Jehovah’s Witless, Part 16

, , , , | | Friendly | May 15, 2019

(One day, while walking with my kid in a pram, two rather conservatively-dressed people intercept me. I immediately identify them as Jehovah’s Witnesses, as they carry a bunch of JW-published magazines each.)

Jehovah’s Witness #1: “Hello, do you have a moment to talk?”

Me: “Yes, but why don’t I save your time and mine?”

Jehovah’s Witness #2: “How so?”

Me: “See this pin?” *points at my rainbow flag pin, which I nearly always wear* “Usually, your people aren’t really interested in my people, right?”

Jehovah’s Witness #1: “What?”

Me: “I’m gay. Not about to change, not interested.”

Jehovah’s Witness #2: *goes pale and takes a step back*

Jehovah’s Witness #1: “Oh… Um…”

Me: *walks on, uninterrupted*

Jehovah’s Witless, Part 15
Jehovah’s Witless, Part 14
Jehovah’s Witless, Part 13

A Literal Body Of Evidence

, , , , , , | | Friendly | May 9, 2019

Our city has what’s called a “river valley,” which is basically a network of paths either in close proximity to or right along the major river that runs throughout the entire city. It’s a great place to go for a walk, birdwatch, go for a photoshoot, or exercise, because no matter where you live, you don’t have to go far to get away in nature. Some spots are pretty secluded, so you don’t even hear any city or traffic noise.

A few years ago, I was out for a run on one of the many paths and I approached a group of people. A couple of them were carrying a very large black bag with something obviously somewhat heavy inside of it… and it looked like a body bag! As I passed them and glanced behind me, the people carrying the bag were wearing balaclava masks! I thought for sure it was for some film production or something, and I kept glancing at the group to see if I could see cameras or anything. I didn’t, and I carried on with my run, somewhat panicked.

After I turned around and headed back — there was only one way back to where I needed to go — I saw the group again just further up from where I’d first seen them. This time, I could easily see a camera set up on a tripod, and it was clear that the group was working on filming something. I kind of laughed and waved as I passed them, but they all just laughed and laughed at me!

I get how it may have been somewhat amusing to them, but for a 25-year-old female in the middle of a run unable to see the context of the situation at first, it was definitely a bit unnerving.

If You Get Into An Argument With A Pregnant Woman, You’re Trucked

, , , , , , , | | Legal | May 8, 2019

(It’s been a bad day; my father had a stroke yesterday and is having brain surgery today, and I am nine months pregnant with my third child and just a had a scary meeting with a mean doctor wanting to induce me. I’m stressed, tired, and emotional. I’m sitting in my parked car, gathering my thoughts, when a truck drives past too close and scrapes my car. It keeps driving, so I leap out of the car and wave it down; it’s hard to miss me in my current state. The driver gets out of the car. He looks barely sixteen — not old enough to drive that big a truck.)

Me: “Um, you scraped my car.”

Driver: “Oh, sorry.”

(Due to my state of mind, I don’t remember all the details I am supposed to get. We take a photo of each other’s licenses, which confirms the driver is sixteen, and the damage on my car. I’m trying to be nice because the guy is so young.)

Me: “Okay, well, I hope your day gets better from here.”

Driver: “I don’t know. I’m having a pretty bad day.”

(Thinking of my poor dad and looking at my pregnant tummy, I decide to ignore that, and we part ways. Seconds after he drives away, I realize I don’t have a phone number or the truck’s registration. I call my husband in a panic; he writes a letter to the driver asking for the details and sends it to the address on the license. He quickly receives an emailed response stating the driver “wasn’t at fault that night” — it happened at nine am — and that I had told him I wouldn’t be pursuing the matter — I never did — and he refuses to give the information. We’re at a loss what to do. Without the truck registration, the insurance company will have to charge us excess for the repairs, which we don’t want to pay. The insurance company suggests physically visiting the address or contacting the local police. I go for the latter option and visit the local police station. The police officer takes all the details, then spends ten minutes on her computer and phone before coming back to me.)

Police Officer: “Well, I couldn’t find a phone number for him, but I did find his mum. So I’ve spoken to her and she’s going to have a talk to him.”

(The insurance company had the details within hours. It still makes me chuckle imagining that boy getting a bollocking from his mum for his irresponsibility. In the meantime, my dad made a full recovery and my baby was born without any drama.)

I’m Good At Being Bad

, , , | Friendly | April 25, 2019

(I just got off work as a hotel receptionist, which means that I have been standing for the past seven hours. My feet and knees are very much in pain, but I need to make a detour before I can head home. While I head towards a traffic light, a guy from what looks to be a charity thing tries to catch me. I try to remain polite, even when I’m in a bad mood, but I do not want to deal with this any more than necessary.)

Guy: “Hey, we just need some good people for a few minutes–”

Me: “I am not a good person.”

(He did not push the issue, even though I had to wait at the light to turn green for me to cross.)

The Need For Speed(ing)

, , , , , , | Friendly | April 8, 2019

(We are in front of a town hall before a civil baptism and we meet another guest, a travelling salesman, whom we know to be a Sunday driver.)

Father: “I hope you didn’t drive too fast!”

Guest: “No, I was careful today.”

Guest’s Girlfriend: “That’s because there are only three points left on his license.”

(The French driving license is on twelve points. A number of points are lost in addition to the fine depending on the offence.)

My Mother: “Be careful; the driving license is essential for your job.”

Guest: “Oh, I talked to a police friend. To avoid any problems, I can buy another residence in Belgium and take the necessary steps to get a Belgian driving license. They don’t have a license with a penalty point system, so if I present the Belgian license to the French police, I’ll lose no points; I’ll just get the fine.”

My Father: “But wouldn’t it be easier just to respect speed limits?”

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