Not Very Touched By Your Request

, , , , , | Right | August 8, 2019

(I work for a major shipping company. We offer packing services in addition to shipping. A customer comes in and the following occurs:)

Customer: “Can someone help me bring in what I need shipped? It’s heavy.”

Me: “Sure, I’ll grab it for you.”

(I’m expecting it to be a box, but when she opens her trunk all I see is a carpet of candy wrappers, empty soda containers, and assorted garbage. I’m so distracted by the sea of bright colors I don’t see what she needs me to carry right away. Then, I see two brackish, twisted, and rusted pieces of metal that I assume are car parts. They look absolutely disgusting. Already regretting every choice I ever made that lead me to this point, I grab one in each hand. They aren’t heavy at all, despite being metal; they are completely hollow. When I set them on the scale, they weigh less than 25 pounds combined and my hands are completely coated in black grime. I give her a blank stare.)

Customer: *in a completely cavalier, not sorry at all tone* “Sorry.”

(She just didn’t want to touch them. Why the f*** couldn’t whoever put them in her trunk for her wrap them in a garbage bag, at the very least?)

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Hugs And DVDs And Poop, Oh My!

, , , , , , | Related | August 4, 2019

(I am visiting my nephews and telling stories of them when they were babies. They are teens now so they cringe when they hear the stories.)

Me: “[Oldest], you were probably the cutest. For whatever reason, you preferred to sleep on my shoulder to anywhere else, so when you’d get sleepy, you’d crawl away from your mom over to me so I would pick you up. Your mom wouldn’t let me see you for months because of that.”

Mom: *from across the house, while oldest cringes* “I still haven’t forgiven you for that!”

Middle Nephew: “What about me? What did I do?”

Me: “You… always liked to play with the DVD player.”

Middle Nephew: “Like… the remote?”

Me: “No… the DVD player. You’d crawl over and stand up in front of it. I had mine about–” *puts hand a little under two feet from the ground* “–about this high. So, you’d go to it, press the button, and giggle. But then the tray would come out, hit you in the face, and knock you down, so you’d cry. I’d pick you up so you’d stop and you’d go do it again.”

Youngest Nephew: *while middle nephew cringes* “Ha! That sounds just like him! What about me?”

Me: “Oh, you didn’t like me as a baby.”

Youngest Nephew: “Why not?”

Me: “Well… when you were a baby, [Ex] helped me babysit you guys one night. I took those two outside to play while you were getting your diaper changed. I came back in to check after a little bit and stood over you and said, ‘Bah!’ It scared you so much, you somehow sprayed poop and pee all over [Ex] as you cried. We cleaned it all up and she had to go home, change, and come back, but you wanted nothing to do with me until you got older.”

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Welcome To Retail, Part 4

, , , , | Right | July 30, 2019

(My boyfriend and I have a mutual friend who’s the manager at a nearby town’s tractor and farm supply store. Yesterday, we got a snap chat from her with the following message, verbatim:)

Friend: “Someone s*** themselves in the middle of an aisle and then proceeded to grab a nearby shopping basket and finished in that. Wiped themselves with the pantyhose socks used to try on shoes. Then hid everything in the basket under a bin of socks.”

(As the manager, she was the only one certified to clean it up. They don’t pay her enough.)

Welcome To Retail, Part 3
Welcome To Retail, Part 2

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This Hotel Is Filling Up!

, , , , , | Related | July 24, 2019

(My family is checking into a hotel room. I turn to my five-year-old daughter.)

Me: “Let me look in your mouth.” *looks* “No, you’re okay.”

Wife: “What are you doing?”

Me: “Just making sure that’s someone else’s filling on the floor.”

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Your Boobs Are Practically Volcanic Today

, , , , , | Romantic | July 22, 2019

(My wife is nine months pregnant and is trying on new nursing bras in the bedroom. I’m sitting by the door, but in the living room.)

Wife: “Our bedroom smells like farts for some reason.”

Me: “Okaaaaay?”

Wife: “Wait, I think it’s just the plastic from my new bra.”

Me: “That… only raises more questions.”

(A few seconds later she comes out and basically pushes her chest in my face.)

Wife: “Random question: does my boob smell sulfury to you?”

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