Throwing Out Or Throwing Up?

, , , , | Working | September 17, 2018

(The cat food production line has started to reek, so when I have some downtime, I go through and find out that line workers have been just putting open, rotting, maggot-infested boxes of cat food under tables, maybe to hide them. I get a bin and some gloves and start throwing the opened and contaminated stuff into the bins. A new guy walks up to me.)

New Guy: “Are you just throwing those out?”

Me: “Yep.”

New Guy: “Can we take them?”

Me: *looking horrified* “What?!”

New Guy: “Well, if the company is throwing them out, can we take them?”

Me: “You don’t want them! Do you smell that? Do you see the things moving?”

New Guy: “Well, some look okay.”

Me: “They are contaminated. I’m throwing them into a special large trash can, which is locked… and now I know why.”

A Self-Sustaining Meal

, , , , | Learning | September 11, 2018

(Lunch is over in our toddler classroom, and we are putting the kids down for nap time. It’s fairly dark with the lights off, and my co-teacher and I are sitting on the floor patting the backs of toddlers. My co-teacher looks around me.)

Co-Teacher: “Hey, what is [Child] eating?”

(This child’s nap time mat is near the lunch table, and he will sometimes eat off the floor if we miss something during clean-up. I turn to look at him. He takes his fingers out of his mouth, gets a refill, then puts his fingers back in his mouth.)

Me: “Boogers.”

Co-Teacher: “Gee… Glad I asked.”

Say Goodbye To This Dress

, , , , , , | Right | September 7, 2018

Years ago my mum was working in a clothes shop with a one-month return policy.

A customer bought a returned dress, but soon returned it, complaining of a rash that the dress had caused.

After making sure it was not an allergy issue, they sent the dress off to be tested, and the results told them that there were traces of embalming fluid on the dress. That’s the stuff they put on dead people to keep them looking nice for open-casket funerals.

Someone had put this dress on a person so that their friends and relatives could say goodbye, then took it off them and returned it to the shop. Apparently it never occurred to them that that was a bit weird.

You Don’t Want To Sit On The Stool Today

, , , , , | Working | September 6, 2018

(While working at a popular fast food restaurant, I am assigned to work Booth — first drive-thru window — for the shift. Booth is responsible for cleaning the lobby and bathrooms in between cars. After taking an order, I get told over the headset that there is an “emergency” in the men’s room, and head out to deal with it. On my way, I run into the manager who has just gotten on shift.)

Manager: “Hey, [My Name], how are you?”

Me: “Um… I think I’m going to wait to answer that until I find out what an ’emergency in the men’s room’ means.”

(A couple of my coworkers overhear this, and decide to find out themselves what that means. Just then I get a beep that another car has arrived, and head back to the booth to take the order. While I’m in there, I hear my coworkers SCREAMING in horror. Quick note about the layout of this store: the booth is in the corner of the lobby, and the hallway to the bathrooms is on the opposite corner. So, I could hear them from down the hall, around two corners, across the lobby, and through the very heavy door of my booth. After finishing with the order, I head back out, where my manager is heading towards the bathrooms with a garbage bag and roll of paper towels.)

Manager: “Go back to Booth.”

Me: “But aren’t I—”

Manager: “NO! Go back to Booth!”

(I later saw him exiting the bathrooms carrying the garbage bag, completely full of dirty paper towels. I later heard from my coworkers that it was diarrhea… all over the floor.)

A Bird In The Tree Is Worth Two In The Bush

, , , , , | Friendly | August 28, 2018

(Our office has closed but I have some things to finish. We have a monitor that shows the camera feed to our parking lot. It’s a normal parking lot: a lot of tiles with a few scrawny trees here and there. I suddenly notice on the feed a woman with four kids, digging near one of our trees on the parking lot. I leave my station to go to the caretaker of the building, a retired police officer.)

Me: “Someone is digging at one of our trees.”

Caretaker: “I’m sorry, I think I misheard you. You said something about digging?”

Me: “You heard right! Someone is digging at one of our trees.”

(When we walk together to the tree, the mother and children have already left. I pass a coworker who saw very little, but did notice one of the children was crying. The caretaker carefully shuffles in the sand of the tree with his shoe, but sees nothing.)

Me: “Wait, what is that?!”

Caretaker: “Oh, just a feather.”

Me: “No, over there. You just covered it with dirt again. It’s… it’s… a parakeet?! They buried their parakeet here?!”

(I know this block doesn’t have much green, but to bury your passed-away parakeet at the parking lot of an office is beyond my comprehension. We buried the parakeet again, by the way. The tree and the bird will be best buddies.)

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