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

He’s About As Rational As Most Bosses

, , , , , , | Right | CREDIT: Dark909911 | November 29, 2020

I work as a building supervisor with seven buildings I take care of. I also have a side job as a contractor to paint any apartment that needs it. I only do this part-time because of other duties from my buildings.

If I don’t have time for painting, my employer hires outside workers. I have been a painter for about eight years and do a very good job. I want everything perfect.

I have other building supers who are taking care of my buildings for two weeks that I’m taking off. My son started talking really early, and by two, he could speak quite clearly. He doesn’t make much sense, but you can understand every word he says.

I get a call from one of my tenants.

Tenant: *Angrily* “You must come to my place and paint my living room. My grandkids colored all over the walls with Sharpies! I have company coming and I will be totally embarrassed if they see my walls in this condition.”

Me: *Kindly* “I am on my two-week vacation and can’t help you.”

She starts screaming into the phone.

Tenant: “It’s your job! You have to come to paint for me or I won’t pay my rent next month.”

Me: “Please call the building owners and explain that to them. They have three other painters on call.”

That goes over like a loud fart in church!

Me: “Ma’am, my painting job and landlord status are two separate jobs, and I am on a two-week vacation from both.”

The tenant hangs up and calls the building owner. Then, the building owner calls me to ask my side. I tell her and she just laughs about it.

Building Owner: “If she calls back, just have fun. But she knows better than to threaten holding the rent back, because I warned her that if she doesn’t pay, she can’t stay.”

Less than five minutes later, I get the call I am expecting from the crazy tenant.

Tenant: “I just spoke to your boss! They said that you have to be here tonight to get my painting done immediately!”

Me: *Laughing* “I already talked to [Building Owner], and I am still on vacation.”

Tenant: “I mean your boss for your painting job!”

Me: “Oops.” *Laughs*

Malicious compliance activated!

Me: “He is right here beside me. I’ll put you on speaker so we can all straighten this out together.”

I put the phone on speaker and tell my son he is wanted on the phone. He LOVES talking on the phone. He doesn’t listen to the person on the phone; he just tells them all about what’s going on with his day, what he is watching on TV, about the puppy pooping in the grass, etc.

The tenant couldn’t be rude to a toddler, so after a few minutes of him chattering away, I pick up the phone and take it off speaker. This sends my little man into a freak-out.

Me: *To the tenant* “That’s my boss. By the sounds of him right now, it doesn’t look like I can make it tonight.”

She just hung up. I didn’t get another call from her.

How Do You Restaurant?

, , , , | Right | CREDIT: KingOfArms | November 29, 2020

I walk into work today to complete chaos. It’s a holiday that’s specific to my state, apparently, so we are pretty busy.

I am trying to rush to a table outside with waters when a couple of people stop me in the crowded lobby.

Customer #1: “We have a reservation; do we need to check in, or should we just head to our table?”

Me: “Head over to the host stand to check in, please.”

I point them in the right direction. They thank me and I continue on my mission to take water to the outside table.

I am stopped again by a group. I can see that they have sat themselves at the lower-level patio, at a table that is pretty far away from everything else but close to the parking lot. One of the group members is an old lady.

Customer #2: “Excuse me! We’re sitting here because she’s old and she can’t walk up there.”

Me: “That’s perfectly fine, as long as nobody needs that table right now. Just send one person up to the host stand and they will be able to seat you.”

Customer #2: “There’s seven of us. How do we do this?”

Me: “One of you just needs to walk up to the host stand and they will be able to find you a table.”

Customer #2: “But how do we do that?”

Me: “Only one of you needs to go up. The hosts will be able to find you a table.”

Customer #2: “There’s seven of us and she’s old.”

Me: “She doesn’t need to go up. Only one of you does. The hosts can assist you.”

About a minute goes by as we keep having the same exchange. They’re literally asking the same thing over and over and I keep answering the same thing. Then, finally, it registers in their brains that one of them needs to go in.

Customer #2: “Well, we have two people inside checking in right now.”

Me: *Internally facepalming* “Okay, great. The hosts will find you a table.”

I walk away and greet my table and get their orders, and as I am walking back, a member of the group of seven comes down.

Customer #1: “We got the table ready! Time to go in!!”

Coincidentally — yet not surprisingly — the two people who had stopped me in the lobby earlier were part of the other group I spoke to. Sigh.

They Don’t Pussyfoot With Pet Safety

, , , | Healthy | CREDIT: deadeyes2019 | November 28, 2020

CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

My girlfriend has a cat, and I’m allergic to it; I get incredibly itchy. I treat these allergies with promethazine, and it works perfectly.

I queue up at the pharmacy, and it comes to my turn to order.

Me: “Hi, could I get the [Promethazine Brand], please?”

Dispenser: “Of course. Can I ask what you’re using it for, sir?”

Me: “My cat allergies.”

Dispenser: *Frowning slightly* “Excuse me for a moment.”

She walks to the back and I can see her discussing something with the pharmacist. Then, she returns.

Dispenser: “I’m sorry, sir; we can’t sell you this if you are going to give it to your cat.”

I am slightly taken aback by this and try not to laugh.

Me: “Sorry, I meant it’s for my allergies to cats.”

We both laughed, and she jokingly claimed that it had been a long day.

That brand even has a cat on the packaging here in England.

Why Would You Want A Reluctant Person To Hold Your Infant, Anyway?

, , , , , | Friendly | CREDIT: elephantturtle85 | November 27, 2020

I’m a twenty-four-year-old woman, and I have a diagnosed phobia of children, especially babies, and especially babies’ drool. I’ll gag and even throw up if a baby touches me. Unfortunately, no one ever believes this. This happens when I am around, in a shopping centre.

My mom and I are out shopping for groceries and my mom’s friend Karen up with her baby. They start small-talking, and I step back and start looking at something on a shelf to avoid looking at the baby, since it’s drooling and if I see it I’ll start gagging,  which is always awkward and embarrassing.

[Friend] asks me to hold her baby for God knows what reason. I decline, saying I’ve never held one and it’s unsafe. She then starts to walk over with the drooling nightmare, so I start backing away and I gag.

Friend: “Why did you gag? My baby isn’t disgusting! What the h*** is wrong with you?!”

Mom: “Oh, she’s weird with germs. It doesn’t matter. I’ll hold her.”

Friend: “No! I want her to hold her! She’s just being dramatic.”

She starts getting closer to me and I start gagging more dramatically; my eyes are watering and everything. The more I gag, the louder and angrier she gets, the closer she gets, and the worse I get. At this point, she’s right in front of me and I’m backed against a shelf

My mom tries to diffuse the situation, but [Friend]’s holding a baby, so what can Mom really do?

Eventually, she pushes the child, who is now sobbing, too close to me. A bit of saliva from the sobbing gets on me, and I projectile vomit my breakfast all over [Friend] and her baby.

She started screaming hysterically, my mom laughed hysterically, and I was just unbelievably embarrassed, so I ran to the bathroom to clean up.

Just Keep Swimming… Far Away From Me

, , , , | Friendly | CREDIT: richardkeck | November 26, 2020

I swim competitively in a club. I am at a meet against a rival swim team, about to race. I am getting ready to swim, doing stretches, when the lady timing the lane taps my shoulder.

Lady: “Can you move a bit? My son is swimming next.”

Me: “Sorry, ma’am, I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to swim after the group in front finishes.”

Lady: “What do you mean? I’m sure you made a mistake. Please move to the side now.”

The lady shuffles to the side to reveal her son, who looks pretty young or maybe just short; he is on the other team and looks kind of confused.

Me: “How old is your son? I’m pretty sure he’s supposed to swim in the other pool.”

The older kids are racing in a different pool than the younger kids.

Lady: “I know for a fact that my son is supposed to swim in this pool, in this lane. Now please move.”

The kid starts telling his mother that he thinks I am correct, but the woman waves him off.

Me: “Uh, ma’am, can you get the stopwatch ready? I’m swimming in, like, twenty seconds.”

Lady: *Raising her voice* “I think that you mean that my son is about to swim. Now, please move to the side. I want my son to get a good time.”

The official blows his whistle, and the swimmers in the other lanes get onto the starting blocks. When I begin stepping up on the blocks, the lady grabs my wrist and pulls me back.

Me: *Annoyed* “What are you doing? I’m about to swim.”

Lady: “That is it!

The lady pulls me back and pushes her son up to the starting blocks, and before I can try to stop it, the official says:

Official #1: “Take your marks!”

I yell towards him.


The official puts down his microphone and yells:

Official #1: “Quiet down, son, a swim meet is going on!”

That’s +100 self-confidence for the woman.

Another official runs up to us.

Official #2: “What is going on here?”

Me: “Uh, this lady is trying to stop me fr—”


The official looks at the lady’s son on the starting blocks.

Official #2: *Calmly* “Son, get down from there; you’re supposed to swim in the other pool.”


The official waves her off and helps her son get off the blocks. He takes the stopwatch from the lady.

Official #2: “You can go now, ma’am. I can time this kid.”

The woman angrily walked away, her son right behind her, running to get to the other pool. The son missed his race, and I bet the lady yelled at him like it was his fault.

The official let me get up on the blocks, and I finally got to swim my race. I did really well! I dropped some time from previous races, and I had a good story to tell my friends afterward!