Sibling Rivalry Doesn’t Even Require Siblings To Be Present

, , , , , | Friendly | May 18, 2018

(I decide to get my Bachelor’s at the same university that my siblings went to, and I end up at the same on-campus residence. For the most part, this is fine, except for one thing: one of the residents was also at the residence with my older sister, and she keeps assuming that my sister and I like the same things, since we’re related. I keep trying to emphasize that we’re different people, but she never seems to clue in. Then, one night at dinner…)

Resident: “Hey, [My Name]! I’m putting together a volleyball team. Would you like to join?

Me: “No, thanks. I’m not interested in sports. Besides, I have the coordination of a drunk panda.”

Resident: “Really? I thought you’d love volleyball. After all, your sister played on the state team!”

Me: “All right, clearly I need to reintroduce myself.” *I lean over the table to shake her hand* “Hi! My name is [My Name]. I like horses, Doctor Who, reading, and the occasional Dungeons and Dragons campaign. You seem to have me confused with [Sister], the volleyball player, painter, and singer. However, despite the fact that we’re related… and I can’t stress this enough… WE ARE NOT THE SAME PERSON!”

(To [Resident]’s credit, from that point on, she made an effort to learn what I liked, and she got much better about not comparing me to my siblings.)

Well, That Experience Has Gone Right Down The Toilet

, , , , , , | Working | May 14, 2018

(I am a manager of a kid’s play area, and during weekdays we have minimal staff in the afternoons, as it gets rather quiet. We each have our own specific closing duties like tills, cleaning kitchens, toilets, etc. but we have a great team and any of the workload we have that is non-managerial is shared so no one is left behind. We also have high school students join us for a week here and there for work experience, and they are mostly a pleasure to deal with. I am about to clean the toilets when the work experience girl says she is finished with her tasks and asks what she could do next.)

Me: “Well, I know [Coworker] is on time with her tasks, and I need to get a wriggle on with the tills, but I have to do the toilets first. I know they’re not everyone’s favourite task, and since you’re on work experience I’ll go easy on you; do you think it’s something you’d like to tackle?”

Work Experience Girl: “Yeah, I don’t mind at all. I haven’t done it before; can you show me what to do?”

Me: “No problem.”

(I explained what to do and where to find gloves, buckets, and other cleaning supplies. Just in case it isn’t super obvious, it only involves cleaning the bowls, basins, and mirrors, sweeping, and mopping. There are only seven toilets, and my coworker and I are on top of cleaning them throughout the day, so they’re pretty clean already and it usually takes ten minutes. Since she’d never done it before, I imagined it might take longer. She seemed cheerful enough and set to work. After ten minutes, she was done and asked me to check them. They were spotless and I was impressed. I told her so and she beamed. Since there were only my own managerial duties to go and I was nearly finished, I said she could take the last ten minutes as an early mark and gave her a lemonade on the house. I finished up the night’s tasks and I thought nothing of it. The next day, I got a call from the owner, who told me that the work experience girl was not coming back. Apparently, her father had called the school complaining that she was distraught. She was incredibly upset that we would lock her in the toilets and not let her out until they were spotless. She had to clean toilets with her bare hands and wasn’t allowed to wash her hands after. The school decided they would no longer offer our play area as an option for work experience kids. I was too shocked to reply.)

With No Bacon Comes No Responsibility

, , , , , | Working | May 3, 2018

(My partner and I are house-sitting for a family member. We decide to be lazy and order a pizza online for delivery from a local pizza joint. When we sit down to eat it, it is apparent that the bacon and basil we paid extra to receive are absent, so I call them to work out what to do. I don’t let injustices slide, even little ones.)

Me: “Hey there! I’ve just had my pizza delivered, and it didn’t come with the bacon and basil I added on.”

Worker: *after verifying my order and details* “We’re sorry about that. Let me just check with my manager.”

(I am on hold for literally eight and a half minutes.)

Worker: “We can credit you for when you next get pizza.”

Me: “Sorry, but we’re not from around here, so that won’t work. Can we just have the money refunded for the extras we didn’t receive?”

Worker: “Let me check.”

(They put me on hold for another three minutes.)

Worker: *very snarkily* “We can’t do that. It’s just like a dollar, though.”

Me: “It may not seem like much money, but that’s my money. It’s three dollars that I paid to your business for goods that I did not receive. The only solution I can think of is a refund for what I did not receive.”

Worker: *still heaps snarky* “Fine. I’ll check.”

(And they put me on hold for another few minutes.)

Worker: “We’ll get a delivery driver to bring your precious dollar, okay?” *hangs up*

(We then had to wait up for a delivery driver to receive our money — and not the right amount. All we wanted was what we paid for. It’s a shame that was too much to ask. And lady, it wasn’t my error, it was your business’s. There was almost enough saltiness in your demeanour to replace the bacon I ordered.)

They’re Gunning For God

, , , , , | Friendly | May 1, 2018

(I live in a small town where one church sends members around to people’s houses. My family is technically Church of England, but we are not religious. This church’s members are extremely persistent. I am around eight years old, and my grandparents have a farm. Two church members park their car at the locked gate, climb the gate, and walk down the long driveway to the house. My grandparents have rung the church and sent letters asking them not to come onto the property, but they keep doing it week after week. My grandfather has warned them.)

Grandfather: *hearing the dogs barking* “G**d*** it. I’ve warned them.”

(He then goes to the cupboard where he keeps the shotgun for putting cattle down, culling kangaroos, etc., and goes outside and sits on the front porch steps with the shotgun behind him, out of sight of the two guys. I’m curious as to what’s going on, so I go to watch. As the men get close enough…)

Grandfather: “I’ve warned you. Now you have one minute to get off my property before I shoot.”

(He points the shotgun at them. I’ve never seen two people move so quickly in my life. They run up the driveway, jump the gate, and are gone in about a minute. About an hour later, two local cops come.)

Cop #1: “Now, [Grandfather], you can’t be doing that.”

Grandfather: “I’ve warned them numerous times and contacted the church. Plus, it wasn’t loaded.”

(This is true. As the farm is no longer a working farm, just a home, he doesn’t keep it loaded.)

Cop #2: *trying not to laugh* “Still, you’ll have to go to court over this.”

(My grandfather does have to go to the court, where the judge gives him a $100 fine, makes him hand in the gun, and tells him not to do it again. The church members never return. The second incident happens when I am about 19. As I’ve never really been religious and none of my housemates are, I would just ignore them, but this day they happen to catch me coming home. As I’m about to open the front door:)

Church Member: “Excuse me. Do you have a moment?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I’m not religious, and no one here is. Please don’t come here again.”

(I open the door and step inside.)

Church Member: “Wait, if you’re not religious, how do you think the world was created, then? Surely you don’t think the big bang or evolution is the answer?”

Me: *sick of them already* “To be honest, I think we’re just a ‘big brother’ experiment for aliens. We’re here for their entertainment. Whenever an earthquake or something happens it’s because they’re bored.”

(I shut the door. My housemate, who heard the whole thing, can’t stop laughing.)

Housemate: “That’s better than the guy who pointed a shotgun at them a few years ago.”

Me: “Yep, that was my grandfather. I’m just a little more diplomatic.”

Housemate: “Seriously? That even made the newspaper!”

(They never came back to my house, either.)

Being Clean And Dirty At The Same Time

, , , , , , | Romantic | April 22, 2018

(My husband and I are taking advantage of the kids being asleep to get intimate. Having not folded laundry in a week, we’ve accumulated a pile of it, which we have pushed off the bed first. We’ve just gotten naked and are now on the bed. I am face-down.)

Me: *coquettishly* “Now what are you going to do to me?”

Husband: *whisper-laughing* “Make you fold the laundry.”

Me: *laughing* “And they say romance is dead!”

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