Unfiltered Story #137172

, | Unfiltered | January 25, 2019

My dad used to worked in an office that was cleaned once a week by a temp cleaner. She was a middle age lady with not many skills ( including cleaning ). One time during her work she talk to my dad about her life and daily problems. She had a teenage daughter that was about to go to the prom. She was upset that she cannot afford to buy her a nice dress for this occasion. Just by accident the boss heard that conversation and next week called the lady to his office. She return crying and showing to the office workers a lot of money. The boss told her to buy for her daughter the most expensive and beautiful dress they can find.

Put Your Money Where Your Thoughts And Prayers Are

, , , , | Legal | January 5, 2019

A local Sunday school commissioned me for a painting. I took the job and did everything they asked, and they were happy with it. They seemed like the perfect client… until I sent them the invoice. This is a verbatim quote from their email:

“We were thinking about this with our crew and with our kids. We prayed for guidance and God told us we shouldn’t you pay this money. Instead, we’re going to pay for you in prayer and blessings.”

Now, I have to sue a Sunday school because God has a personal beef with me.

Four Little Magical Paws

, , , , | Hopeless | November 27, 2018

My husband and I decided to adopt a dog. We picked one out right before our wedding and took her home about a week or so after. She had been abused in the past — beaten, shot at, etc. — and had behavioral problems that came out once she got comfortable with us. While at the shelter, she’d been too scared to “show her true colors.”

Our vet directed us to a behaviorist who helped us out, and literally changed my life, how I viewed dogs, and my relationship with them.

Fast forward a year. We decided to go ahead and adopt a second dog. This time I was determined to pursue the passion that I’d acquired for training and helping needy rescues, and I knew I wanted a special dog. While I loved our dog, she had been my husband’s pick, and I wanted to choose this time.

I set my sights on an 11-year-old mutt, who had been in the shelter for more than ten years. The shelter had a pretty awful past, where they’d basically abused their dogs and refused volunteers, and that had only changed within the past year or so — now it’s literally, hands down, one of the best in the country — but it meant that for about nine years he had no human contact and was severely neglected.

Needless to say, he was a basket case. I spent four months dedicating almost every free minute and weekend I had either visiting him at the shelter or at a course I was taking to be able to offer him the therapy and help he needed. I was finally able to take him home, and shortly after, I passed my course and was certified to work with dogs.

If I thought my life changed before, he was the final straw. My trainer and behaviorist both have called him one of their most difficult cases, and he isn’t one of those miraculous “changed overnight” dogs, but he is my absolute pride and joy and sunshine and everything good in this world. He sucks up every minute of my free time, but that’s all right. He has separation anxiety that prevents me from being able to leave the house without either finding a babysitter or arranging for him to be taken care of — no hopping out to the store to grab that one thing I need for dinner for me — and poses a huge problem to every aspect of my life, but I wouldn’t give him up for the world.

It’s such a joy to see such a needy dog that doesn’t know how to function properly go from terrified to entire body wagging with joy when he greets me, and proudly walking by my side on walks instead of running around in terrified circles trying to drag me back to the shelter. Everybody who’s seen his progress keeps telling me that he’s an entirely different dog, and he just makes me so proud. I have crippling depression at times, and he’s the only thing that keeps me going on a really bad day. I might be able to convince myself that the world would be a better place without me, but then I remember those four little paws that panic and freak and forget all the things he’s learned when I’m not around.

The Church Is Hangry

, , , | Romantic | October 17, 2018

My boyfriend and I are a multilingual couple. My first language is English, his first language is French, and the first language that we started talking to each other in was Polish, in which we’re both semi-conversational. We’re both also studying each others’ first languages to improve our communication, and between our three languages have sort of calibrated our normal conversations.

We are planning on getting married next year, and our church requires a private interview with the priest in preparation for marriage. The priest doesn’t know either of us, and speaks English fairly well, but not perfectly, and doesn’t speak any French. Our Polish isn’t really up to the high-level vocabulary of the interviews, so it’s all in English. When we’re interviewing together, everything is fine.

When it’s my turn to interview alone, we have a few difficult moments where the priest phrases a question in a weird way or pronounces a word such that I have to ask for him to repeat it a few times for me to understand, such as, “Are you agree with the church teaching about XYZ?” But overall, it’s okay. As we end the interview, I tell the priest that my boyfriend might have a bit of difficulty understanding him if he speaks very quickly, and the priest says he’s realized that and promises to speak slowly.

I sit outside the office and wait for my boyfriend’s interview to be over. After about ten minutes, the priest opens the office door and asks me if I know another word for “permanent” in French. I tell him no, but offer my phone for Google translating. He shuts the door and the interview continues for a while.

When it’s over, my boyfriend explains that the difficulty was that he heard the question as, “Are you angry with the church teaching about marriage being permanent?”

He replied, “No.”

It took a fair amount of repetition for the priest to clear that particular question up, and I learned that my boyfriend has a lot of difficulty hearing the differences between, “agree,” “angry,” and, “hungry.”

Dad Has A Few Grams Of Sense

, , , , , | Related | June 20, 2018

Father: “No, you can’t get a big ice cream. You won’t eat it. You’ll get a small one.”

Boy: “But Daddy, a medium one, please.”

Father: “They don’t have medium — only big and small — so I’m getting you a small.”

Boy: “Mediuuuummmm, pleeeease!”

Father: *looks at the display next to the window saying, “small 120g 2PLN, big 200g 4PLN”* “One medium 120-grams ice cream, please.”

Boy: “Oh, thanks, Daddy!”

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