Unconventional At A Convention

, , , , , , | Hopeless | May 11, 2018

My friends and I are walking through the dealer’s room at a convention when one friend spies a booth selling blind boxes of character figures from his favorite video game. Blind boxes have a set of figures they could contain, but the buyer doesn’t know exactly which one they get when they purchase it. My friend is super excited, since the game is somewhat older and the blind box figures are no longer being made, making them semi-rare. He only has enough money to buy two boxes, and he opens them as soon as he gets them. By chance, both blind boxes contain the same character figurine.

Before we can walk away, the owner of the booth stops us. He holds out an unopened blind box and offers to exchange one of my friend’s figures for it, giving him the chance to get something different. My friend takes him up on the offer, and the rest of us are so impressed by the owner’s actions that each of us finds something to buy from his booth.  

It’s a convention tradition now to seek out that booth and buy something from it. Everybody won that day: my friend got a figurines of his two favorite characters, we found a great place to get our convention snacks, and the family that owns the booth gained a group of loyal customers!

Making A Veal Out Of It

, , , , , , , | Working | May 11, 2018

The manager of the cafeteria for the dorms I lived in was notorious for picking the cheapest food he could get, regardless of whether students wanted to eat it.

One such food was breaded veal cutlets, which few students wanted. His “solution” to this problem was to not allow students to take other foods unless they took the veal, as well. Of course, this meant most of it went straight to the trash. To add insult to injury, the cafeteria was full of posters with quotes about how students should not waste food and how people in other countries were starving.

One day, when veal was served for the fourth time in a month, I went around and asked everyone for their veal. I ended up with a tray with a two-foot high mountain of veal that must have weighed about 20 pounds. I then wrote, “No More Veal,” on a napkin, pinned it to the top of the pile of meat with a knife, and sent it through the dishwashing line.

Apparently, the message was received, as we did not have veal again for about three months.

H2-Slow, Part 18

, , , , , | Friendly | May 10, 2018

I noticed a car stopped on the side of the road with the hood open and smoke coming out of the engine, so I pulled in behind it. I got out and approached the driver, asking him if he needed anything, wanted a ride into town — about another 3km — needed to borrow my phone, etc.

He said that his engine was overheating, he thought he was low on coolant, and he was just hoping to let it cool down and try to limp it into town. I asked if some water would help get it there, and he said it probably would. I went back to my car and got out one of the 5L bottles of water I keep stashed inside, and handed it to him. He promptly undid the lid, turned it upside down, and poured it directly all over his still-smoking engine. Then, he smiled and thanked me.

I backed away slowly, maintaining eye contact, then got in my car and out of there as quickly as I could!

Related:
H2-Slow, Part 17
H2-Slow, Part 16
H2-Slow, Part 15

Kindness Is Thicker Than Water

, , , , , , , , | Hopeless | May 9, 2018

It was the second to last day of a summer scheme my best friend and I were attending. That day they had a water fight. Even though there was a “ceasefire in the refill zone” rule, most people didn’t obey it. I had just got outside, the last to do so, and a boy with a bucket spotted me. He cornered me and called out to his friend, who also had a bucket, “Target practice!” And they started soaking me.

After I managed to escape, I grabbed a squirty-foam-pole-thingy and ran around hitting people with it because my water gun had very little water in it and I needed to save it for revenge on the boys — at this point, they were chasing me. Combined with my best friend giving me terrible advice, and a girl who was freaking out and splashing a hose at everyone whether they were going for her or not, I wasn’t doing very well.

When I managed to hide behind a bush to gather my bearings and re-organise myself, I spotted three people: two boys and a girl. The boy was squirting the girl, who was squirting back; however, she wasn’t trying to squirt the first boy. She was trying to squirt the boy’s friend, who had nothing and was soaking wet and cowering behind his friend. I threw my squirty-foam-pole-thingy at her to temporarily distract her and quickly scooted over and gave my water gun to the boy.

“Here. It’s not got much water left, but it’ll keep you covered for the rest of the game,” I told him, and he and his friend scooted off, quickly followed by the girl, without so much as a thank you. I picked my squirty-foam-pole-thingy back up, extended it fully, and went around beating people up for the rest of the game. I even braved the hose girl.

Later, in the car on the way home, my dad told me that I was very brave to “take a water bullet” for someone I didn’t know, and that he would have me by his side in a war any day.

This Manager Has You Down In The Gutter

, , , , , | Working | May 9, 2018

When I was still a teenager, I worked for a country club. The job was very easy most nights, and the clientele was very polite. The only bad thing about it was our general manager. He was a very pompous man who would eat more than he worked and would get in screaming matches with all the staff. The chefs especially hated him because he was always trying to tell them how to do everything, when he knew nothing about food. There was one night, above all others, that encapsulates him as a manager.

We were hosting a wedding, birthday party, golf tournament, and normal dining. We were very understaffed, and I happened to be sick, so we were all floundering. My supervisor put me on the hostess stand where I wouldn’t have to strain myself too much, but I still had quite a bit to do. At one point my GM approached me and demanded I clean the bathrooms. I tend to get very confrontational when I’m sick, and I told him no. I would not be cleaning a bathroom and dealing with food. That was not part of my duties. I guess he wasn’t expecting that from a young girl, and just scampered off.

I found out the next day what had happened. At some point, one of the women in the bridal party got drunk and tried to flush multiple tampons down our toilet. Our sewage is connected to the kitchen, and sewage water from the bathroom flooded the kitchen. My manager tried to get every person on staff to clean it, but they all had the same response as me. Instead of calling in a cleaner, a plumber, or closing down for the night, he told the dishwashers to just occasionally sweep the sewage water out the back door. He closed down both bathrooms with a full house, and we continued to serve food the entire night.

After all that, this man even had the gall to write up each person who had said no to him for “insubordination.” I quit not too long after. He is still the GM, years later.

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