My best friend at university is from the USA. He’s studying in England, but over Christmas, his family is visiting. Since I’m a Londoner, I decided to play tour guide for a day and plan a quick run-through of all the tourist spots.

At one point, we’re walking past a major central street to head to where the horse guards are. In doing so, we pass Downing Street.

Friend’s Dad: “Why is that road locked up?”

Me: “That’s Downing Street. That’s where our Prime Minister works and lives. Think of it like the White House.”

Friend’s Dad: “Huh.”

Me: “That’s why there are police outside with guns. It’s one of the very few times you’ll see guns in the UK out on the street like that.”

Friend’s Dad: “Oh. Do you all have to conceal your weapons here?”

Friend: “Dad, no, I told you. They don’t have guns here.”

Friend’s Dad: “No guns?”

Me: “Well, we have gun clubs for enthusiasts. My grandad is a member and took me shooting on a big range once, but the guns are never allowed to leave the club.”

Friend’s Dad: “No… guns? But, how do you defend yourself?”

Me: “From what?”

Friend’s Dad: “From other guns!”

Friend: “Dad! We’ve been over this! That’s not really a thing here. There’s knife crime, but—”

Friend’s Dad: “—Well, there you have it! How do you bring a gun to a knife fight?”

Friend: “You… don’t? Guns aren’t part of the culture here.”

Me: “Yeah… guns make me nervous, anyway.”

Friend’s Dad: “No wonder these Brits lost against us.”

Friend: “Dad, they’re just not used to seeing guns.”

Friend’s Dad: “Imagine being so not used to seeing guns that the sight of one makes you nervous!”

Me: “I know! Isn’t it wonderful! Anyway, we’re coming to the horse guard’s area, so…”

I go straight into my explanation of the next tourist spot, leaving my friend’s dad flummoxed as to how his apparent burn got turned into a compliment. Overall, he was a friendly guy and enjoyed the trip, but good LORD did that man like his guns.

My work phone rings.

Me: “Electronics. How can I help you?”

My boss is on the other end of the phone, though I didn’t realize that it was him, as I thought he had already left for the day. He is telling me about a customer on the line and something about a scooter. He puts the call through.

Me: “[Store Name and location], Electronics, how can I help you today?”

Customer: “Yeah, can I talk to the manager of the Electronics department?”

Me: “Unfortunately, our manager has left for the day. But I was told you needed help in Electronics? I’m in that section right now, maybe I can help?”

Customer: “No, I want the manager! Just get me the store manager!”

I try once more to help, but he’s not having it, so I put him on hold and get the manager on duty for the store.

Me: “Hiya, I’ve got a call coming in for you. I was told he wanted help in Electronics, but when I answered, he demanded to talk to you… So I don’t even know what the problem is yet.”

Manager On Duty: “Uh… okay. Thanks.”

I make the transfer and hang up. A few minutes later, my coworker comes back from his break.

Me: “I just had a weird call…”

I tell him what happened.

Coworker: “Ugh! I got him first! I was on my way to break, and Customer Service asked me to take a call. He wanted a charging cord for his electric scooter. I told him that we didn’t have it in our department and that most likely it would be in Sporting Goods, IF we even carried it. So, I sent the call to [Our Manager for our department]. I guess he sent it back to you.”

Just as he finishes speaking, the Manager On Duty comes in, still on the phone and looking through the entire department before finally hanging up. He turned to me.

Manager On Duty: “You’re no longer allowed to send me calls. I came and checked and had to keep telling him we didn’t have it. Then he asked if we were all racist and that we shouldn’t worry because he wasn’t going to call ICE on us to get us deported back to Mexico, and we should just help him. Then told me about how his wife apparently had been followed by security and accused of shoplifting in our store… twenty years ago. And that he is pretty sure one of the people he talked to is high.”

We started laughing, and I shook my head.

Me: “The high one is probably my boss (he has a mellow voice and vibe) and aside from the very first person he spoke to… we’re all white Oregonians.”

My family is divided politically, with my parents voting one way and nearly everyone in my generation and younger voting another way. Debates can be tense, but so far they’ve remained mostly civil.

The family has gathered over the holidays, and the kids are playing an anagram-style word game. My dad walks into the room.

Dad: “You need to talk to your son about mudslinging.”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Dad: “He just won that game they’re all playing by merging RED HAT into HATRED.”

Me: “…okay?”

Dad: “He’s being political.”

Me: “Dad, he’s nine. I doubt he’s trying to score political points against his grandfather.”

Dad: “Then why did he make those words spell that?”

Me: “It’s an anagram game! I think you need to figure out why you’re the one making that word association instead of projecting it onto your grandson, who is just playing a game.”

Dad: “I dunno… it just seems like some people in this family are using politics to turn us all against each other.”

Me: “So it’s the nine-year-old playing anagrams doing that? Not the retired guy who voted to defund his grandkids’ education so he could get cheaper eggs? Throw accusations of division around as much as you like, Dad, but be very careful pulling at that thread.”

Dad: “Bah! This whole family is against me!”

That was at Christmas. He was suddenly ‘busy and unavailable’ for New Year’s.

Our breakroom has a TV that is currently playing the news, which is probably not the best idea, but it does produce a few interesting insights about my coworkers:

Coworker: “Man, all this foreign policy bull-s***. There should just be one policy: America first and f*** the rest.”

Me: “I mean… I kinda think it is at the moment.”

Coworker: “We got to look after our own!”

Me: “I agree, but y’know it’s a big world and—”

Coworker: “And I’m tired of people saying America is the stupidest country in the world! Personally, I think Europe is the stupidest country in the world!”

Me: “Y’know what? I think I left my sandwich in my car…”

I work in a small coffee store on the main street of a walkable little neighborhood. An older, grizzled-looking guy walks in.

Customer: “Do you let any customer use your restroom, or you gotta buy something first?”

Me: “You can use it. No need to get anything.”

Customer: “F****** communists!”

He storms out, not even needing to use the restroom. Peeing for free is communism?

Related:
Needs To Work On Their Socialist Skills, Part 12
Needs To Work On Their Socialist Skills, Part 11
Needs To Work On Their Socialist Skills, Part 10
Needs To Work On Their Socialist Skills, Part 9
Needs To Work On Their Socialist Skills, Part 8