Not Bready For This Level Of Cheapness

, , , | Right | December 28, 2020

I am visiting Paris with my family and we’re eating in a little café. At the front of the café, they have bread samples.

As we’re eating, an old lady runs up to the sample tray and stuffs all of the bread into her purse.

Worker: “Why did you do that?!”

Old Lady: *In broken English* “It is free so I can take as much as I want!”

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The Polar Express Was Cancelled

, , , , , , , , | Right | December 24, 2020

The transportation strike has begun in France. I want to celebrate Christmas with my mom and dad, who live hundreds of kilometers away from me. It’s important for me because my dad is currently going through chemotherapy. My mom has to take care of him and I want to be with them for Christmas and give them all the moral support I can. I intend to take the train because I don’t own a car. Some French people don’t need them because our big cities have good networks of subways and buses.

Then, my train is cancelled. All the other trains are either full or cancelled. I try to search through carpooling websites but unfortunately, I have anxiety and going through these sites is too much for me. (Please, don’t laugh. I’m not weak; I just have a disability.) Moreover, I travel with my cat and a lot of carpoolers don’t accept animals. It seems like I’m going to spend Christmas away from my family this year. I’m very upset.

I mention my cancelled train in front of my coworkers at work. One of them tells me that her brother and his wife will be driving to the same place this weekend. She phones him and she tells me it’s okay; I can travel with her brother. They’re not even bothered by my kitty.

I meet her brother and his wife a few days later. They’re both incredibly nice people and they drop me with my cat at my parents’ door a few hours later. I try to make them accept money. They refuse and I eventually give them a box of chocolates. I will always be grateful to these wonderful people who allowed a person with special needs to spend Christmas with her very sick dad and her mom who really needed support.

This story is part of our Feel Good roundup for December 2020!

Read the next Feel Good roundup for December 2020 story!

Read the Feel Good roundup for December 2020!

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Turning Into A Soap Opera, Part 4

, , , | Right | December 7, 2020

I work for a cosmetic brand and I am helping a woman choose between two different shower gels. She can’t decide between two scents. She is so uncertain that I show her the bar soap. She completely freezes and asks:

Customer: “But does it wash your body?”

Me: “Well, yes, it’s soap. It’s for the body.”

Customer: “But how do you use it?”

Me: *Puzzled* “You scrub your body with it.”

Customer: “But can I use it in the shower?”

Me: *More and more dismayed* “Well, yes! It is made for washing your body; it is soap! Where else would you want to use it?”

Turning Into A Soap Opera, Part 3
Turning Into A Soap Opera, Part 2
Turning Into A Soap Opera

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Time To Retire From This Call

, , , , , | Working | October 20, 2020

My mother had me at thirty-five years old. Even though she’s retiring in a few months, she’s still working her long-term job at sixty-seven years old, but is taking full advantage of her right to do it remotely. She’s one of the lucky ones, as people past their mid-fifties are notoriously under-employed.

I, meanwhile, am at an age where most people have started their own household, but doing so has ended up not being in my stars. It’s a workday and new neighbors doing construction work have driven my mother to a small room and headphones blasting relaxing music.

The phone rings and I pick it up.

Representative: “Hi, I’m from [Place that makes sure people know they can get their homes insulated for cheap due to a government program].”

That program has been one of our recurring cold-callers who come back despite various “not interested” answers, but my mother has very recently been considering getting some work done that would technically count as heat insulation, and my own work is slow so I’m more in the mood to speak with one of their representatives than usual. The discussion quickly reaches the point where I have informed the representative that she’s not actually speaking to the house’s owner and mentioned my mother’s age.

Representative: “And where’s your mother right now?”

Me: “In the house, but she’s busy with her job.”

Representative: *In disbelief* “Is your mother really busy with her job at age sixty-seven?”

In the time it took for me to process that answer, my brain also pointed out that the questions had gotten a little too personal and that hanging up was probably the best course of action. With our government both considering adding financial penalties to early retirement and expecting my generation to retire a few years later than our parents did, a sixty-seven-year-old having a job shouldn’t be treated as something difficult to believe.

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Brace(let) Yourselves For An Angry Ending, Part 2

, , , , , | Right | September 29, 2020

I’m at the front desk at my school fair where people buy tickets for activities, helping out to get service hours needed to graduate. When you buy tickets, your child/children automatically get a bracelet so they can play the Wheel of Fortune. It is one bracelet per child, and you can only play once. A boy, about ten or eleven, comes up with his newly-purchased tickets.

Boy: “I’d like a bracelet, please.”

Me: “Sure, what color would you like? We have red, blue, green, and yellow.”

Boy: “I’ll have blue, please.”

I attach his blue bracelet and he is on his way. After this, it gets incredibly busy and we are rushing to give bracelets and change. The boy returns to the counter and he looks vaguely familiar, but at this point, I’ve seen probably 150 children in thirty minutes.

Boy: “Could I have a bracelet, please?”

Me: “Have you had one already? I’m sorry, I don’t remember if I’ve seen you already.”

Boy: “No, I haven’t had one yet, but my brother did.”

Me: “All right, pick a color.”

He picks a color and I put it on him before he runs off again. I make note of his face and clothes in case he returns again. Sure enough, ten minutes later, he’s back.

Boy: “I’d like a bracelet, please.”

Me: “I’m sorry, I can’t give you one; I remember you from earlier. In fact, I think I already gave you two.”

Boy: “No! I haven’t had one yet! Give me a bracelet!”

Me: “Could you go get your parent, please? I’d like to confirm with them; I don’t want to make any mistakes.”

He leaves again and comes back with one of his parents. It’s important to note that parents and kids can’t see the boxes of bracelets since they’re under the table with a table cloth over it, covering the front.

Parent: “What seems to be the issue? My son told me you’re refusing to give him a bracelet. They come free with the tickets, right?”

Me: “Yes, they do, but they are limited to one per child. I could be wrong, but I think I remember your child coming by once, if not twice already.”

Parent: *Now angry* “He hasn’t had his bracelet yet! How dare you accuse my child of lying?! Now give him a yellow bracelet or I’ll report you to administration!”

Me: “Sir, there are other families around, so I need you to keep your voice down. I cannot give your child another bracelet since you’ve just proved to me that he’s had one already. The bracelets are under the table so you have no way of knowing what colors we have available right now. And if I may add, next time you try to trick us, throw away the previous bracelets. I can see them sticking out of the pocket of your coat.”

He turned bright red and spluttered incoherent sounds before grabbing his child and speed-walking away. Our “manager” congratulated me for standing my ground and gave me a free drink from the concessions stand, as well as bonus service hours.

Brace(let) Yourselves For An Angry Ending

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