Every year for Christmas, my sister gets my dad a page-a-day calendar that has a one-frame comic on one side and a joke, puzzle, or trivia on the back. He texts the comic/joke/whatever to his friends or family members when he thinks they would appreciate the humor or he thinks it’s relevant to their life, i.e. a medical joke for a doctor, a classroom comic for a teacher, etc.

I am known for not checking my phone as often as my parents would like me to. My dad is not the most technologically advanced. I am at his house one evening.

Dad: “Did you get my comic that I sent you today?”

Me: “No, I don’t think so.”

Dad: “Really? I sent it to you this morning.”

Me: “I don’t remember seeing… Oh… Wait… Yeah, I think I did get it. I didn’t see it yet.”

Dad: *Feigning hurt feelings* “What? You didn’t bother to look at it?”

Me: “I remember getting the notification that I got a picture message from you, but I didn’t actually look at it yet.”

Dad: “What if it was me telling you there was an emergency and to come home?”

Me: “I’d hope you would call for that, but if you texted there was an emergency, I would have seen the words in the notification. If it’s a picture, it just says, ‘picture message.’”

Dad: “What if I was in a life-or-death scenario and told you I was dying and you’d have to come save me quickly?”

Me: *Starting to laugh* “I’d hope you’d call 911, but again, if you texted words, I would have read them in the notification.”

Dad: “What if I was dying, I needed you to save me, and I could only muster up a picture of myself to send to you?”

Me: “You’re telling me that you’re about to die, and the quickest, most efficient solution you can come up with is sending me a picture?”

He starts acting out a dramatic death scene.

Dad: “[My Name]… Save… me… Click.”

Me: *Crying with laughter* “You’re dying. You take out your phone. Instead of dialing 911 or asking Siri call someone, you find your camera, turn it to selfie mode, take a picture, open up messages, find my name, attach a photo, and press send? That’s somehow easier?”

Dad: “Just read the comic next time!”

I started a new job in a super-sized convenience store chain not all that long ago, so I was still settling into both the role itself and the social pecking order. In that early “getting to know each other” phase, I was rather nervous around anyone in a higher position than me.

The front-end manager who oversaw the point of sale registers was a lady I was especially nervous around. She had a permanent serious face on, even outside of shift hours, and a no-nonsense kind of a vibe to her. Despite being one of the shortest managers in the store, she could be one of the fiercest, and I had already seen her verbally joust with a head office member during a smoke break.

I was alone at the registers during an extremely slow point in the day. I hadn’t seen a customer going in or out for about fifteen minutes and had been doing small odd jobs to keep myself busy. This manager came walking over, making a beeline directly for me, wearing what I interpreted as a scowl on her face. I felt my stomach do a flip and started running through a mental list of everything that should be and could be done by this time of day, hoping I hadn’t neglected something and was about to be called out on it. As she got closer, I remember noting that one hand was hidden behind her back — a strange detail, but relevant.

She stopped on the customer side of the register I was manning.

Manager: “Any customers in-store, [My Name]?”

Me: “Um, not that I’ve seen, [Manager]. We’ve actually been really quiet for a while now.”

Manager: “You’re sure?”

Me: “Yes?”

She held my gaze for a few seconds, still wearing a serious expression, and I was starting to sweat a little when she cracked a smile and declares, “Oh, good!” Then, she reached for the store intercom beside me. It crackled to life and her voice resonated throughout the store.

Manager: “Oookay, everyone, it’s Friday! And we all know what that means. Oh, yes, it’s that time of day when we welcome the Friday Piiiiggg!!!”

She then whipped out a dog chew toy in the shape of a pig from behind her back, the kind that makes a guttural “hoorrk” sound when you lightly squeeze it and a near-piercing “soowEEEEK” when you give it a hard and fast squish. Holding the chew toy up to the receiver, she proceeded to vigorously squeeze the thing for a good fifteen seconds or so, alternating between the sounds the toy could produce. The cacophony of sound was ricocheting around the open spaces of the store, echoing back and doubling on itself as she gave this thing a thorough thrashing.

When she was done, she put the receiver back to her mouth and finished the absurd show with a warm sendoff.

Manager: “Thank you for your kind attention, all, and once again, this has been the Friday Pig, signing off! Happy Friday, everyone!”

Then, she hung up the intercom, flashed me another smile, and flounced off in the direction of her office, leaving me standing at the register in shock and wondering what in the h*** had just happened.

As I was mentally digesting the event that had just taken place, a little old lady appeared from a side aisle, popping her head almost fearfully out from behind the end display.

Old Lady: “Ex… excuse me, but… what the f*** is a Friday Pig?!”

I guess there was a customer in-store after all. Oops.

This story is part of the Readers’-Favorite-Stories Of-2022 roundup!

Read the next Readers’-Favorite-Stories Of-2022 roundup story!

Read the Readers’-Favorite-Stories Of-2022 roundup!

In sixth form, I volunteered to be a classroom assistant for the lower years during some of my free periods. One of the lessons I assisted with was for year-sevens (eleven- and twelve-year-olds) who needed some additional support with maths. In one lesson, we were covering probability, and the teacher finished up with some revision.

Teacher: “What is the chance that a tossed coin will fall showing heads?”

Students: *Chorusing* “One in two!”

Teacher: “What is the chance of a dice rolling a four?”

Students: “One in six!”

The questions continued like this for a little while longer, until…

Teacher: “What’s the chance that [Other Teacher] will run into the classroom right now in a sarong and a rainbow wig?”

Students: *Giggling and uncertain* “Zero?!”

Right on cue, the other teacher burst into the classroom in the described outfit and chaos descended. I’m not sure if they ever did that again, but it definitely made probabilities memorable!

My daughter was delivering a pizza and noticed a bumper sticker on the owner’s car that read “Mother of Dragons.” My daughter decided to be clever when the lady answered the door.

Daughter: “Valar Morghullis.”

The lady turned red and started laughing in response. Later, when my daughter told me this, I asked:

Me: “What? No ‘Valar dohaeris’ in reply?”

Daughter: “No. I wished she did… but I did get a very good tip.”

I had been dealing with telemarketers all day long, and I thought, “If that phone rings one more time…”

Not five minutes later, it rang. I answered it, and they wanted to try to sell me some insurance. I just happened to have an old short bullwhip that I use as a flirt pole — a dog’s toy that you attach a toy to the end of and they chase it around — in my hands.

Me: “Sorry, I have to go kill a snake that’s in my yard!”

They would not shut up. They just kept asking over and over:

Telemarketer: “Do you take more than six prescriptions a day?”

I just gave them an earful of me “killing a snake”.  Really, all I was doing was hitting the concrete over and over with my whip and making it pop LOUDLY into the phone, and my dog was in his pen going nuts!

While all of this was going on, I asked them if I could call them back later. I never did, and they did not call back.  

I went and gave my dog some love and let him know that I was okay after it was all over with.