There’s No App For Crocheting

, , , , , | Friendly | September 1, 2018

(I’m sitting on a bench. I rub my neck because it hurts. A stranger comes up behind me.)

Stranger: “Generation Look-Down. You know, you wouldn’t have so many problems if you stopped using those phones!”

(They start ranting about the evils of technology. I wordlessly hold up my crocheting.)

Stranger: *sputters* “I… I have an errand!” *runs off*

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A Sinking, Drinking Feeling

, , , , , | Friendly | August 31, 2018

(I work at a restaurant, and all of a sudden, for about three months, one of my coworkers is off the schedule. He apparently has some medical issue, and isn’t able to work. Fast forward and he’s back at work. Everyone asks what happened, but it’s very obvious he does not want to talk about it, so we let him know we’re here if he needs us, and move on. A few weeks later, a young woman comes in wearing scrubs for a well-known drug and alcohol rehab facility. She immediately greets him by name and asks how he’s doing, before dropping this gem:)

Young Woman: “I haven’t seen you since you stayed with us at [Rehab]! Are you doing better?”

(He was embarrassed at the question and mumbled something before disappearing. I later found out — from him — that he admitted himself for alcoholism, and was, in fact, doing much better. But I couldn’t believe she did that. Even if she wasn’t working at a rehab facility, that would still be a HIPAA violation.)

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Undeath At A Funeral

, , , , , | Friendly | August 30, 2018

(My grandfather is the youngest of seven siblings. He and his oldest brother look very much alike and even have nearly the same voice, but they are fifteen years apart in age. However, as they grew older, the differences in their appearances became smaller and smaller. Fast forward 70 years: the oldest brother dies and my grandfather attends his funeral. A lady he has never seen before enters the church and spots him in the front bench with the other siblings. She goes white as a sheet and marches right up to him.)

Lady: “What are you doing here?!”

Grandfather: *confused* “I’m attending the funeral?”

Lady: “No, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in there!” *points at the coffin* “You’re supposed to be dead!

Grandfather: “Ah, no, you see, I’m–”

Lady: “LEAVE, DEMON! OH, LORD, HELP US! THIS IS THE END!”

(And with that, she stormed out of the church, never to be seen again.)

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Not Caught With Your Pants Down

, , , , , | Friendly | August 30, 2018

(I am a twenty-year-old woman and I recently went to a professional baseball game and bought a jersey there. I like jerseys that are loose and somewhat baggy, so the one I bought is a little long on me. During the middle of the game I go to get something to drink and I am waiting at the top of the stands to be let back down to my seat. A woman in her 60s or 70s has been glaring at me the entire time I’ve been standing there, but I don’t think anything of it. When a twelve-year-old boy walks up to wait, she storms off and returns with a security guard.)

Woman: *points at me* “There she is, Officer! I want her arrested right now!”

(Everyone is staring at me, and the security guard looks very confused.)

Security Guard: “Her? Um, for what, exactly?”

Woman: “For public indecency! Look at her! She isn’t wearing any pants! And with a child right next to her!”

Boy: “Child?! I’m almost 13!”

Me: “Um, excuse me, but I have pants on; I’m wearing shorts. My jersey is long, so it covers them up. See?” *lifts my jersey up to show her that I AM wearing shorts*

Woman: “Oh, um…”

Security Guard: *turns to the woman* “Ma’am, I think you’d better return to your seat.”

(I told my boyfriend what happened when I got back to my seat. He couldn’t stop laughing at the idea of someone thinking I would walk around a public stadium full of thousands of people with no pants on!)

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Ugly People Get Ugly Views

, , , , , | Friendly | August 30, 2018

(It is our annual county fair. A young and much newer country artist I happen to adore is playing the venue for the first time — before they implemented regulations for seating and VIP — and despite my mom working that day, a school friend of mine invites me to tag along with her family to go to the fair that day, and she even offers to go to the concert with me when they realize how excited I am for it, so I won’t be alone. After waiting in the usual massive line-up before entrance to the arena, we walk in and head straight for the front of the stage — once in the stage grounds, it’s a free-for-all for where you want to go — and wait in another small line-up as security keeps the front of the stage clear until the show starts. We are idly chatting away, inching along the line as it moves, when I feel a tap on my shoulder. Of possible relevance, it should be noted many teenage girls in this area have the “mine” or “me first” mindset, and the singer in question is a relatively attractive guy.)

Girl #1: “Excuse me, but you cut in front of us. We were ahead of you.”

Me: *with a cocked eyebrow* “Uh, no? We’ve been standing in line for a while and even followed the people before us to get to the stage.”

Girl #1: “No, you cut us! We were here way longer than you!”

Me: *getting frustrated* “We’ve waited our turn in line, and once we were let in we came straight here. You were not before us.”

Girl #2: *pipes up behind her friend* “We’ve been here since the fair opened! We were first!”

Me: “I doubt that. Even attendees for far more popular singers line up no sooner than three.”

(I turn back to my friend, rolling my eyes as the three mutter between themselves.)

Girl #1: “Can you believe that?”

Girl #3: “Get security or someone to help. She has no right to be here, anyway.”

Friend: *whispers to me* “Are they for real?”

(I shrug and just keep facing forward, but sure enough… The second girl seeks out and leads a young security guard over to us, complaining loudly about how we are cutters and are cheating them of their concert experience.)

Security: *to me* “Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to step out and move to the back of the line.”

Me: “No, we shouldn’t have to. We’ve been waiting here just as long as the other people before us. They didn’t even appear until we were already waiting for several minutes.”

Security: “You’ve been waiting? Well, I recognize them, but I don’t recognize you, so you have to go.”

(My frustration is peaking at this point and I’m about ready to stop biting my tongue. These girls have been nowhere near us, and this security guard was nowhere near the lineup or arena entrance when we came in. I’m starting to think he’s only favoring them because of their looks. And since you’re free to go wherever once inside the premises, the line isn’t mandatory. It’s just a considerate way to not block the paths to the chairs for other people.)

Me: “We’re not moving. I don’t care if you recognize us or not. They came after us.”

Girl #3: “Just do the right thing and move. You know we were here first and don’t want to admit it. You shouldn’t even be here, anyway.”

Security: “Either go to the back of the line, or I will have you removed from the premises.”

Me: *sighs and gives up* “Fine.” *as I’m walking away with my friend, shaking my head in appalled disbelief* “Come on. I know a better way.”

(We ended up going around the side where more people were waiting for the okay to stand in front of the stage. Since there were fewer people and no “line,” we slipped in with the crowd quite easily and were pushed to the front when the okay was given. It ended up being a fantastic show we got to see from the gate separating the fans from the stage while the three girls were way back, maybe a whole five feet closer from where they started. Karma’s a b****.)

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