Rocky Mountain Oysters Do NOT Come From The Ocean

, , , , , | Friendly | February 15, 2019

(I am a fourth-grade teacher.)

Student: “Mr. [My Name], do you like oysters?”

Me: “Yes.”

Student: “Great! I’ll bring you some.”

Me: *wondering how he intends to do that, since we live in Missouri* “Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

Student: “It’s no problem. I’ll bring ’em as soon as my dad’s done castrating the bulls.”

Me: “You really don’t have to do that.”

Be Very Under-Weary

, , , , , | Right | February 15, 2019

(I work at a well-known UK department store in the menswear department. A customer comes to my desk clutching a pack of underpants, and it is immediately obvious that every single pair has been worn.)

Customer: “I’d like to return these.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but we cannot exchange or refund underwear unless the packaging is intact.”

Customer: “What? Why?!”

Me: “It’s for hygiene reasons.”

Customer: “That’s ridiculous. I haven’t even worn these!”

(I know he is lying because the packet is open, and all of the underwear that would have been neatly folded inside when he bought them are messily shoved back into the packaging. There is also an overwhelming scent of strong laundry detergent.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but without the packaging and hygiene seal intact, I cannot refund or exchange this purchase. It does state this on your receipt, and you would have been informed of this when you bought them.”

(He demands to speak to a manager, who tells him exactly the same thing as I did until he leaves in a huff. I speak to my manager afterward about how ridiculous it is that people would be so disgusting as to try and return used underwear.)

Manager: “Well, at least he washed them before bringing them back. You’d be amazed by the number of people who bring in dirty ones to exchange.”

This Is Spring Rolling Down Hill

, , , , , , | Related | February 9, 2019

(My father, over the years, has taken the eating habits of a pig. I mean the like of always having some food fall on his shirt, making it a race by pushing one bite down by taking the next, open mouth, loud noises so you can actually hear him chew, slurp, smack, and all from one end to the other of the house, and so on. It’s useless to ask him to stop; he says he doesn’t hear anything or just doesn’t know how and that it’s no big deal. It drives me crazy and makes me sick. This one time took the cake. We are having Vietnamese spring rolls for dinner in a build-your-own way; all the ingredients are on the table and you just take what you want. Some items are sticky and have a spoon to serve yourself with, while others you can use your hand as long as you take what you touch. As usual, my father decides the rules don’t apply to him, so he goes in without using the spoon. He can’t just wipe the sticky sauce on a napkin or go wash in the sink. Instead, he proceeds to stick each finger in his mouth, one at a time, all the way to the base, and suck it clean, with the usual noises. Then, with his hand all wet with saliva, he moves to reach into the next dish like nothing happened. Totally grossed out, I stop him.)

Me: “Dad! No!”

Dad: “What?”

Me: “No, you just covered your fingers in saliva; don’t put it back in our common food. Go wash it first.”

Dad: “Hmpf. If you insist.”

(He does wash, but he decides to be as loud as he can since he did not like me calling him out. Since he eats super fast, he’s done first. The problem is, he has to throw his napkin and some bits that fell on him from the meal in the trash can, which is behind him. So, here we are, and he — unnecessarily — bends all the way in half, placing his butt right at the table level, almost leaning on the table, and… yes, he farts. A big, long, stinky one. On the table. Again, grossed out, I call him out on it.)

Me: “Dad! Come on! Farting at the table is bad enough, but farting on the table is disgusting and totally excessive.”

Dad: “Oh, I did? I didn’t notice.”

(He never even attempted to say sorry.)

Love Isn’t The Only Thing In The Air, Part 16

, , , , | Romantic | January 23, 2019

(A friend relayed this story to me. She and her boyfriend have gotten very close over the past three years. This is the conversation she had with him:)

Friend’s Boyfriend: *farts*

Friend: *laughs* “Why does it sound like a question?” *continues laughing*

Friend’s Boyfriend: *confused* “What? What do you mean?”

Friend: *still laughing* “It’s like your butt said, ‘Huh?’ like a question!”

Friend’s Boyfriend: “Well, if my fart is the question, your fart is the answer.”

Related:
Love Isn’t The Only Thing In The Air, Part 15
Love Isn’t The Only Thing In The Air, Part 14
Love Isn’t The Only Thing In The Air, Part 13

The Trashiest Customers In The World

, , , , | Right | January 20, 2019

(I am working at a popular coffee chain, and it is my turn to sweep the parking lot and pick up cigarette butts. A large truck pulls into the lot and stops in the parking space next to where I am working. The driver looks at me, cracks a smile as if he just thought of the best joke in the world, and dumps his ENTIRE car ashtray onto the ground.)

Man: “You missed a spot.”

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