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A collection of stories curated from different subreddits, adapted for NAR.

Great. Now I’m Starving.

, , , | Right | CREDIT: GullibleInevitable14 | August 30, 2021

I was the chef in a hole-in-the-wall joint and it was awesome; it was crazy busy and the clientele was hipster to the max. We had a bunch of yum on the menu. My favorite by far was the Unburger, a slab of meatloaf with cheese baked in. It was served on a chunk of French stick, topped with BBQ sauce, jalapeños, more cheese, tomato slices, and lettuce, served with homestyle potato wedges. It was bloody incredible and delicious, and it was our best seller by far.

The menu description was, “UNBURGER: meatloaf, jalapeños, cheese, in a French stick, served with house wedges.”

A local who had eaten this multiple times and LOVED it came in one day and talked to me.

Customer: “The Unburger is the best vegetarian ‘burger’ in town!”

Me: *Laughing* “It’s not vegetarian.”

She let rip — burst like a festering pustule. She demanded to see the manager. Cue the owner trying her hardest to not laugh her a** off. It’s a meatloaf burger; it’s on the menu. We laughed so hard about this for months.

Someone Needs A Muzzle

, , , , | Friendly | CREDIT: just_an_aspie | August 30, 2021

I live in an apartment building. Where I live, there’s no such thing as pet-free housing. By law, all residential areas must allow pets within reason (you can’t have a cow inside an apartment). I usually leave home with my service dog unvested and put his vest on if I have to; where I live, service dogs must be vested and have an ID and tag.

I am getting my mail at a common area of the building and a lady is just leaving the elevator with a kid (her granddaughter) when she sees my dog. My dog is a pit bull and is in no way or form aggressive or reactive.

Lady: “[Kid], stay behind me! That’s a dangerous dog!”

Me: “Actually, he’s very docile and well-trained.”

Lady: “But that’s a pit bull! You can’t have that thing in here.”

Kid: “I want to play with the dog!”

Lady: “Shut up, [Kid]!”

Me: “I can have him here; he’s my dog, and by law, he has all the right to be here.”

Lady: *Clearly taken aback* “Well, by law, dangerous dogs have to wear muzzles!”

Me: “That’s right, but he isn’t a dangerous dog, and he’s a service dog. His tasks can’t be properly done with a muzzle and the law allows it.”

Lady: *Grinning* “Well, I’m in a hurry right now, but next time, I’ll call the police and see what they have to say.”

I really, really hope she does that. If she does, I’ll have her charged with harassment.

What’s Mine Is NOT Yours

, , , , , , | Related | CREDIT: maddmoiselle_1 | August 29, 2021

My cousin is a single mother who lives with her elderly parents. Her daughter, age five, was exposed to someone with a certain contagious illness and is now starting to show symptoms. My cousin calls me.

Cousin: “Is there a possibility that you could go stay with your parents for two weeks so I can isolate with [Her Daughter] in your house?”

Going to my parents would mean having to put in leave at work. She can afford a guesthouse, and even if she couldn’t, our government actually provides accommodations for cases like this. I point this out.

Cousin: “Going to such a place would be restrictive to my dearest baby, and she would just die without a proper TV and Wi-Fi. And your backyard is so nice and big; we would love to use the pool during the hot summer days. And since your parents are elderly, they could probably use your help for two weeks.”

Believe me, they don’t want me there, and I have health conditions that would make the illness deadly for me if I caught it. I gave her a swift no.

This Security Guard Will Not Guard Your Insecurities

, , , , , | Right | CREDIT: Crycakez | August 29, 2021

I work in security, and I am a gate guard for a public-owned outdoor entertainment area. While I’m waiting there, a man walks past taking his young son — three or four — to daycare.

Man: “Boys don’t cry, [Son]. Only girls do.” *Sees me and addresses me* “Isn’t that right?”

Me: “Actually, boys can cry. Only really strong men and boys cry; it’s weak men that think only girls do. If you cry, it’s because you are a strong boy.”

The man goes red in the face, hurries to the daycare down the road, and then comes back to yell at me. I turn around and point out:

Me: “I’m a female in the role of a male. I’m doing a ‘man’s’ job. And you are a chauvinist pig to teach your son such toxic masculinity.”

Man: “Well, I’m French and that is our culture.”

Me: “This is New Zealand and it is not our culture.”

Letting The Cat Out Of The Bag… And Into Your Apartment

, , , | Right | CREDIT: big_cereal | August 28, 2021

I work at an inbound call center for real estate-related stuff. It’s 2018, after hours at around 7:00 pm. Two of us are in the office on shift — the current shift supervisor and me — and the third operator, [Coworker], working their shift from home.

Anyways, I notice that [Coworker] has been on a call for over fifteen minutes. A fifteen-minute call is incredibly rare for our call center; usually, anything beyond a five-minute call is considered long for us. I’m wondering what the heck is going on, but of course, I can’t tell because [Coworker] is taking the call from their home and not in our office, so I can’t overhear it.

But then, [Coworker] calls [Supervisor] and explains to them that they’re dealing with a very difficult and delusional woman, and she wants to speak with a supervisor.

[Supervisor] takes over the call and is greeted by a very angry lady who’s just about at her limit.

Supervisor: “This is [Supervisor] from [Business]; how can I help you?”

Caller: “I live at [apartment address], and there’s a cat in here!”

Supervisor: “There’s a cat in your home?”

Caller: “Yes. I was out and now I’m back home and there’s a cat in my apartment. Who was in here?!”

Callers often think that our call center is the real estate or property management, but our call center is actually a middleman that takes messages for busy real estate companies and agents and passes them along.

Supervisor: “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure who would’ve been in your apartment. I’ll need to pass along a message to [Property Management Company], and they’ll need to give you a call back. May I please have your name and phone number?”

Caller: “I’m not giving you s***! I want to know who was in my apartment! Somebody broke in and left their cat in here!”

Supervisor: “Ma’am, if someone broke into your apartment, you should call 911.”

The caller makes some confused, angry noises.

Supervisor: “This is just the call center for [Property Management Company]. As I mentioned, I would have to send a message to them for them to give you a call back. Maybe they’d know who was in your apartment.”

Caller: “I just need to know who was in my apartment and whose d*** cat this is!”

Supervisor: “Are you missing anything? Does it look like your door was broken into?”

Caller: “No, nothing is missing. And nothing is wrong with my door!”

Supervisor: “Did you have any open windows while you were out?”

Caller: “Yes.”

Supervisor: “It’s entirely possible that the cat could’ve came in through your window.”

Caller: “No! That’s ridiculous! Somebody was in my apartment!!”

Supervisor: “Did the cat pass by your feet as you were walking through the door?”

Caller: “Somebody broke into my apartment, and I need to know who! If you aren’t going to help me, I’m filing a complaint against you and [Coworker]!”

Supervisor: “Call 911. If someone breaks into your home, you call the police, not a real estate company.”

[Supervisor] is trying not to laugh but it’s getting hard to contain it and the caller hears.

Caller: “Somebody broke into my apartment and you’re laughing?! Say goodbye to your job! I’m filing a complaint.” *Hangs up*

I’ve worked in that call center for four years to this date, and while there have been some pretty crazy calls while I’ve been working there, this one takes the cake. However, I still can’t imagine what those fifteen minutes of h*** must’ve been like for [Coworker] before [Supervisor] took over.