My Mother The Spaghetti Monster

, , , , , | Related | September 7, 2018

(I have lived as the person who did the cooking and cleaning for several years, before having to move back in with my mum due to circumstances. I’m in my late 20s. My mum is going out for dinner tonight.)

Mum: “I’ve put a single portion of Bolognese in the fridge for you for tea.”

Me: *used to her not allowing me to cook for myself* “Okay.”

Mum: “You just need to heat it up.”

Me: “Okay.”

Mum: “You need to heat it up slowly. Put it on a low heat, add a little water—”

Me: “Mum, I’ve heated Bolognese before.”

Mum: “Yes, well, you need to add a little—”

Me: “Mum. I’ve reheated it before. I’ve been reheating it since the age of fourteen, as it’s your go-to ‘I’m going to be out this evening; food is in the fridge’ item. You don’t need to tell me.”

(There is a pause.)

Mum: “There’s spaghetti in the cupboard. If you boil the kettle—”

Me: “I know how to do that, too! I AM AN ADULT!”

Mum: “But you’ll always be my little girl!”

(She proceeded to tell me how to cook spaghetti.)

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All Doctors To Procreation Stations!

, , , , , | Healthy | August 2, 2018

(I’ve been having stabbing pains in my abdomen and eventually go, by myself, to the doctor surgery. I am also a “Miss,” as in, not married.)

Doctor: “I see you have PCOS. This pain could just be that.”

Me: “I know there’s pain related to that, but it’s not in the right places and does not feel the same.”

Doctor: “Okay.”

(He’s reading my notes, which surprises me, as other doctors at this surgery don’t.)

Doctor:  “You know, it’s not as bad as you may think. There’s a lot we can do now to make sure you can have children now.” *goes on a really long spiel about getting pregnant and having kids, etc.* “Do you want me to arrange an appointment to discuss it with [Doctor]? Or would you like to discuss it with your partner first?”

Me: *thoroughly bewildered* “Um… No, thanks.”

Doctor: “You should talk to your partner about it. He might want kids whilst you’re both young.”

(He went on about PCOS more and having kids, before going back to the reason I was there in the first place. I get making sure I knew that there were options for kids in the future, but I don’t have a partner, and don’t want kids –which he didn’t check before going on about it — and that wasn’t the reason why I was there.)

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The Demands Fell Right In His Lap

, , , , , , | Right | July 20, 2018

(I am a customer in this one, at a popular pizza chain with a friend. We have spent the day shopping and are getting a bite for dinner. There is a family at the next table across from us, and the husband is kicking off at everything. When they order drinks he screams at the waitress because he says she got his order wrong. He keeps saying they got things wrong or that they’ve had to wait for a long time — it is Friday night and it is the dinner time rush — and he just keeps being really rude. It is obvious he is just trying to eat for free, because he keeps saying he ordered something different when we and his wife know they’ve brought exactly what he ordered. The wife is sitting there, just getting so pissed off, begging him to be quiet. She keeps trying to correct him, saying, “But that’s what you ordered,” but he keeps telling her to shut up.)

Wife: “Will you stop making a scene? I just wanted a nice family dinner.”

Husband: “Shut up! When I come for a meal and pay this much for a bit of bread with some cheese and tomato on it, which probably only cost them a few pennies, I demand nothing less than perfection!”

(The waitress heads over with refills the husband ordered. She looks close to tears; the guy has gotten nastier as the night progresses, and has begun to call her names. Even the manager is keeping close by, ready to chuck him out, but he waits. The waitress is in such a rush to get him his drink so he can finish and go that she trips just as she gets to the table, and the glasses clatter over on the table near the husband. Luckily, most of the liquid misses him and he only gets a few splotches on his knee, but that is it. He explodes in a fit of rage. The manager comes over when he starts shouting obscenities. The wife looks so fed up, angry, and embarrassed.)

Manager: “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m going to have to ask you to keep it down and watch your language; this is a family restaurant. I’ll make sure all your drinks are free, and throw in free desserts for everyone. Just please keep calm. If you have any problems I’ll be happy to help.”

Husband: “The service has been s*** all night. I want all my meal for free! I shouldn’t have to pay for this s***!”

Manager: “I can’t promise that, but I’ll see what I can do.”

(The husband seems calmer, and he smiles as the waitress and the manager bustle off to get him new drinks and desserts. The wife is just steaming.)

Husband: “You wait; I’ll get our entire meal for free.”

(The wife just sits there fuming. Their poor kids just look unhappy because everyone in the restaurant is staring and muttering about their dad. The waitress comes over with drinks and very carefully sets them down. The husband says nothing. Then, the wife takes his soda with lots of ice in it and just tips it into his lap, very slowly. The poor waitress looks horrified, but everyone in the restaurant cheers.)

Wife: “Bring us the bill; we’ll pay for it all. I’m really sorry.”

(The wife reaches into her purse and hands the waitress a £20 note.)

Wife: “That’s for you. Hardly enough for putting up with his s*** all evening, but at least you only have to put up with it tonight. I’ve had to live with this a**hole for ten years now.”

(I’ve always hated creeps who go to a restaurant angling to get a free meal. It was nice to see one get his comeuppance. I just hope the wife divorced him. I know I would have.)

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You Owe Me An Explanation

, , , , , | Right | July 12, 2018

(I am on reception at a leisure centre that has various activities going on at once. It is very busy, as it is the Easter holidays, and it’s raining. An old lady comes up to the desk with her grandson:)

Customer: *in a very quiet voice* “What do I owe you?”

Me: *leaning towards her to be able to hear her* “Sorry?”

Customer: “What do I owe you?”

Me: *still with my head leaning over the counter and whispering too* “I don’t know. You haven’t told me what you want to do.”

Customer: *suddenly louder* “Well, I have never been here before, so I don’t know what to do!”

Me: *in my head* “Perhaps tell me what you want to do before I charge you! I have to do this mad, crazy thing called ‘put information into the till’!”

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Unfiltered Story #116233

, , , | Unfiltered | July 6, 2018

I was Lifeguarding today and had this question…

Customer: ‘How fast is your slide?’