This Church Is Grassroots

, , , , , , | Related | December 13, 2018

My family lives right down the street from a large church, which we pass on our way to our own church, school, and the store where we shop; basically, we pass it pretty much every day.

When I was in grade school, the church began a large expansion project to add a new wing onto the building. They dug a large hole in the ground next to the building, which I figured was going to be the basement for the new wing. Every day when I passed by the church, either in the car or the school bus, I would look at the hole to see if they had started building the new wing in it yet. Several months went by, and I saw nothing — still just a hole in the ground, even though there seemed to be workers there every day.

One day, while I was riding in the car with my mom, I said to her, “They still haven’t started building that new church yet!” And she responded, “Yes, they have; what do you call that?” She pointed to the side of the church opposite from the hole… where the new wing stood, completely finished.

Yes, that’s right: I had been so distracted looking at the hole every time I passed the church that I had completely missed the new wing going up right before my eyes. It turns out that the hole was actually just a large drainage ditch, which they just happened to be digging at the same time the construction was going on. In hindsight, I should have been clued in by the fact that they had spread grass seed in the hole, but my only thought upon noticing that was, “Why do they want grass in the basement?”

After A Few Hundred Years, A Guy Can’t Change His Look?

, , , , , | Learning | December 13, 2018

One day during class, it being near Christmas, we are given a picture of Santa Claus to color. Santa is sitting on a chair, relaxing, and eating cookies, while reading a list. Seeing this, I decide that Santa must be off-duty, so I color him orange. After all, Santa must get tired of his uniform, right?

Later that day, I am called to the teacher’s desk with three other students and told we are in trouble. Our crimes? I, of course, colored Santa orange, instead of red. Another student had colored him red, but with green gloves. The last student had colored Santa black.

I don’t remember if she called my parents or not, but all three of us had to sit out recess that day.

Cents-less Not To Help

, , , , , , , | Hopeless | December 12, 2018

A few months ago, I took my little sister grocery shopping at a place we’d known since our childhood. I was on a tight budget, but I was happy to spend time with her, so we added a few more items than I could really afford. When we got to the register, I realized I was over a few dollars. Removing a few items got me down to where I was only a few cents over budget, and as I paid, I searched for those extra cents that would cover the rest.

Not finding them, I grabbed my card, only to be presented with the receipt and a smile. The cashier had covered it out of her own pocket. Thinking about it now brings a lump to my throat, and thanks to her generous spirit, I recovered my dwindling faith in humanity.

He’s About To Get A Chile Reception

, , , , , , | Legal | December 12, 2018

This story happened to my sister. We are from Chile, but she was traveling in Europe when this happened. She got onto a train in Prague and a random guy got into the compartment where she was, and started to talk very fast in English. He told her that he had to go to the next city because of an emergency and that he would have to leave his wife alone without a penny. They only had one credit card he would need for the trip, so he needed cash. He promised my sister that if she gave something, he would return it when they arrive at the next station.

My sister realised that this was a scam from the first moment, but she was afraid that he could do something to her, as she was traveling alone. In that moment she remembered that she had some Chilean money, so she took her wallet and timidly said, “I only have Chilean money on me right now; I would love to help you, so here you go,” and she handed him 1000 Chilean pesos — a little more than a US dollar.

When the guy saw the 1000, he got the biggest smile of victory and hurried down the train never to be seen again.

To this day we laugh at the guy, thinking about his face the day he went to the money exchange and they give him just a Euro.

Throw The Books At Him

, , , , , | Legal | December 11, 2018

I happen to work at a library that has its fair share of, well, interesting people. And by “interesting,” I mean “dangerous and unpredictable.” We have the ignominious distinction of being the only library in the area that has a full-time security staff.

One regular is a guy who likes to stalk, bully, sexually harass, and intimidate women while drunk on alcohol. Technically, people can come to my library off-their-rear-ends drunk, and we’re not allowed to kick them out unless they prove disruptive, which is beyond stupid, if you ask me. This guy comes up to me and tries to bully me into giving him a dollar to buy headphones. I tell him no, because A, not library policy, and B, he is responsible for his own personal needs. He reacts so loudly and violently that I try to call 911, but I can’t get a signal. He thinks that’s hilarious, and laughs in my face while reeking of vodka. He actually has the gall to drink it right in front of me! I finally get the guy to back off, but he still goes out of his way to be a bullying jerk the entire time.

Later, after we close, I see him hanging around outside. He keeps approaching random women who are sitting down, and shouting in their faces, still visibly drunk. Not liking where this is going, I call 911 on my cell phone. The cops show up six minutes later. I have already left so I didn’t see him get arrested.

I tell my boss what happened. He agrees we should ban him from the property for ninety days for his behavior. Two weeks later, I have the happy pleasure of serving him the paperwork. He tries to wriggle out of it, claiming his identity was stolen, but he still leaves.

Fast forward about three months. Management decides to rescind the ban, thinking he’s been punished adequately.

He thinks that he can get away with the same stuff as before, so he decides to call a little old lady a sexual slur for the fun of it, while drunk again. Only this time, the old lady decides to complain to a female police officer who happens to be in the building. The officer drags the guy by the arm to escort him out of the building. He is loudly asking what law has he broken, and using all kinds of terrible language, when he suddenly reaches into his pocket. Because she’s a cop, this ends with her wrestling him to the ground and holding him there. The whole time she’s waiting for backup, he won’t stop screaming about how he’s going to sue everyone, calling the officer all kinds of sexual and racial slurs, and causing quite the large crowd to gather, me included. I smile enormously as he sits there and suffers the full penalty for his sins.

I get to watch as ten cops — ten! — show up in six minutes.

I don’t care how much hate it gets me. I enjoy that immensely.

This time, he’s banned for a year. And if he tries to sneak in again — which is not uncommon — I will have the pleasure of reminding him what took place that day.

I don’t think he’ll try anything.

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