The charity shop where I volunteer has a strict policy that only two customers are allowed in at any given time for health reasons. While most have been understanding about this, there are always a few exceptions.
A middle-aged man walks past a queue of people waiting outside the shop and starts to enter the shop.
Me: “Sir, please could you wait outside? We’re only allowing two customers in at a time.”
Clearly seeing this as a personal slight, the man snaps.
Customer: “Where does it say that?”
His wife slapped him on the arm, pointed at the three-foot-tall sign in the window, and dragged him away. If she ever comes in without him, she’s getting my volunteer discount.
Related:
Behind Every Angry Man, Is A Long-Suffering Wife
I’m working at the reception of a smallish hotel on the beautiful island of Mallorca, just six hours by ferry from Barcelona. The following interaction is with a couple who are in their mid-sixties:
Guest: “I can’t log on to the free WiFi. Can you help me?”
Me: “Of course I can. Just give me your laptop.”
I put in the password and connect him to the Internet, his wife all the time eagerly looking over his shoulder. Up comes the last page he had visited, and it is “Busty Danish Teens.” The man turns bright red and slams his laptop shut.
Guest: “Thank you.”
Guest’s Wife: *Glaring at him* “What was that?”
Guest: “We’ll talk about it later.”
My mom has been putting off some shots of medication she needs due to the current health crisis because they can affect her immune system, but she finally decides to take them. My dad is helping administer them when he starts joking with her.
Dad: “Are you ready to get these shots like a big girl?”
Mom: “Depends. Do I get any candy afterward?”
Dad: “Yes, you can have one piece of candy.”
Mom: “But it’s two shots!”
Dad: “But it’s one dose.”
Mom: “But it’s two shots!”
Dad: “But it’s one dose!”
This goes back and forth for several minutes, and I’m sitting nearby in the room snickering to myself. Eventually, they agree to disagree and he gives her the first shot.
She handles it, but the second one hits a nerve or something and is very painful. He holds her hand through it and then goes to get her a piece of candy from the bowl on the coffee table.
He gets up to dispose of the needles, and my mom sneaks over to take a second piece of candy. He walks back in as she’s sitting back down. He jokingly glares at her and says:
Dad: “It was one dose!”
Mom: “But it was two shots!”
My mom then unwrapped both candies and put both in her mouth at the same time. My dad walked out muttering to himself while I absolutely lost it laughing.
I thoroughly enjoy a cartoon my husband doesn’t, and I’ve gotten him to watch a few episodes with me. I’ve just told him about a piece of fan-made merch I’ve ordered and show him the item listing. The featured character is one he’s seen in the episodes we’ve watched.
Husband: *Reading aloud* “’I’ve had a real challenge of a day.’ I can see that, with the crab claws.”
Me: “The what?”
Husband: “Crab claws, ‘cause she’s a crab?”
Me: “I’m gonna repeat her name, okay?”
Husband: “Okay.”
Me: “Scorpia.”
Husband: *Moment of thought* “Lobster?”
Me: *Putting more emphasis on her name* “Scorpia. What do you think she is?”
My husband stares at me blankly, clearly not understanding just what my point is.
Me: “Scorpia?! SCORPION?!”
Husband: *After another moment of thought* “Wow, I’m a f****** idiot.”
I have no idea what the heck kind of crab he thought a lady named Scorpia was. I’m not letting him live this down any time soon, playfully, of course.
We’re the family from this story and this story — and no, that second title wasn’t our idea.
It’s been several years since then, and we have only one cat left, our orange tabby Apollo. He is now a venerable Old Man Cat who rules the house and has gotten increasingly vocal and demanding in his old age.
It’s Easter 2020, and we’re preparing dinner for ourselves. Apollo has been underfoot the entire time.
Apollo gives my husband a demanding meow.
Husband: “No! You have been fed. Stop it!”
Apollo gives my husband an even more demanding meow.
Husband: “If you are good, you will get tribute in the form of ham. If you keep yapping your jaw, you aren’t going to get anything.”
Apollo gives my husband a stern look and the most demanding meow ever uttered by a feline.
Husband: “No! You are losing ham by the minute. B**** and moan, you get nothing. Stop it!”
Of course, we gave in and fed Apollo all the ham he wanted. This was one of our last back-and-forth conversations with Apollo, as his kidney issues worsened shortly afterward and he became increasingly sick. We had to help Apollo cross the Rainbow Bridge two months later. Our hearts ache and we both miss him terribly but we are so glad he will live on in stories.
Related:
The Cats Demand You Spill The Beans
The Cats Demand You Pork The Butt
