The North Pole Is Bitingly Cold

, , , , , , | Right | December 26, 2018

(During the Christmas season I am a seasonal associate at a department store as my first job. An older woman comes up with some Christmas decorations, including a flat-bottomed Santa designed to be put on mantles.)

Me: “Good afternoon. Thank you for shopping at [Store]. Did you find everything you were looking for?”

Customer: “I did! Thank you. This Santa is on sale.”

Me: “That’s great! We do have some great deals going on.”

(She leans down to the Santa before handing it over.)

Customer: “If you don’t ring up at the right price, bite her.”

Me: “…?!”

(Luckily, the Santa rang up at the right price.)

Not Getting Your Just Desserts

, , , , , | Working | January 11, 2018

(I am having a bad day and decide to get some ice cream to help cheer me up. My roommate goes with me to a restaurant near us. They have a brownie sundae on the menu that I’ve been meaning to try.)

Waitress: “What can I get you?”

Roommate: “I’ll have the cheese fries.”

Me: “And I’d like the brownie sundae, please.”

Waitress: “Sure thing!”

(She leaves and comes back a few minutes later.)

Waitress: “So, um, you wanted ice cream on your sundae, right?”

Me: “Yes?”

Waitress: “My boss just told me it doesn’t come with ice cream, but you can add it for a dollar.”

Me: “What does it come with?”

Waitress: “Just, like, chocolate sauce and whipped cream. I can push for us to give it to you, and argue that it’s misrepresented on the menu.”

Me: “No… I guess I’ll just have it without.”

Waitress: “Okay. Your food should be right up.”

(She brings our food and sets down a slab of cold brownie with the saddest, deflated dollop of whipped cream on it.)

Waitress: “We’re, um, not really known for our desserts.”

(The cheese fries were still great, as usual, and of course, we tipped her, but I won’t be ordering dessert from them any time soon!)

A Degree In Awesome

, , , , , , | Learning | November 1, 2017

(I am in a political science class doing a lecture on the Constitution.)

Teacher: “I will give a degree to anyone who can recite the preamble to the Constitution from memory.”

(After a moment, I shakily raise my hand. He nods at me to proceed.)

Me: “We the people, in order to… Um, I have to sing it.”

Teacher: *slightly puzzled* “Uh, go ahead.”

(I then sang the Schoolhouse Rock preamble song that had been drilled into my head for years. The class applauded, my teacher wrote my degree title on a sheet of notebook paper, and one student insisted on calling me Kelly Clarkson for the rest of the class. It was my crowning achievement in college.)