Tribbles Of Fury

, , , , , , | Friendly | August 31, 2018

(I recently adopted a new cat. He’s quite unusual. This leads to me having this scenario, I don’t know how many times, with just about anyone coming in my home. As I welcome my visitors — could be friends, family, coworkers, anyone — I warn them right at the door.)

Me: “I got a new cat, Sugar. He’s a little spooky, but please try to not be scared; as it is, he’ll be more afraid of you than you can be of him.”

Friend: “Of course. No problem; it’s just a cat. Is he missing an eye or something?”

Me: “No… You see, he’s a little, round, fluffy ball of black fur.”

Friend: “Oh, no worries. I’m not superstitious or anything.”

Me: “Yeah… That’s not all. He has orange eyes.”

Friend: “Oh, so unique! Must be charming!”

Me: “Yes, he is! Actually, his appearance pushed him to be rejected by people, but really, he just wants to love people, if only they would give him the chance to be loved back. He’s a little shy at the moment, but if you stay calm, he’ll purr like crazy and even will try to lick you.”

Friend: “Aww, so cute.”

(Some time passes, and as we are having a cup of tea in the living room, the cat shows up and curiously but cautiously approaches. I don’t want him to sneak up on people, as he’s already surprising in himself, so I announce him.)

Me: “Hey, [Friend], he’s coming out. Say, ‘hi,’ to Sugar!”

(My friend is smiling as he turns to look… until the orange glow of eyes on a round shaped shadow slowly moving toward us is seen, then he SWEARS AND JUMPS on the seat. Sugar, scared by the screaming human, runs for his life, hiding in another room.)

Me: “Yeah, I did my best to warn you…”

(Most people feel like fools for reacting in such a way and excuse themselves. Also, second meetings with Sugar go much better. They get to see him for what he is: a scary but sweet little fluff-ball of love.)

Pizza With A Sharp Flavor

, , , | Right | July 31, 2018

(I work in a restaurant that caters mostly to families, so we often get requests for extra napkins, high chairs, etc. I’ve been serving a family of six — three adults and two teenagers — and everything is going smoothly until I bring out their food.)

Mother: “Excuse me? Miss!”

Me: “Yes? Is everything okay with your meal?”

Mother: “Yes, I was wondering if you had any scissors?”

Me: “Scissors?”

Mother: “Yes. I need some”

(I go to the cash and grab an old pair of scissors; we typically use them to cut up old papers and open boxes. I bring them to her.)

Mother: “Thanks!”

(I turn around to check on another table, and when I go to take the scissors back, I see the mother cutting her teenage son’s pizza into bite-sized pieces with the scissors! I am mortified. At the end of the night, I go to pick up scissors that are now covered in sauce and sticky cheese.)

Mother: “Oh, well, I guess you can clean those off! Thanks again!”

Me: “Have a great night…”

(For the record, we provide steak knives for those who want to cut their pizza.)

Bad Breakup Means Bad Ice Breaker

, , , | Learning | July 27, 2018

(My girlfriend and I volunteer to help with nurse practical exams, which means we play the roles of various patients the nurses in training have to respond to. This leads to many interesting stories, but this one is the best. My girlfriend gets to play the role of a girl admitted to the ER after a suicide attempt following a bad breakup.)

Girlfriend: *jokingly to the examiner* “I hope they won’t pull the whole ‘plenty of fish in the sea’ line on me. I think that would only make things worse.”

Examiner: “They should have more common sense than that.”

(In comes the nurse in training, who, faced, with amateurishly fake crying, proceeds to give her every clichéd post-breakup line in the book. My girlfriend manages to make her fits of laughter pass as more crying, and it fools the guy well enough. To top it all off, he gives her her clothing without removing the belt, giving her everything she needs to hang herself in the scenario.)

Girlfriend: *after the nurse in training left* “Please tell me he failed.”

Home, Home On The (Price) Range

, , , , , | Related | July 25, 2018

(I am a student in my early 20s with a part-time job. My mum is not a student and has had a full-time job for many years. We are both looking for apartments.)

Mum: “I saw a lot of ‘for rent’ signs on [Street]! It’s such a good area; there are so many shops nearby, and there’s a park a short walk away… You should check it out!”

Me: “Um… Why don’t you check them out?”

Mum: “Oh, they’re not in my price range.”

Me: “And you think they’ll be in my price range?”

A Sauce Of Confusion

, , , , , | Working | June 15, 2018

(I am at a sandwich shop.)

Clerk: “What will it be?”

Me: “Footlong on white, please.”

Clerk: *butterflying the bread open* “Which meat?”

Me: “Before that, could you add some marinara on the bread?”

Clerk: *adds sauce only where the meat usually goes* “Sure, like this?”

Me: “Yes, for that side. Could you add the same to the other one?”

Clerk: *puzzled, flips the foot-long closed* “You mean on the crust?”

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