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We Should All Have A Sausage Man As A Friend

, , , , , | Related | February 7, 2018

(I am at a restaurant with my dad. He’s in his 60s, and not an unintelligent person, but he never did well in school, and he frequently asks me how to spell certain words. He also has a very… unusual sense of humor.)

Dad: “[My Name], how do you spell ‘sausage’?”

Me: “S-A-U-S-A-G-E.”

Dad: “Thank you. I’m texting my friend Jim the Sausage Man.”

(He went on texting as if that was a totally normal thing to say.)

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Starter For Ten

, , , , | Right | February 5, 2018

Patient: “I wanted to give you my new number.”

Employee #1: “Okay, whenever you’re ready.”

Patient: *navigates through phone menu* “[Number], [number], [number], four, six, one, ten.”

Employee #1: “Uh, can you give that to me again? I think we have an extra digit in there.”

Patient: *navigates through phone menu again* “[Number], [number], [number], four, six, one, ten.”

Employee #1: “Okay, you’re giving me eight digits. Can you just read me out the actual numbers?”

Patient: *navigates through phone menu again* “Uh, I have to get to it again! [Number], [number], [number], four, six, one, ten.”

Employee #1: “That’s still eight digits.”

Employee #2: “Why don’t you try calling us and we’ll see if it pops up on the caller ID?”

Patient: *fumbling with phone* “I don’t think I have any minutes!”

Employee #1: “Do you want me to take a look at the screen and see if I can figure it out?”

Patient: *navigates through phone menu AGAIN*  “Okay, it’s [number], [number], [number], five, four, six, one, ten.”

Employee #1: “Now that’s nine digits.”

Patient: “Let me write it down!”

(The patient wrote down [number], [number], [number], four, six, one, zero.)

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Dinner Before Derriere

, , , , , , | Healthy | January 31, 2018

(It’s my very first appointment with a GYN Oncologist, and he has to examine my tumor, which has grown in the space “between the playground and the sewer.” There is a female nurse attending who is slightly older than both the doctor and me.)

Doctor: “Unfortunately, [My Name], I’m going to have to do a rectal exam, also.”

Me: *resigned to it, but salty* “Whoa! On the first date, even!”

Older Nurse: *totally taken aback* “But this is a safe date! This is for your health and well-being!” *several more comments indicating that she’s horrified at what I said*

Doctor: *never missing a beat* “Yeah, but I didn’t even buy her dinner!”

(Gotta love a doctor with a sense of humour!)

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Nothing Plain About This Order

, , , | Working | December 7, 2017

(I am in the car with my mother and brother, and we stop by the drive-thru of a popular chain coffee and donut shop.)

Employee: “Welcome to [Restaurant]. How may I help you?”

Mom: “Could I have a small white hot chocolate and a small plain hot chocolate, please?”

Employee: “Okay, so, two large hot chocolates?”

Mom: “No. A small white hot chocolate and a small plain hot chocolate.”

Employee: “So, a small white hot chocolate and a large plain hot chocolate?”

Mom: “No! A small white hot chocolate and a small plain hot chocolate.”

Employee: “Two small plain hot chocolates?”

Mom: “NO! A small white hot chocolate and a small plain hot chocolate, please!”

(Much to our alarm/amusement, the employee begins laughing!)

Employee: “Okay, a small white hot chocolate and a small plain hot chocolate?”

Mom: “YES. Thank you!”

(To this day I still have no idea what was going through that employee’s mind. I sure do know what was going through my mom’s!)

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A Needling Suspicion You Did That Wrong

, , | Healthy | November 3, 2017

(I am donating blood at a traveling clinic that has come to my college. I have a rather intense needle phobia and like to use donating blood as a way to get over this fear just as much as an opportunity to help others. However, when the needle is in me I become visibly tense and my breathing quickens. Sometimes the nurses worry that I am going to pass out or go into shock, so I always warn them about my fear, assure them that I will NOT pass out, that I’m just anxious, and ask them to count to three before they stick me, which reduces my anxiety. They are usually very understanding of this request.)

Nurse: “Okay, we’re all set now. You’re just going to feel a pinch and a sting.”

Me: “Can you please count before you do it?”

Nurse: *legitimately confused about this request* “Count? Why?”

Me: “I have a bit of a needle phobia. I’m not going to pass out; I just don’t want to be surprised by the needle.”

Nurse: *still with a confused expression* “Okay…”

(She then proceeds to count to three as fast as she can… WHILE she is already sticking me with the needle. Lo and behold, I panic, push myself several inches up in the chair, and feel tears begin to stream from my eyes involuntarily.)

Nurse: “Oh! Well, I didn’t know you were gonna jump up in your chair like that!”

(She leaves to tend to other donors. I begin to calm down, but tears are still streaming down my face as a result of the unpleasant surprise.)

Nurse: *coming back to check on me, notices my face* “Is… is something sad going on in your life right now?”

Me: “Nothing other than the nightmares I’m gonna have tonight…”

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