Parking Here Over Their Dead Body

, , , | Friendly | July 17, 2018

(My friend works for an animal crematorium. The company provides cremation services for pets as well as farm animals, and has accounts with medical and veterinary schools in the area to handle animals used for educational purposes, such as dissection. Part of my friend’s job is to drive a circuit around town, picking up the animals in a well-marked van at the places that have requested service that day. He has this encounter with strangers several times a week. He parks his van in the designated spot. A car pulls in behind him as he is getting out.)

Friend: “Excuse me. You cannot park here. This is a loading zone.”

Stranger: “There’s plenty of room. There’s like, three spaces.”

Friend: “Yes, there is plenty of space. And I will need it. Because this is a loading zone.”

Stranger: “Come on. It’s fine. You don’t need all that space.”

Friend: *pointing to the name of the company clearly painted on the side of the van* “I see. And will you feel that way when I bring a body out?”

(Somehow, these people are always suddenly in a hurry to move their cars.)

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That Warm Fuzzy Feeling Isn’t Blood-Loss

, , , , , , | Hopeless | July 15, 2018

I’m donating blood for the first time. I made an attempt a few years ago, but was rejected because I weighed too little. Since then, I’ve been trying to keep my weight at a healthy level, waiting for an opportunity to try again, but not really making it a top priority.

While I’m waiting to get called in for evaluation, I notice an elderly man walking around talking to the other donors. He eventually comes up and starts talking to me. It turns out that this man has bone cancer, and is dependent on blood donations every three weeks for his health. He is making it his personal mission to thank all of us, because it is people like us that made sure he could live to see his two grandsons’ birthdays.

I get through the rest of it with a smile on my face, thinking about giving what I have to someone who needs it. It’s nice to be able to help people, but to see what exactly a simple blood donation can do really gives me a warm fuzzy feeling. Rest assured, I’ll be back to do it again when the 56-day rest period between shots ends.

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An Up-Top Down-Under Conversation

, , , , , , | Friendly | July 14, 2018

(I have just finished my holiday in Tenerife and am eating at an airport restaurant, sitting at a bar. An Australian man sits next to me.)

Aussie: *looks straight at me* “You all right, mate?”

Me: “Yeah, I’m good, thanks, just waiting for my plane.”

(We talk for a bit, and then he asks…)

Aussie: “So, where you from? USA?”

Me: *laugh* “No, I’m from England. I’m guessing your Australian, though?”

Aussie: “Yeah, I am. Nice, so, you’re from the Up-Top-Australia, eh?”

(I just stare at him for a few seconds and burst out laughing.)

Aussie: *confused chuckle* “What’s so funny?”

Me: “Never in my life have I ever heard England described as the ‘Up-Top-Australia.'”

Aussie: “So, what do you call Australia?”

Me: “Either ‘Australia,’ or we refer to it as ‘down under.'”

Aussie: “Really?”

Me: “Does everyone in the down-low-England call England that?”

Aussie: “No.”

Me: “So, you never thought in that time that England wasn’t known as that?”

Aussie: *laughing* “Never noticed, I guess. So Australia is the only country you call by a nickname? Nothing for say, Nigeria?”

(As I am about to say no, another dude from an unknown region, who has been listening a lot more than we realised, interjects and says:)

Random Guy: “Well, I call it ‘N*****-Country.’”

(We both stare at this guy.)

Random Guy: “I think I misread the conversation.” *pays and leaves*

(With a hour until my flight, the gates open I start to leave.)

Me: “Well, that was a funny conversation; thanks for the entertainment.”

Aussie: “It was an absolute pleasure, mate. Until next we meet, my up-most compadre.”

Me: *furiously trying to think of a witty thing to say* “See you, my downy friend.”

(Mentally bashing my head against the wall, I left, chuckling to myself.)

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Will You Please Just Pokémon-Go Away?

, , , , | Friendly | July 9, 2018

(My mom and I are on a bus together on a mutual day off. I went into the city to play Pokémon Go, while she needed to run errands and asked me to keep her company first. The errands run way longer than expected, and she apologizes and lets me pick where we go for what’s left of the day. I’m playing while talking to her, and she’s even looking at my game and commenting about it the moment a middle-aged man moves from his seat to sit across from us.)

Man: *to me* “Now, ma’am, I have to say something. You see this person sitting next to you? They are your best friend.”

Me: *giving him a dead-eyed stare* “That’s my mom.”

Man: “They are your best friend. And you’re on your phone, talking to your Internet friends. Now, you see, you can have your Internet friends…or you can have your best friend. You can’t have both of them.”

(I raise a perfect Spock Eyebrow and keep staring at him. He is looking at me for reaction, and looks like he might even keep going until he sees the look my mom, who doesn’t suffer lightly idiots, mansplainers, or weird men approaching her daughter, is giving to him. The guy silently decides to move back to his original seat with the air of someone who has imparted great wisdom.)

Me: “Soooo, I guess we can’t be Facebook friends anymore?”

Mom: *rolls her eyes and shakes her head* “Go catch another coconut tree-thing.”

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Making A Wrong Number Even More Wrong

, , , , | Romantic | July 9, 2018

(It’s late at night and I get a call from a number I don’t recognize. I usually answer, anyway, so I can include telemarketers in my block-call list. I’m female and the caller is male.)

Me: “Hello?”

Caller: “Hey, girl! Wassup?”

Me: “I think you have the wrong number.”

Caller: “Woah. You’re not my baby momma.”

Me: “Nope.”

Caller: *pauses* “So, what’re you doing?”

Me: “I think you need to call your girl.” *hangs up*

(I don’t know what that guy was thinking! I was suddenly going to flirt with an unknown stranger who had a girlfriend or wife?)

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