Right Working Romantic Related Learning Friendly Healthy Legal Inspirational Unfiltered

Cashing Out For Christmas

, , | Related | January 1, 2017

My birthday is New Year’s Day, and therefore, a week after Christmas. Since adults don’t want to drag screaming kids to a birthday party after partying on NYE, we’d either have my party around Christmas, or the weekend following New Year’s.

A cousin brings me a gift on Christmas, and proudly announces it is my Christmas and birthday gift.

My parents have always been good at making sure that though they are close together, the two events are celebrated separately.

My dad mentions it is exactly what they got my brothers for Christmas, and that I’m still owed a birthday gift.

“But the stores are closed!”

Without missing a beat, Dad replied “So you’re getting him cash, then.”

The Lack Of A Sign Was A Bad Sign

, , | Friendly | December 28, 2016

My husband, son, I, and our very large dog (100lb+) have decided to spend the morning at the beach. We’ve been to that beach several times before and none of the signage said dogs are forbidden; the only sign to mention dogs simply states that they must be leashed at all times.

After we have been there for about two hours, two teenagers in [National Park] t-shirts approach and rather rudely orders us off the beach, claiming that dogs aren’t allowed.

We are more than a bit put out by the unnecessary attitude and their claims, so we tell them that we will be waiting right where we are for their supervisor to come speak with us. After an almost 20 minute wait the supervisor comes over and, with no attitude at least, tries telling us the same bit about dogs not being allowed. After a bit of conversation we finally find out that there, supposedly, is in fact a “no dogs allowed on the beach” sign… buried under a rock slide at the end of a closed off, dead end walkway, the rockslide having happened two years before! I still don’t know how on earth we were expected to have known about that.

The icing on the cake was when at least three different people walked by us, their very small dogs with them, while we were talking with the supervisor, and she wouldn’t say a word to them despite us pointing it out.

If a rule is a rule then it should apply to everyone. It also shouldn’t be hidden like a game collectable either.

A Bit Too Much Hasa Diga Eebowai

, , | Friendly | December 27, 2016

Last year, a friend of mine and I go to see “The Book of Mormon,” a raunchy, funny musical about two Mormon missionaries trying to convert the people of an African village.

Partway through the performance, a prop breaks at the beginning of a scene, stopping the play short. An announcement goes out to the audience that they are experiencing some minor technical difficulties, and that the play will resume once they are fixed. After the announcement ends, a murmur rises as everyone starts talking among themselves. A couple moments later, a random man in the audience shouts, “IT’S THE WILL OF GOD!”

Everyone lost it, including my friend and me. The entire audience is laughing. My friend is actually sitting at such an angle that she saw the guy shout, so we knew it wasn’t just the announcer again. It was a brilliant moment of improv that probably stopped a lot of people from getting frustrated at the play’s technical issues.

Ten minutes later, the problems were fixed, and the play resumed like nothing happened. It was a great, very funny play, but that guy’s comment is the part we remember best. Cheers to you, random guy, wherever you are.

The Boss Didn’t Record Your Request

, , , | Working | December 27, 2016

It is Christmas 1988.

I have a recording studio based out of a big studio rehearsal complex in South London and have been working for three days on recording and producing some backing tapes for a client, who also happens to be an old friend. The last day we spend on the mixdowns and at about 9:30, we decide to take a timeout and go to the local pub for some refreshment, to rest our ears, and to generally chew over what we’ve done. While we are blowing the froth off a couple, another old friend along with his significant other turns up. Since we all know each other, we decide to carry on until closing time.

As it is getting late, I suggest we all go back to the studio, listen to the mixes we’ve done, and call it a day. As we are walking down the main corridor, we come across the studio manager who is busy restocking the beer machine in the green room. I tell him that we are just going downstairs to listen to what we’ve been doing and wrap things up. I also tell him not to lock up before checking with me.

We settle down and listen to the first track. At the end, one of our party has to go to the loo and so he goes off in search of relief while we carry on. The second track has barely started playing when he comes back saying that all the security gates in the corridor are locked and the lights are off!

Thinking this is a monumental wind-up I go to investigate… and sure enough, the lights are off and the gates closed up tighter than a nervous sphincter attempting to rein in the purgative effects of a themonuclear-grade vindaloo. As I go back downstairs to the studio, I also notice that the rear fire exit doors have been chained up. I try to call the studio owner but get no joy, so we sit there for a while trying to work out what to do. My friend in particular is rather concerned as he is off to the Middle East first thing in the morning to start shooting a commercial.

Eventually I decide the only hope was to call the Fire Brigade and get them to break down the fire exit doors. Twenty minutes go past… No Fire Brigade. Thirty minutes… You guessed it. By this time, I have lost my patience, so grabbing my toolbox I go upstairs to the fire exit and proceed to dismantle the entire thing from the inside. I eventually manage to get it open only to be confronted by a big burly fireman about to lay into the door with a fire axe. I manage to avoid being sliced in two by the simple expedient of stepping rapidly to one side. The rest of the firemen enter and check out the entire building while I regale the lead officer with our tale of woe, much to his evident amusement.

As you might imagine, I am not best pleased with the incident so the next day about lunchtime, I storm into the office — small portable thundercloud in tow — and in front of the studio owner and his wife proceed to lay down some serious and heavy invective upon the head of the hapless studio manager, calling into question his dubious parentage, and threatening to attach his gonads to the output terminals of the largest Class A power amplifier I can find if there is ever a repeat of the entire sorry débâcle.

The studio owner is none too pleased either, having been read the riot act by the Fire Brigade that morning. He is also furious that, in order to deal with the considerable fallout from the incident, he’s had to cancel the flight he’d booked to the States for that evening, which means that he and his wife aren’t going to be able to visit their family until the New Year.

The flight he was booked on — but had to cancel — was Pan Am 103.

Someone Had A Very Happy Holidays

, , | Right | December 22, 2016

It is just a little before Christmas, I’m outside pushing carts, when a coworker asks me to check a strange black garbage bag that had been sitting next to her car all day.

Not being 100% clear of the regulations regarding random black garbage bags, I open it up to find inside a large piece of machinery. After a few moments, I lift up something that is instantly identifiable as a sex toy, which makes me realize that I am in the presence of a much larger mechanical sex toy.

I looked at my watch and see that my shift is thankfully now up, go inside, clock out, and go home. I found out later that the two night supervisors had to take care of it.

I was having no part of that.