A Negative Impact On Your Grades

, | TX, USA | Learning | April 17, 2017

I’ve just completed the group’s PowerPoint by myself. The presentation goes okay. They know enough not to just read my slides, at least.

Afterwards, we are asked to fill out a review sheet evaluating each others’ performance. Against my better instincts, I answer honestly.

A week passes, and my group is happy to get As. Guess what I get? B minus. I ask my teacher why, and she responds with this gem:

“Your group members said you had a lot of negativity towards the end of the project.”

A Hot Slice Of Justice Is Required

, , , , | CA, USA | Working | April 16, 2017

Years ago I worked at a popular chain coffee shop. I was born and raised and still live in one of the most expensive areas in the country. At the time I have gone back to college full-time, so I work full-time as well to try to keep up with my bills. Most of my coworkers are teenagers who live with their parents, with two other exceptions besides me. The company launches a new promotional program for a paid incentive card and offers a competition of sorts to try to sell memberships with cash prizes for the stores that sell the most in the district at the end of the introductory period.

To motivate us the store manager says if we win anything, the staff members will split any cash prize the store earns. My fellow rent-paying coworkers and I knew that money would go far for us, so we all hustled like crazy and sold memberships to as many customers as we could. Our store ends up coming in first in the district. And then our manager says he has changed his mind about splitting the prize and will use the money to throw a staff pizza party instead.

The three of us who were counting on the cash were understandably pissed off, but given how we were all hand-to-mouth we weren’t about to turn down the free food. We weren’t any less pissed off when a few weeks later, the coworker who picked up the food told us what it had cost. Which made us realize that the manager had not in fact spent even close to the whole prize total on the ‘celebration,’ but pocketed almost half of it for himself.

An Arms-Length Away From Disaster

, , , | Duncan, BC, Canada | Friendly | April 16, 2017

I took Karate classes in elementary school. One time when I was around 10, I was sparring with a younger classmate. I threw a punch, which stopped a hair’s breadth away from his nose. I could feel his breath on my knuckles and we froze for a moment, both of us staring wide-eyed at my fist. My Sensei ended the round, awarded me the point, and complimented me on my excellent use of control.

I was too embarrassed to admit that control had nothing to do with it. My arm was fully extended; if I’d had a longer arm or been standing an inch closer, he would have had a broken nose, and I would have been doing push-ups for weeks.

They’re Nacho What’s Going On

, | Norway | Related | April 13, 2017

I’ve just gotten a bowl of nachos at the counter and am on my way upstairs to our table when someone on their way down reaches out and snatches a chip out of my bowl.

I turn around to see my cousin, flanked by two confused-looking classmates of hers, grinning as she pops the chip in her mouth. I shoot her a quick pouty-face before turning and continuing on my way.

She later tells me she had a good laugh about her classmates, as they didn’t know who I was and thought that my cousin had a habit of snatching food off complete stranger’s plates.

This Conversation Died

, | Norway | Friendly | April 13, 2017

We’re about an hour in on a five-hour bus ride to [City]. This is a trip I take frequently, as my daughter lives there. Next to me is a woman in her early 20s who also frequents this route. Having talked to her a few times previously, I know she’s a quiet but polite person, and probably on her way to visit her parents. She’s reading and listening to music, and looks like she wants to be left alone.

Unfortunately she’s drawn the attention of two young men around her age sitting across the aisle from us, and they’ve been trying to engage her in conversation, asking questions and what not. Her answers, although polite, have been short and uninterested up until this point.

She gets enough and firmly tells them that she is not interested in conversation and wants to get back to her book. She’s in the process of re-inserting her earphones when one of the guys whispers to the other “who died and made her head bitch?”. She turns to look at them, and in an angry but calm way, she says, “my grandmother.” She then goes back to her book and music as if nothing’s happened, and the guys fall silent.

I talked to her about an hour or so later; she was on her way to the funeral.

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