Worse Things Have Happened To Younglings… 

, , , , , , | Friendly | March 27, 2020

(My father’s friend is hosting a Christmas dinner at their place. As the adults start drinking in the dining room, most of the kids all run up to the TV, but I decide to accompany our host’s younger son, who is around nine. He takes me to his room and wants to play.)

Son: “Let’s fight!”

(He takes out a drawer filled with toy weapons.)

Me: “Sure, but I’ll just use this.”

(I pull out my younger brother’s toy lightsaber.)

Son: “Okay, but you’re gonna lose.”

(He equips a Nerf gun and his own toy lightsaber. We stand at opposite sides of the room.)

Son: “Go!”

(He then fires his Nerf gun at me, but I block the bullet with my lightsaber, stride forward, and knock both of his weapons aside with the lightsaber before tapping him lightly on the neck)

Me: “You’ve been decapitated.”

Son: “What? How did you do that?

Me: “The people in my fencing class can stab faster than a Nerf bullet.”

Son: “Cool! You’re a Jedi!”

Me: *deepens voice* “May the Force be with you, youngling.”

(I was telling the truth; my fencing classmates are fast. But I was actually watching the barrel of his gun and angling my lightsaber to be directly in front of it. Don’t tell him that, though. I have the reputation of a Jedi to maintain.)

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Unfiltered Story #190863

, | Unfiltered | March 26, 2020

I’m a tech support guy remotely assisting a user with a Quickbooks activation prompt appearing on her screen

Customer complained about Quickbooks popping an activation error message.
I chat with the user to refer their email for the activation key, and fill up the activation text fields accordingly.
User opened up Outlook, found the email, proceeds to PRINT THAT EMAIL.
Then with paper in hand, proceeds to TYPE OUT the license key field one by one.

That’s A Mom’s Job… To The Extreme!

, , , | Related | March 25, 2020

(My mom has a knack for solving problems, which is why she is frequently asked for advice by her best friends. Her best friend’s maid has gotten pregnant and my mom’s best friend is freaking out. She calls my mom to ask for advice and my mom solves it very quickly. This conversation occurs after the problem has been solved, and my mom is telling me about it over wine.)

Me: “Good job. Wow, I can’t believe that you had a plan of action ready for that.”

Mom: “I’ve had that plan for years, just in case any of the maids I employ got pregnant.”

Me: “Fair enough.”

Mom: “You know I have backup plans for everything, right? Car problems, marital problems, you get your girlfriend pregnant…”

Me: “Hey! I don’t even have a girlfriend.”

Mom: “I’ve made plans already. Just in case.” *starts listing them off on her fingers* “Girlfriend has an STD. Girlfriend is pregnant. Girlfriend breaks up with you. You bring home my grandkid. You get pregnant…”

Me: “I’m a guy.”

Mom: *matter-of-fact tone* “You could have gotten a surgery and then gotten pregnant.”

Me: “Gender reassignment surgery cannot do that.”

Mom: “Really? I didn’t know that.” *sips wine* “Regardless, I made that backup plan before I knew you were a boy.”

Me: “I think that level of paranoia is overkill.”

Mom: “If you think that’s bad, you should listen to my backup plan in case Grandpa and Grandma die. I’ve had that plan since I was sixteen.”

(She’s about fifty at the time of this conversation)

Me: “Jesus. And now you’re going to tell me that you have had a backup plan in case I suddenly died since I was six.”

Mom: “Nonsense.” *sips wine* “I’ve had that plan since before I even got married.”

Me: *speechless*

Mom: “That’s why my life has no curveballs. I make backup plans for everything. That’s why everyone asks me for advice. Whatever problem they have, I already have a backup plan in case such a situation ever happens to me.”

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Mum’s Not Just The Word; She’s So Many Words

, , , , | Related | March 21, 2020

(I am playing an online game with my boyfriend and his schoolmates. We’re using Skype to talk. Halfway through a level, his mom comes into the room. We can hear the entire conversation as he left his mic on.)

Mum: “Boy-boy. Mummy is back.”

Boyfriend: “Uh, hi, Mum.”

Us: *snickers*

Mum: “What game are you playing, ah? Looks very violent. Are you sure you’re old enough for this?”

(He’s seventeen and we’re playing “Left 4 Dead 2.” I know for a fact that he modded the zombies to look like stormtroopers and removed the blood spray for FPS purposes.)

Us: *snickers even louder*

(His tone gets more annoyed as he’s still wearing his headphones and can hear us.)

Boyfriend: “Mum. It’s okay. Don’t worry, all right?”

Mum: “Why can’t you go out and play outside more, ah? Keep playing video games in your room and you will forever never have friends.”

Boyfriend: “I’m playing with my friends now, Mum. We’re playing together online.”

Mum: “Which friends?”

Boyfriend: “[Friend #1], [Friend #2] and [My Name].”

Mum: *perks up* “[My Name]? Really? Last time I saw her she was still a little girl.”

Friends #1 & #2: *starts laughing*

Me: *starts dying of embarrassment*

Mum: “And didn’t she used to cry so much when you had to go home?”

Me: “Stop laughing, idiots! I was six when that happened!”

Friends #1 & #2: *laughs even louder*

Boyfriend: “Uh, Mum, that’s–”

Mum: *not listening* “I think I’ve got a picture of the two of you in the bathtub! Lemme go find it.”

Friends #1 & #2: *catcalling*

Me: *dies of embarrassment*

Boyfriend: *long sigh* “She’s gone now. And I’m locking my room.”

Me: *no-nonsense tone* “I am never inviting her to our wedding.”

Friends #1 & #2: “Ooooh.”

Boyfriend: *without hesitation* “Agreed.”

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Unfiltered Story #186990

, | Unfiltered | February 23, 2020

(I’m at a food court waiting to collect an order I’d placed over the phone. There are 3-4 packets of food awaiting collection; the vendor is serving the person ahead of me. A large, overweight woman in her mid-thirties with her hair bunned up in a style more appropriate for a 2-year-old is behind me).

Woman (in a high, screechy voice): Is that mine? (pointing to a packet that the vendor is preparing). If so, don’t add the spring onions.

Vendor: No, yours is already packed. (Indicates one of the packets).

Woman: Oh no, I forgot to tell you not to add spring onions.

(She then proceeds to grab my shoulders dramatically, as if overcome with sadness, and started FAKE CRYING. In her extremely loud, screechy voice. I’m frozen in surprise and embarrassment.)

Woman: UHHHHH-HUHHHH-HUHHH-HUHHH, I don’t want spring onions, I don’t want spring onions!!!!!

(The entire line of people, and there were a lot of them, turns to gawp at this lunatic. And, unfortunately, at me, thinking that we’re friends. The vendor looks embarrassed and pretends not to notice).

Woman (getting, if possible even louder): UHHHHH-HUHHHH-HUHHH-HUHHH!!!!!!!!

(At this point, I bolt. Later, I found out that this woman likes to act like a little kid, thinking that her plumpness and voice made her look cute – hence the hair and crying. She was not mentally disabled in the least, but pulled the little-kid act when she wanted her own way in anything.)