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The Eighties Went By In A Flash

, , , , , , | Right | May 26, 2021

My coworker has been a librarian for going on forty years, and between working at the reference desk, the microfiche room — yes, that long! — and the usual circulation and shelving duties, she has seen it all.

Back in the 1980s, the library was having an issue with a serial flasher. A few times a week, patrons would complain about a man with his penis out standing near them in an aisle or over in the study area, but the librarians couldn’t catch him in the act, and he looked and dressed neutrally enough that no one had been able to give a definite description.

My friend was shelving books near the back of the library, in a section where the shelves were not full, leaving space on each shelf and sometimes a gap between the books on one side and those on the other. As she was walking down an aisle with an armload of books, she looked at a shelf and saw… an erect penis, just lying there. One quick glance showed her that the man was standing on the other side of the bookshelf and had… inserted himself into the gap.

Without missing a beat, she dropped her armload of books on his appendage.

She says he made the most terrible noise, stumbled back and hit his head on the shelf behind him, and just stood there moaning. She ducked around and got a good look at him so she could describe him to the other librarians, then said sweetly:

Librarian: “Oh, I’m sorry, did you leave something on the shelf? I didn’t see anything, but I forgot my glasses today.”

There have been other flashers (always a hazard in libraries), but that one was never seen again, according to her.


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Just Sell Them The Bloody Things!

, , , , , | Right | May 14, 2021

I’m in charge of the cashiers. I call a lady forward and she’s a little quiet, but otherwise fine, until I pick up a pair of white pants.

Customer: “Those had… something on them. But I still want them.”

Me: “Oh? Okay, where is the stain? I may even be able to discount them!”

It’s one of the few powers I have, and I don’t mind helping out where I can. But this is where things take a turn. There is blood on the crotch of the pants, and a little down one of the legs. Horrified, I am stunned into silence for several moments.

Me: “I… I don’t think I can sell these. It’s a hazard to health.”

She stays silent and stares at me.

Me: “Is that… is that okay?”

At this point, I am completely at a loss.

Customer: “Yes, that’s fine.”

After she left, it took very little digging to realize she had been the one to bleed on them. I was horrified and revolted that she had let me touch the pants with my bare hands, and I wrapped them in two bags before washing my hands for five minutes straight.

 

A Not-So-Bella Notte

, , , , , | Legal | May 3, 2021

We recently got a new German shepherd puppy named Bella. We live in a decent neighborhood, but there have been several instances of pets going missing. To avoid that, someone is always with Bella.

One day, my mother was alone with Bella in the front yard, and Mom went inside to use the restroom. When she came back, Bella was missing. Mom searched for hours and we joined her when we got back. Mom cried because she felt so guilty, and we were angry with her for leaving Bella alone. 

Then, we got a call from one of our nicer neighbors saying he’d seen Bella and she was with another neighbor whom we did not like and who did not like us. 

My dad and I went to confront the nasty neighbor, and we saw Bella right away in his house, barking her head off. My dad rang the doorbell and the nasty neighbor answered.

Neighbor: “What do you want?”

Dad: “Give us our dog back.”

Neighbor: “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He kept playing stupid. My dad would have punched the dude, but I held him back and called the police. A police car came a few minutes later and we explained the issue. She went to go talk to the neighbor and then asked us to provide proof that Bella was our dog. We showed her the pictures and Bella’s rabies tag, and she ordered the neighbor to give us our dog back. She asked us if we wanted to press charges, and we said yes. Our neighbor was charged with stealing our puppy and lying to police for telling the officer that the dog was his. Now he glares at us every time we’re out, and we’re more careful about watching Bella.


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We Can Only Draw One Conclusion: SHE’S A WITCH!

, , , , , , | Learning | April 21, 2021

My two best friends and I are in sixth grade — age twelve — and have a mandatory art class. We are spending a week drawing houses. Our first assignment is to draw our own house.

[Friend #1] draws her house, but she forgets to draw one of her parents’ bedroom windows. That night, it storms very badly, and a tree falls in such a way that the window she forgot to draw is broken by a tree branch crashing through it.

The next day, we are supposed to draw a house that exists and that we wished we lived in. [Friend #1] draws [Friend #2]’s house, but she forgets to draw the garage. The previous night’s storm had affected the soil of the hill beside that house, and [Friend #2] comes home to find that a tree has fallen on the (empty!) garage. 

The next day, we are supposed to draw the house of a friend. 

Friend #1: “I guess I’ll draw your house, [My Name].”

Me: “Nope! Not allowed! No, thank you, please! I like my house perfectly intact and how it is, thank you very much!”

Friend #1: “But I already drew [Friend #2’s] house!”

Friend #2: “Yeah, and look what happened to it! And what happened to your house! If you forget to draw anything at [My Name’s] house, we won’t be able to go to her sleepover this weekend.”

Me: “Hey, weren’t you friends with [Former Classmate] before she moved?”

Friend #1: “Yeah, why?”

Me: “My mom’s coworker bought it, and Mom said they’re tearing it down so they can build their dream house! So if you mess it up with your weird drawing power, it won’t matter!”

Friend #1: “I don’t think I had anything to do with the garage or the windows, but fine, whatever.”

[Friend #1] draws [Former Classmate]’s house, forgetting to draw the sizable front deck. That house is on a very busy road, right across from a T-intersection. As my mom picks me up from school, she tells me we are taking a different way home than usual.

Mom: “Yeah, it’s a good thing [Former Classmate] moved! Someone crashed into her house and destroyed the deck.”

I call [Friend #1] when I get home and relay the information. 

Friend #1: “Okay, you know what? Fine. I thought you and [Friend #2] were just being weird about all this, but I guess I have to believe you. I’m drawing made-up houses the rest of the week.”

Make Your Bloodwork Work For You

, , , , , , , | Healthy | April 15, 2021

I have a coworker who brags about never answering her phone if she doesn’t recognize the number. I’m not sure what the big deal is; if it’s a telemarketer just hang up. Also, she says she never listens to voicemails because if it’s important they’ll call back.

Recently, she went to her doctor on a Friday because she had been feeling terrible for a while. The doctor took bloodwork and she went home.

The doctor’s office then spent the rest of the weekend trying to call her and tell her to go to the emergency room based on her test results. However, she didn’t recognize the number so she didn’t answer it.

Finally, they were able to call her next of kin, and he called her to go to the ER.