Sweet Sixteen Comes After The F***-You Fifteen

, , , | Right | March 29, 2019

(At my race track, we require anybody under the age of sixteen to have a parent present to sign a release waiver so they can drive. Anyone sixteen and older can sign themselves up. When signing up, the system creates a driver profile which is pretty much just a name and date of birth. While some are “smart” enough to bypass the necessary signature by putting in their DOB wrong so they’re older in the system, most are honest when filling out their profiles. After getting several kids all signed up without a problem, all sixteen and older, the last one fills his profile out and the system lets me know his age once he’s finished.)

Me: “So! After getting you all signed up, we’ve hit a little snag. You, [Customer], are fifteen, correct?”

Customer: “Yeah?”

Me: “All right. Unfortunately, because you’re not sixteen yet, I need your parent to come in and sign off on you to drive before I can let you ride. After that, you’re set to go whenever, but the first time I need that signature. I’m sorry.”

Customer: “Wait. What did I put as my birthday?”

Me: *knowing exactly where this is going* “[Date], 2001.”

Customer: “Oh. I meant to put 2002.”

Me: “Um… That would make you even younger, dude.”

(His friends start laughing a little, as does one of my coworkers, though he tries to hide it.)

Customer: “Oh. I didn’t mean 2002. I meant 2000.”

Me: “Seriously? You’re fifteen by your own admission. Just bring your parents in and you’ll be good to go.”

Customer: “F*** this. Let’s go guys.”

Coworker: *after they leave* “So… did that happen?”

Me: “Yup. Want to know the best part?”

Coworker: “What’s up?”

Me: “He turns sixteen in a week.”

Time To (Funny) Face The Customers

| Canada | Right | October 7, 2016

(I work at a racetrack serving betters in the restaurant on race nights. We have several regulars who come in every race night. Two in particular, a husband and wife, are very sweet. All of the staff, including managers, restaurant staff, and the employees in my department, love them for being so kind. I have the pleasure of serving them every single race night, so I have gotten to know them and can get away with joking around with them. On one particular race night, I jokingly made a funny face at the man as I approached their usual table.)

Man: “Be careful! My mama said that if you make a funny face, you’ll get stuck like that!”

Me: “Well, I can see you never listened to your mama.”

(His wife broke out laughing and he gave me a high five for my quick come back. To this day we still enjoy making fun of each other.)

Muffled Screams

| Wauseon, OH, USA | Related | August 22, 2016

(Dad and I are loading the generator after several hours of dirt-track racing. It should be noted that after running for several hours, the engine and exhaust on it are very hot. Dad is at one end and I am at the other as we pick it up into the side door of our trailer.)

Dad: “Ready?”

Me: “Heave, you ho!”

(We pick it up and I feel a sudden burn in my gut and scream.)

Dad: “What’s wrong?”

Me: *laughing* “I found the muffler!”

(At this point we have to stop loading for a few minutes while we laughed our a**es off. I am left with a nice burn blister about three inches long on my belly. I tell my brother in text on the way home from the track.)

Brother: *text* “Well, at least you can tell everyone you had a hot date tonight!”

Me: *groans*

Literally Grabbed Himself A Steal

| Sydney, NSW, Australia | Friendly | August 13, 2014

(My workmates and myself decided to treat ourselves to a day at the races. Afterwards we went over to have a few drinks at the hotel across the road. I am talking with a couple of coworkers when one walks off without a word, bends down, and comes back to us.)

Coworker #1: “Look what I found.” *holds up expensive sunglasses*

Coworker #2: “Where did you find them? They look really good.”

Coworker #1: “They fell off some guy’s head ages ago. I waited for ages for him to walk away. Was hoping that no one else got them before I did.”

(I just stood open-mouthed.)

Should Take A Brake From Driving

| Kennewick, WA, USA | Right | December 27, 2013

(Whenever we have a child that seems to be too short to ride the go-karts, we tell the parents we need to size them on one of the karts. Doing so with her mother watching over my shoulder, this little girl is barely too short to press the brake pedal hard enough.)

Me: “I’m sorry. She’s not quite tall enough. She can reach the gas, but can’t press the brakes hard enough.”

Mother: “So…?”

Me: “I can’t let her ride.”

Mother: “But she can press the pedals. Yes?”

Me: “Yes, but she can’t press the brake pedal hard enough to engage it. It takes a bit of pressure.”

Mother: “So why can’t she go? If she can press the pedals, then she can make the kart go.”

Me: “Yes… but she couldn’t get the brakes to work.”

Mother: “But she can go! So what if she doesn’t press the brakes enough?”

Me: “…she won’t be able to slow or stop without them.”

Mother: “Oh! That’s what that does?”

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