Finally Got Your Goat

, , , , , | Friendly | December 12, 2017

(We farm goats. Sometimes first-time nanny goats have twins, and sometimes they reject one of the twins. When this happens, we have to bottle-feed the rejected kid. The first few weeks, it’s pretty much a 24/7 proposition, but not one that’s too hard to take as kids are mobile pretty much from the get-go, and small enough to be portable. It also helps that they’re adorable. Rather than cancel a camping trip, I take a red-brown female kid trailer-camping with my family.)

Campers #1, #2, and #3: *all separate occasions* “What kind of a dog is that?”

Me: “She’s not a dog; she’s a goat. I’m bottle-raising her.”

(Reactions range from “cool!” to “that’s stupid,” and I quickly grow weary of folk who can’t tell a goat from a dog.)

Camper #4: “What kind of a dog is that?”

Me: “She’s a Chupacabra-doodle.”

1 Thumbs

The Lights Are Off But Someone’s Home

, , , , , | Friendly | December 12, 2017

(When I move to St. Petersburg and get a phone number [in the days of all land lines], the number I receive has previously been that of an electrical contractor. I receive many calls from people looking to contact them. I usually just say that they no longer have this number, and I don’t know if they are still in business, and then hang up. But late one night, nearly midnight, I get a call from what is obviously an elderly lady. I go through my usual spiel, but before I can hang up, she becomes so obviously distressed that I continue to talk with her.)

Her: “Oh, dear. I don’t know what to do.”

Me: “About what?”

Her: “None of my lights are working.” *I immediately suspect a power outage.*

Me: “So, why are you trying to call the electrical contractor?”

Her: “They did work for me last year, and I thought they could help.”

Me: “I see. Well, your area is probably just having a power outage.”

Her: “What should I do?”

(At this point I suspect she’s one of those widows that had a husband take care of everything for her, and she genuinely doesn’t know what to do.)

Me: “Can you look outside and see if anyone else has lights on?”

Her: “Yes, I can see outside. No lights anywhere.”

Me: “Almost certainly a power outage. I have a phone number for you to call. Do you have a flashlight and something to write on and with?”

Her: “Yes.”

(I then told her the local power company’s outage number [brief outages were so common that I had the number memorized], and told her that she’d get a recording asking her to leave her address and phone number. I explained that they monitored the incoming recordings, and if she was the first in her area to call, that she’d be the reason everyone in her area got their power back, because her call would be the one to let the power company know to get working on the issue. She seemed happy about that [neighborhood savior], and bid me goodnight, and hung up. She was pleasant, but she also convinced me to make sure that any wife I had [I was single at the time] would know how to deal with things like that.)

1 Thumbs

Karma Rewards Patience

, , , , , | Right | December 12, 2017

(I work the overnight shift at a location that has two drive-thru lanes. A young woman pulls up in the drive-thru.)

Me: “Your total is $3.47, miss.”

Female Customer: “Thanks. Could I also pay for the guy behind me? I accidentally cut him off.”

Me: “Of course! That’s so nice!”

(I process her order but have to call a manager since she is using the same card twice. The whole time the guy behind her is revving his engine, clearly irritated. I finally get her the second receipt and the guy behind her suddenly guns it around her and pulls out of the parking lot. Both she and I just sit there, dumbfounded.)

Me: “Well, I guess he really didn’t want to wait. I’ll get the manager to refund that order for you.”

(Kudos to the young girl for being willing to pay for him in the first place and then for being patient so we could refund her. The staff working that night had a good laugh about it.)

1 Thumbs

Making It Glaringly Obvious

, , , , , , | Friendly | December 8, 2017

I was with a group of coworkers and we were grabbing a bite to eat. Not long after we were seated and eating, a man who seemed to be in his 60s sat at a table nearby so he was facing us. Then, the whole time we were eating, he glared at us. He never once looked away and definitely gave a look that could kill. As soon as we finished and vacated the table, he quickly moved to sit there. My coworkers and I exchanged glances, then shrugged it off.

The next time we were there, we spotted the older guy glaring at the family sitting at “his” table. They eventually grew uncomfortable and left quickly. Once again, the guy took a seat at the table.

Guess where we sat the next time we came in?

1 Thumbs

I Know Which Parent Gets A Black Mark

, , , | Friendly | December 7, 2017

(I am a 13-year-old girl. My family goes to a small, very relaxed church. They actually advertise that you can wear anything to church; it doesn’t matter. Being a teenager, I wear mostly band shirts and black everything. I’ve heard some grumblings behind my back about what I wear, but I don’t mind too much. There is a couple and their little girl who are fairly new to our church, are obviously well off, and always show up in expensive suits and dresses. They have been nothing but nice to me so far. I help out a lot with the children services during the sermons. It is Easter and everyone is taking pictures, so I have dressed up with a fancy black skirt and light green blouse and done my hair and makeup. I’ve received a lot of compliments about how I look. After pictures, I am in the children’s room playing with the younger ones. The well-off couple’s little girl, who is about four, comes over and touches my hair.)

Little Girl: “Your hair is so soft and pretty!”

Me: “Thank you! I love your hair, too!”

Little Girl: “Yeah, you actually look nice for once!”

(With that, the little girl ran off to play with someone else. I know she was trying to compliment me, and I also know who she heard that from. Don’t underestimate what you say around your kids!)

1 Thumbs