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Some Privates Should Remain Private

| Friendly | April 28, 2015

(One of our club volunteers, a courteous man of age, has lately been awarded a ribbon for his efforts. We read about it in a local newspaper while we all sit around.)

Volunteer: “It’s really better if you hear them saying it.”

Me: “Uh, okay. Certainly.”

Volunteer: “Here…” *fumbles with his smartphone*

Phone: *WHACK!*

Me: “…Haha, what’s that on your phone?”

Volunteer: *doesn’t answer, fumbles more*

Phone: *WHACK!*

Me: “You’re sure your phone is all right, hey?”

Volunteer: “Yeah, yeah…”

(He then hands me the phone, and for two minutes, we see and hear the video of the speech. Directly after it, the phone plays a short video of a woman getting some private parts slapped in her face… going with this ‘whack!’ sound.)

Everyone: *awkward stare*

Someone: “Sooo… [My Name]… How was your holiday?”

Paying Lip Service

, , | Friendly | April 16, 2015

(I am very young, and part of a karate dojo that has students from age 10 to about 60. Because I hate lip balm my lip will often split at the slightest provocation, causing this conversation to happen more than once:)

Older Student: *throws a punch* “Oh, my God! I’m so sorry!”

Me: “What? What’s wrong?”

Older Student: *looking pleadingly at Sensei* “I barely touched her, I swear! I’m so sorry!”

Me: “What’s wrong?”

Sensei: “Come here, [My Name].” *sighs* “Your lip is bleeding again. Go clean yourself up.”

Me: “But Sensei, I’m used to it! It doesn’t hurt. I can still fight!”

Sensei: “Yeah, and bleed all over my dojo! You can fight after you clean up. [Older Student], you did nothing wrong.”

Older Student: *still distraught* “She’s just so TINY, and she was bleeding, and…”

Don’t Fret Over A Cigarette

| Right | March 23, 2015

(I work security at an arena that hosts professional hockey games. Often, during intermissions, patrons try to smoke cigarettes inside the stairwells instead of the outdoor smoking areas, which is against state law.)

Me: “Hey, you can’t smoke in here.”

Patron: “It’s okay, man. It’s not a cigarette.”

Me: “Sorry man, no e-cigarettes inside either. They look too much like regular cigarettes, and people complain.”

Patron: “Come on, man. It’s not a cigarette.”

(As I am walking over to him, a distinctive smell hits my nose.)

Me: “Is… is that pot?”

(I told him that I would escort him to the outdoor smoking area, but I led him to the cops and explained the situation. As I walked away, I kept hearing him repeat, ‘but it’s not a cigarette!’)

Don’t Care To Rub Elbows With This Teacher

, , , | Learning | March 6, 2015

(It is school sport on a Saturday morning. I injure my left elbow. I attempt to play through the pain, but at the end I’m relatively sure that something is very wrong. After a quick chat to the umpires, and to my best friend, who’s captaining the team, we grab a third teammate and walk off the field so that he can take over the keeping duties. However, as we reach the boundary, a teacher, notorious for being a stickler for the rules, walks over to us.)

Teacher: “What are you three doing? The game’s still going on.”

Captain: “[My Name]’s injured his elbow. We’re gonna get [Teammate] to keep instead.”

Teacher: “You can’t be serious. There’s only ten overs left in the game. Besides, you’re holding up play. Let me take a look at this.”

(She grabs my elbow, sending a sharp burst of pain up my arm.)

Me: “Ow! Don’t touch that!”

(By this point, the third teammate’s got the wicket-keeping gear on, and has also ran over to get the first aid officer in the pavilion.)

Teammate: “I’ve got the first aid guy. I’ll head back out. Hope you’re not hurt too bad, [My Name].”

(He walks back out to the middle of the oval.)

Teacher: “You should head back out too, [Captain]. We can’t afford to hold up the game.”

Captain: “Not yet. I need someone to fill in for [My Name] in the field. We’re down a player.”

Teacher: “Fine. Just hurry up, will you?”

(Having overheard the last few lines of conversation, the first aid officer cuts off the teacher.)

First Aid: “Wait, we’ve got what might very well be a broken arm here, and your major concern is the game finishing on time?” *to me* “Let me have a look at that arm…”

(It takes him a few minutes, but he figures out that yes, something is probably broken in my elbow. Meanwhile, the captain’s convinced his two-years-younger tomboy of a sister – our scorer – to fill in in the field for us, and has already cleared this with the teacher representing the other school, and the umpires.)

Teacher: “[Captain], you can’t let her field. It’s a boy’s game, and she’s not in whites!”

Captain: “We’ve cleared it with everyone else here. I thought you didn’t want to hold up the game?”

Teacher: “…fine.”

(The captain and his sister run out onto the field, and the game resumes. Meanwhile, the first aid officer recommends that I get an X-ray done on my arm ASAP. The first aid officer and my father help me pack up my cricket gear, then my father and I walk back to the car so that we can go to the hospital. At the entrance to the car park, however, we are stopped one last time by the teacher.)

Teacher: “You can’t leave. The game hasn’t finished yet.”

Me: “Didn’t you hear the first aid guy? I need to get this arm X-rayed really soon.”

Teacher: “But the game’s still in progress. You’re not supposed to leave the sports grounds until the game is over. If you leave now, you’ll have to explain yourself to the [Deputy Head] first thing Monday morning.”

Me: “I’ll take my chances with that. See you on Monday.”

Father: “You really are useless, aren’t you? The school is going to hear about this.”

(The X-ray showed that I had fractured my elbow. My father put in a complaint to the school. Still, I had to go in to school early on Monday morning, left arm in cast and sling, to explain my early departure from the game to the Deputy Head. Needless to say, the Deputy Head took one look at me, and at the teacher’s account of what happened, and just told me to get to class. I took over scoring duties temporarily from the captain’s sister while my arm healed. Two weeks after this happened, we had a new teacher coaching the school cricket team.)

That’s Onesie For The Books

| Friendly | December 18, 2014

(At a costumed competition of my sports club, I overhear a young Dutch girl who is trying to talk her teammates into getting fancy costumes for next year.)

Girl: *in Dutch* “Oh, my god! We should SO get ‘oh-nay-sees’ for next year!”

(She meant onesies…)