Your Windows Needs To Refreshed

, , , , | Working | January 13, 2019

(An employee walks up to the boss’s office, looks at the door for a few moments, and then walks over to the secretary.)

Employee: “Is the boss in?”

Secretary: “I think so. Didn’t you see him in there?”

Employee: *glancing around the corner and looking at the door again* “Well, his door is closed.”

Secretary: “Could you see him through the window?”

Employee: “I don’t know; the door is closed.”

(The secretary gets up, walks to where the employee is standing, and points through the large window in the door. You can see the boss from where they are standing, and he is sitting at the conference table with a few other people.)

Secretary: “Yes, see? The boss is in, but he is in a meeting right now.”

(The employee thanks her and leaves. I come out of my office.)

Secretary: *to me* “Did I really just have to explain windows to her?”

Seriously, Employees Need To Pee, Too

, , , , | Right | January 4, 2019

(I work at a coffee kiosk at the back of a grocery. There are bathrooms in the break room, but you’re not supposed to go there unless you’re actually on break, and they’re on the other side of the store, so when we need to use the toilet while on-shift, we use the one at the front of the store that’s shared with customers. It’s a single-person bathroom, but that’s usually not a problem because not too many customers really ever need to use it at the same time. One day, I’ve just left my counter after my coworker came back from lunch, and it’s not thirty seconds after I’ve locked the door that I hear a woman outside it.)

Woman: *tries the knob without knocking* “Ugh. Seriously?”

(I figure she can just hold on a moment, and continue to use the bathroom. Not ten seconds later…)

Woman: *louder* “Seriously?!”

(A few more seconds pass. Then, again…)


(Then, she grabs the handle and starts jerking at it like she’s trying to rip the door from the frame.)

Me: *slightly panicked because I’m not really sure the lock will hold* “I’ll be just a moment, ma’am!”

(Still, the woman keeps repeating, growing louder and louder, “Seriously? Seriously?!” I finish and flush, hoping the sound will shut her up because she’ll know I’m almost out, and yet, once again…)

Woman: *practically screaming* “SERIOUSLY?!”

(I debate taking extra long washing my hands just to spite her, but I don’t want to deal with it, so I just scrub up quick. I’ve just grabbed a paper towel when I hear the lady call through the door:)

Woman: “I’m going to call 911!”

(Then, she starts speaking quieter and sounds muffled.)

Woman: “Hello, 911?”

(I yanked the door open, thinking she was actually calling them, only to have her turn towards the door, having been facing away and hunched over, talking into her palm with no phone in sight. She looked smug, then stared me up and down with clear disgust — I assume because I was in uniform and therefore just a lowly employee — then huffed, slammed the door, and shouted once more from inside, “UGH! SERIOUSLY?!” Shaking my head, I walked back to my counter and looked at the clock. I had been away from my station for all of five minutes, including walking back and forth to the front of the store. Heads up for those who apparently don’t realize: employees need to pee, too, and there’s such a thing as a shy bladder; shouting through the door is probably just making everything take longer!)

We Accept Cash, Check, And Attempted Assault

, , , , | Right | January 3, 2019

(I’m in the sheriff’s office getting fingerprinted for a security clearance at a new job. When I walk in there is a large sign that says, “Cash, Check, or Money Order only; no Credit/Debit accepted.” I go up to the window and pay my fee with cash, the nice receptionist lady gives me a clipboard with the forms to fill out, and I sit down to fill them out. A couple of minutes after I sit down another man comes in.)

Receptionist: “Okay, sir, the fee will be $6 per card; you need two, so the total is $12.”

(The man gives her his credit or debit card.)

Receptionist: “I’m sorry, sir, we only take cash, check, or money order. No debit or credit.”

Man: *raising voice* “What? No. It doesn’t say anywhere that you can’t accept my card!”

Receptionist: “Actually, sir, there is a large sign right there that says it. In addition, it says it on our website.”

Man: *very loudly* “Listen, lady! You are going to take my card! I need these done today and I don’t have time to go get cash!”

Receptionist: “I’m sorry, sir, I cannot take your card. You need to come back with a correct form of payment!”

(The man lunges forward and tries to reach for the receptionist, who quickly backs up. Almost immediately, two uniformed sheriff deputies rush through a door and tackle the man to the ground. He fights with them for a few seconds before they get the handcuffs on, and then they drag him away. The receptionist regains her composure and sits back down. I bring my forms up to her.)

Me: “Here you go. Wow, that was crazy. It’s as if he forgot he was in the sheriff’s department or something.”

Receptionist: “Yeah. Now, in addition to not getting his fingerprint cards, he’ll have an arrest on his record and probably won’t pass whatever check his work is requiring.”

A New Year’s Resolution Guaranteed For Success

, , , , , | Right | January 1, 2019

(I’m the customer, arriving at my gym on New Year’s to cancel my membership because of scheduling issues. The employee is at the front desk helping a woman.)

Employee: “Welcome! Are you here for a tour?”

Me: “Uh, no… We’re here to cancel our membership.”

Woman: *looks shocked and bursts out laughing*

Employee: “Oh… uh…”

Me: “Our New Year resolution is to stop working out.”

A Dimple Explanation

, , , , , , | Related | December 30, 2018

(My husband and I recently had our first child. My parents are in town to help. It’s worth noting that both hubby and I have dimples when we smile.)

Mother: *looking at my son* “He is so adorable. Look at these dimples. He got them from his dad. Such a beautiful boy.”

Me: “Are you sure that he got them from his dad and not mom?”

(The mother continues cooing over the baby. Two days later, my mother is looking at our photos above the fireplace.)

Mother: “Oh, you have dimples, too. Is it something new?”

Me: “Mother, I’ve had dimples my entire life. How did you manage to not notice them?”

Mother: “So, [Child] could have gotten the dimples from you? I thought that it was all his dad’s side… Are you sure that you’ve always had dimples?”

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