Grandpa’s Future’s So Bright He Needs Shades

, , , , | Related | December 3, 2020

My family has always been big dirt track racing fans, and we go to the races almost every weekend all summer long. My grandpa gets tired of dealing with the bright sun shining into our eyes when we’re sitting in the grandstand, so one day on our way to the races, he stops at a thrift store and picks up a small rain umbrella to block the sunlight.

The umbrella costs him about eighty cents, but he’s like a kid in a candy store bragging.

Grandpa: “I’ll be able to see and you won’t because of my shiny new umbrella!”

We get to the races and find seats toward the top of the grandstand. Everyone starts joking about how long my grandpa is going to wait before pulling out his umbrella, but he decides to wait until the first heat race starts.

After the practice lap sessions, the first race takes to the track in preparation for the green flag. With a flourish worthy of a Las Vegas magician, my grandpa pulls out his umbrella, unwraps the strap holding the canopy closed, raises the umbrella over his head, presses the button to open the canopy, and POP!

The entire canopy flies off the shaft. My grandpa is left holding the handle and the shaft as the canopy falls onto a group of guys about halfway down the grandstand.

My grandpa freezes as the other fans turn around to find out who threw an umbrella onto their heads. As the guys see my grandpa still holding the shaft over his head, they start to scream up the grandstand. The screaming attracts a lot of attention from other fans, and soon everybody is staring up at my grandpa.

In response, my grandpa slowly lowers the umbrella shaft in front of his face and pretends to hide behind it like a little kid hiding behind a tree.

The scene is so comical that everybody in the grandstand starts laughing, including the guys who were hit by grandpa’s rogue umbrella. Grandpa quickly offers to buy a round of beers for the guys, and the rest of the night is as enjoyable as ever.

Before the next race night, my grandpa invests in a pair of sunglasses and insists on getting a wraparound cord.

Grandpa: “…so the d*** things don’t fly off my face like that cheap umbrella!”

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Just Keep Swimming… Far Away From Me

, , , , | Friendly | CREDIT: richardkeck | November 26, 2020

I swim competitively in a club. I am at a meet against a rival swim team, about to race. I am getting ready to swim, doing stretches, when the lady timing the lane taps my shoulder.

Lady: “Can you move a bit? My son is swimming next.”

Me: “Sorry, ma’am, I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to swim after the group in front finishes.”

Lady: “What do you mean? I’m sure you made a mistake. Please move to the side now.”

The lady shuffles to the side to reveal her son, who looks pretty young or maybe just short; he is on the other team and looks kind of confused.

Me: “How old is your son? I’m pretty sure he’s supposed to swim in the other pool.”

The older kids are racing in a different pool than the younger kids.

Lady: “I know for a fact that my son is supposed to swim in this pool, in this lane. Now please move.”

The kid starts telling his mother that he thinks I am correct, but the woman waves him off.

Me: “Uh, ma’am, can you get the stopwatch ready? I’m swimming in, like, twenty seconds.”

Lady: *Raising her voice* “I think that you mean that my son is about to swim. Now, please move to the side. I want my son to get a good time.”

The official blows his whistle, and the swimmers in the other lanes get onto the starting blocks. When I begin stepping up on the blocks, the lady grabs my wrist and pulls me back.

Me: *Annoyed* “What are you doing? I’m about to swim.”

Lady: “That is it!

The lady pulls me back and pushes her son up to the starting blocks, and before I can try to stop it, the official says:

Official #1: “Take your marks!”

I yell towards him.

Me: “WAIT! WAIT! WAIT! WAIT A SEC!”

The official puts down his microphone and yells:

Official #1: “Quiet down, son, a swim meet is going on!”

That’s +100 self-confidence for the woman.

Another official runs up to us.

Official #2: “What is going on here?”

Me: “Uh, this lady is trying to stop me fr—”

Lady: “MY SON IS TRYING TO SWIM, BUT THIS SPOILED BRAT HERE IS TRYING TO STOP HIM!”

The official looks at the lady’s son on the starting blocks.

Official #2: *Calmly* “Son, get down from there; you’re supposed to swim in the other pool.”

Lady: “WHAT DO YOU MEAN? MY SON IS SUPPOSED TO SWIM NEXT! WHAT DO YOU MEAN, HE IS SUPPOSED T—”

The official waves her off and helps her son get off the blocks. He takes the stopwatch from the lady.

Official #2: “You can go now, ma’am. I can time this kid.”

The woman angrily walked away, her son right behind her, running to get to the other pool. The son missed his race, and I bet the lady yelled at him like it was his fault.

The official let me get up on the blocks, and I finally got to swim my race. I did really well! I dropped some time from previous races, and I had a good story to tell my friends afterward!

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This Stadium Will Rise From The Ashes!

, , , , , | Right | July 10, 2020

I work for a major sports team at their stadium. A common request from diehard fans is to have their ashes scattered on the playing field after they pass. The team’s policy is to deny such requests.

One day, a small plane flies over the stadium and a container is seen falling from the plane onto the roof and bouncing off. The plane is from a company that contracts with families to scatter cremains at about 1,500 feet in the air, usually over the water or up in the mountains. In this case, the drop mechanism malfunctioned, and rather than scattering the cremains into the air, the whole container dropped off the plane.

Since everybody is very jumpy about potential terrorism, someone calls 911 and the fire department calls for a complete hazmat response: suspicious white powder dropped from a low-flying plane.

The stadium is completely evacuated and the streets around the stadium are blocked off for several hours, all because of some ashes!

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The Classic Track Got Derailed Pretty Quickly

, , , | Right | May 13, 2020

I work at a go-kart track. I just started my shift and a lady is my first customer. I always ask customers if they plan on doing more than one activity since they can get package deals and save money.

Customer: “I would like two for the classic track.”

Me: “Okay, is that all you plan on doing?”

Customer: “I don’t know, why?”

Me: “We have multiple ride package deals to save money that are displayed here.”

I point to the giant flat-screen above me and the sign printed on the counter. The customer was nice but suddenly becomes furious.

Customer: “Why wasn’t I told this before?! Can I get the discount now?”

Me: “I’m sorry, we can’t do that; the package can’t apply to previous purchases. I’m sorry if someone else didn’t mention them, but they displayed.”

Customer: “Fine! Whatever, you guys are f****** terrible salespeople.”

I give her the two tickets and have her sign for her card payment. There is usually always a pen on the counter. 

Customer: “Um, I need a pen to sign for this! You must be their f****** star employee here! I bet you get employee of the month all the d*** time!”

Me: “Yes, I do! Thank you for appreciating my hard work!”

The customer scoffs and leaves. 

Coworker: “What was up with her? She was so nice when I helped her.”

Me: “…”

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Weather Is Not The Referee’s Field Of Expertise

, , , , , | Learning | April 4, 2020

I’m playing in my kids’ league soccer game in Omaha. Omaha is in tornado alley, and during the game, we can see the skies starting to change. My father, who has noticed and is listening to the radio, comes out during a break in the game to talk to the referee.

Father: “There’s been a tornado warning issued. Perhaps we should stop the game.”

Referee: “Nah. The weather is still good. We’ll keep playing.”

We continue playing, and a bit later, my father comes out again.

Father: “It’s been upgraded to a tornado watch.”

Referee: “Is it for this area?”

Father: “No, but it is nearby.”

Referee: “Then we’re going to keep playing.”

And we continue to play. Finally, my father comes out for a third time.

Father: “They say it’s coming this way.”

FINALLY, they stopped the game.

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