this dinner to be over and go home.

Misfortune keeps coming; everyone insists that we go over to the home of one of the guys — a male-only house that won’t have anything to help my problem — and watch a movie. I try to decline but they won’t let me back out.

I’m then dragged with them to the video rental store. I manage to make some weird excuse to let them go choose a movie while I “wait for them outside.”

As soon as the door closes behind them, I make a run to a pharmacy we passed, buy whichever package of hygiene products I can find that will fit in my pants pocket, borrow their “staff-only” bathroom — all my gratitude to the cashier who understood the situation and graciously let me in; you’re a real sister! — and dash back to the video rental store just in time for my friends to come out. We go watch the movie, and the whole time, I’m crossing my fingers that my suddenly overstuffed pockets won’t explode or be too noticeable. 

I kind of forget about this bad evening until sometime later when some of my “older” friends mention the new guys that joined us that night. I haven’t seen them since, but my friends are talking like they have seen them recently, so I ask about them; I’m curious why I was not invited.

It turns out they believed I was not really friendly, like all I wanted was to go away. They said I was either saying strange things to withdraw or looking blank or worried, which they took offense to because it’s not like they were dangerous or about to do anything wrong. They decided that I must be some psycho-loner-paranoid-b****, so they’d rather not see me again. Because, sure, my whole night experience was about those guys. All points of view are required to understand what happened, and you may never know others’; don’t only stick to your side and judge too fast.

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Unfiltered Story #177682

, , , | Unfiltered | November 14, 2019

This happened recently during a super busy night. We have chicken burgers on our menu, and since day 1 they’ve been made with chicken ground in-house. The front of house manager comes to the me (chef) with a returned chicken burger:

Manager: “Hey… just to check, this is the regular chicken burger, right? Not our veggie chicken?”
Me: (taking one look at it) “Yup… that’s regular chicken, do I need to make a new veggie one?”
Manager: “No no… this customer just keeps saying it’s not chicken, I thought I was going crazy for a second”

He leaves and comes back 5 minutes later:
Manager: “So… that customer wants to talk to you, he’s not angry or anything, please come?”
Luckily he came in a small lull in service, so I went to speak to this customer.

Me: (hiding my annoyance) “Is everything alright?”
Customer: (waving the burger in my face) “This isn’t chicken”
Me: “Uh… yes… it is…”
Customer: “No it isn’t, chicken has fibres and everything, this isn’t chicken! What is this?!”
Me: “I assure you, sir, it’s chicken. We just pass it through a grinder and form it into patties…”
Customer: “No it isn’t! This isn’t chicken! I ordered the chicken burger because I had it last time and it was pieces of chicken together! This isn’t chicken, I don’t know what this is!”
Me: “Like I said sir… this is chicken, I don’t know where you had that before, but it certainly wasn’t here, as this is how we’ve done our chicken burgers since day one…”
Customer: “Stop lying! I’ve had it before here! WHERE’S THE CHICKEN?? WHAT IS THIS?!”
At this moment I couldn’t help but laugh and just walked away.

The manager was annoyed with me at first, but apparently the guy didn’t leave any complaints.

Ever since then the kitchen staff will periodically pick random food items up (usually vegetables) and scream: “WHERE’S THE CHICKEN?! WHAT IS THIS?!!”