A Disagreement To Bring The House Down

, , , , | Romantic | October 13, 2017

Early in my marriage, it became quickly apparent that my new wife had much higher, and therefore pricier, standards when it came to residences than I did. We were both from areas with much cheaper housing than Seattle, but at that time I was the only one who seemed to allow that to re-shape my expectations of where I could live. Sometimes I’d bring up a neighborhood I’d like to live in, and she’d recoil in horror; by her standards, such places were run-down and trashy, whereas by my standards they were quite reasonable and quaint.

One day we were driving on a particular stretch of highway that had notoriously bad traffic, and I noticed that my gas gauge was precariously low. I was coming up on the last exit before I would get onto the bridge heading into Seattle, and I wasn’t confident I could make it to the city on what I had, given the traffic. So, I took the exit and started looking for a gas station in the small township outside of Seattle. My wife was admiring the nice yards and homes and said calmly, “See? This is the kind of neighborhood I could live in.”

I replied, “Honey, this is Bill Gates’s neighborhood.” I gave her a “give me a break” look.

She got the message and saw her issue. Our standards still don’t match, but the gap is considerably smaller than it was.

It Is Possible To Not Like Sports

, , , , , | Working | October 11, 2017

(I am checking out at a grocery store the morning of a big football game.)

Cashier: “You’re not wearing your [Team] gear!”

Me: “Well, I’d have to own some. And care.”

Cashier: *shock*

Look At All These “Looks!”

, , , , , | Friendly | October 10, 2017

(I’m sitting at the stoplight right next to my apartment building, waiting to turn right onto a major thoroughfare. I see a bus coming down the bus-only lane and realize I’m sticking too far out into the intersection for it to get by. I put my car in reverse to creep back, and go maybe 10 to 12 inches, and discover there was a guy sitting on my tail, and I’ve backed into him. My issue was that I was focused on getting out of the way of the bus and didn’t pay attention to what was behind me like I should have. I get out of the car to address the guy behind me, but he starts the exchange.)

Guy: *gesturing indignantly* “Wha… You… Wha… How… Do you not look?! Do you not look behind you?! How do you not look?!”

Me: “Yeah, I’m sorry about that; I was concentrating on getting out of the way of the bu—”

Guy: “I do not understand how you cannot look! Do you drive and not look?!”

Me: “Yeah, I should have looked but I didn’t. That was my error. I was too far out in front of the—”

Guy: *maintaining his flabbergasted tone* “I do not care about the bus! You are supposed to look! How do you not look behind you?!”

(At this point I look and there is ZERO damage, not even a scuff. He continues.)

Guy: “How can you drive and not look behind you?”

Me: “Yeah… I’ve acknowledged that I should have looked behind me, but—”

Guy: “I do not understand how you not look?!”

Me: “Look, there’s no damage, so… I’m just going to get going. Sorry, again.”

(I get in my car and the guy doesn’t budge, his body language doesn’t alter, and his tone of voice stays the same.)

Guy: “But how do you not look?! You need to look!”

(I drove off while he still stood there and nothing else came of it.)

Death Of A Sale At A Funeral

, , , , | Working | October 9, 2017

(My uncle has recently passed away, and my mother is the executor of his estate. We have been receiving many telemarketing calls and she is tired of them.)

Telemarketer: “Hello, I’m calling from [Company] about [Service]. How are you doing today?”

Mom: “Well, to be honest, my brother just passed away, and I’ve been getting a lot more sales calls than condolence calls. How do you think I’m feeling?”

Telemarketer: *click*

(We stopped getting so many calls after that!)

Coming To A Horrible Realization

, , , , , , | Friendly | September 25, 2017

(My wife and I live in an apartment complex. Our greasy upstairs neighbor listens to his music and movies so loud we can’t hear our own TV, and talking to him about it is always met with, “Yeah, yeah, sorry! Of course!” and then him never actually turning anything down. I wake up in the middle of the night to an odd noise that takes me a moment to identify. It is a rhythmic thumping and squeaking, directly above us. I realize this must be the neighbor’s bedroom, as the apartment layouts are identical. The moment I wonder if my wife is still asleep, she speaks.)

Wife: “Um…”

Me: “Yeah. I hear it, too.”

Wife: “What… what is it?”

Me: “What do you think it is, honey?”

Wife: *wearily* “Oh, no.”

(Right then, the noise stops. Then we hear footsteps across the room towards the bathroom. Then a door shutting. Then silence. Then a flush.)

Wife: “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

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