That Motherly Love Isn’t What It Used To Be

, , , , , | Related | February 2, 2020

(My wife and I have eaten some old MREs — meal, ready to eat — for dinner, and we’re feeling a little off. Later, I tell my eighty-five-year-old mother about it on the phone.)

Me: “We ate some seven-year-old army rations for dinner, and now we don’t feel too good.”

Mother: “Don’t eat those; they’ll make you sick! You should give them to homeless people!”

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Unfiltered Story #182271

, , , , | Unfiltered | January 13, 2020

(I worked at a local community college bookstore a few years ago. During a work day on first week of the new semester at the local college’s bookstore, I noticed a rather heavyset bearded customer who appeared to be in his mid-20’s sitting in the aisle copying problems from a math textbook. I did not have the authority to tell the customer to cease his activity, so I continued my other duties. About an hour later, the customer was still sitting in the same area copying problems from the textbook. Another co-worker asked me if I noticed the customer, and I said that I did, but I did not have the authority to tell him to stop, so we agreed to get our supervisor to deal with the customer. I expected an argument to unfold, but never did I expect this:)

Supervisor (walks up to customer): “Excuse me, sir, but this is not a library.”
Customer: “I’m just copying down the problems from the book and I will do this at home. I cannot afford the book.”
Supervisor: “You have to buy the book. This is not a library.”
(customer starts to literally FREAK OUT)
Supervisor (remaining calm): “You still have to buy the book.”
(The customer starts throwing a tantrum at this point)
Customer (getting on his knees and pounding the floor with his fists): “YOU ARE A MONSTER!!!” *sob sob*
Supervisor: “I am sorry, but this is not a library.”

The customer then runs out of the store, huffing and puffing and sobbing.

Bees Full Of Kryptonite

, , , , , , | Learning | November 19, 2019

(I work for a kids camp at a college. We are the typical rich kids camp, so we get a lot of stress from parents throughout the whole summer. But some parents just leave us with gem-like stories.)

Me: “Okay. Does your child have any allergies that we should be aware of?”

Mom: “Nope! Our little boy is like Superman! Nothing can hurt him!”

Dad: *stays quiet*

Me: “All right, then! I’ve got everything I need. I think you are good to go! Have a nice day.”

Mom: “Thanks!” *phone rings* “Oh. I’ll meet you guys outside. I have to take this.” *runs outside*

Dad: *to me* “Um… Can you actually wait a second?”

Me: “Yes?”

Dad: “My son is actually allergic to bee stings.”

Me: “Wait, seriously? How come she said he was ‘Superman’?”

Son: “She thinks it’s a ‘flaw’ and is embarrassed about it.”

Me: “Oh… well, no worries, man. I won’t tell anyone, but make sure you have your medicine with you.”

Dad & Son: “Thanks!” *leaves*

Coworker: “Wait… if she doesn’t like to admit he has an allergy, then how did they get medicine?”

Me: “I’m either gonna say in secret or the black market.”


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Can’t Lechon To What She Is Saying

, , , , | Right | October 9, 2019

(I work at a quick-service Chinese restaurant. I am serving a middle-aged Filipina.)

Me: “Hello! What can I get for you today?”

Customer: “I want pork.”

Me: “Okay, well, we have mu-shu pork, sweet-and-sour pork, pork spareribs…”

Customer: “No, no. I want pork.”

Me: “Right. So, mu-shu pork, sweet-and-sour pork…”

Customer: “No! I want pork! To eat!

Me: “This is pork to eat.”

Customer: “No! Pork! Pork! I want pork!”

(She started gesticulating wildly at the box next to me, the one holding the plastic FORKS.)

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Finally Registers The Reason Why  

, , , , , , | Right | October 7, 2019

(I am stocking shelves at a pharmacy. An elderly gentleman, at least in his 70s, walks up to me and looks at my nametag.)

Customer: “Mister [My Name], yes, I was wondering if you could open up a register for me?”

(I look at the cashier stands. Two are operating, and the lines are not busy at all.)

Me: “The wait shouldn’t be very long. Is there a problem?”

Customer: “I really just need you to open a register for me, please.”

Me: *very confused* “I assure you, the ladies running the registers right now are competent and will have you out the door in no time.”

Customer: “That’s just it. They are ladies…”

(He turns to me and exposes the large box of condoms he has secreted in his jacket.)

Customer: “I wouldn’t be so brazen!”

Me: “Right this way, sir.”

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