For Halloween, our office had a costume contest. We had some great submissions, including a clownfish (complete with anemone), No Face, Ash Ketchum, and Red Riding Hood. One of my coworkers adorned her service dog with butterfly wings.

Since I didn’t really have a costume, I joked around and told everyone I was a video game NPC (Non-Player Character). They got a laugh out of that one.

Finally, another one of my coworkers came in normal clothes, with a nametag that just read “Token Black Guy”.

I voted for him.

A couple have been dining with us for a few hours. Between the two of them, they have eaten A LOT! They’ve been friendly, fun, and all-around awesome customers. 

They pay in cash and leave. I check, and they’ve left me a great tip, along with a note.

Note: “The first fifty is for the great service and food! The second fifty is to make up for the Jackson Pollack I left in the restroom.”

Me: “Oh… oh no.”

I go and show the note to my manager.

Manager: “Ah, man. Is that from the man or the woman?”

We hear a gasp from the men’s restroom.

Me: “I’m gonna guess it’s from the dude…”

I grew up hunting and appreciate being able to process the meat myself. I have become friends with a neighbor of mine and cooked some venison for her when she and her wife were over for dinner, and she really enjoyed it. We got to talking about hunting and preparing your own meat, and the welfare of wild animals vs farmed animals, and she decided she wanted to go hunting with me this year.

So she got her license and went with me to a hunting lease my family goes to every year. I get a deer, and while we are breaking it down, I ask if she would like me to cook some venison steaks for dinner. She says sure and so I cut the steaks and throw them on the grill, and she gives me this horrified look.

Me: “What’s wrong? Why are you looking like I have two heads?”

Neighbor: “You just took that straight from the deer onto the grill! That’s why!”

Me: “Well… yeah? You’ve had venison before and said you wanted some for dinner.”

Neighbor: “But you didn’t make it safe to eat!”

Me: “It’s cooking right now. What do you mean?”

Neighbor: “You have to process the meat like they do at the butcher shop for it to be safe!”

Me: “What exactly is it you think that a butcher does to make it different?”

Neighbor: “I don’t know! Process it! You can’t just eat things straight from an animal!”

Me: “I promise you it’s fine. I have been hunting for a long time. The animal was healthy, and the meat is perfectly safe to eat.”

She refuses to eat it and drops the whole concept of hunting ever again.

My friend works as a server at a Tex-Mex restaurant, and relayed to me this story. [Friend] was serving a group of four college-aged young men. One of the four ordered their Mexican chicken soup, which, like much of their menu, is a bit spicy.

[Friend] is making her “two bite” check-up on the table, and notices Mr. Chicken Soup simply sitting there, not eating.

Friend: “How is everything here?”

The group nods, mouths mostly full of food.

Mr. Chicken Soup: “We’re good here.”

Friend: “Is the soup okay?”

Mr. Chicken Soup: “Yeah, it just came out a bit too hot, so I’m waiting for it to cool down.”

Friend: “All right. Well, let me know if you need anything!”

[Friend] goes off to tend to other tables, then eventually circles back to the foursome. The three other diners are already more than halfway done with their respective meals. Mr. Chicken Soup looks like he still hasn’t eaten a single spoonful.

Friend: “Is your soup still too hot, sir?

Mr. Chicken Soup: “Yeah, but it’s okay. I’ll just wait for it to cool down more.”

Friend: “Are you certain there isn’t anything else I can get for you?”

Mr. Chicken Soup: “No, I’ll just wait. It’s fine.”

Other Guest: “Dude, are you sure? We’re all nearly done eating, and you still haven’t even touched your soup!”

Mr. Chicken Soup: “It’s just still too hot. I’m fine waiting.”

[Friend] offers to refill the few empty drinks at the table, then leaves them again until the three other guests are clearly done eating. They’ve even stacked their dishes into one pile and set it to the side of the table to make it easier to clear away. Even now, Mr. Chicken Soup still hasn’t eaten his soup, save maybe a couple of trial spoonfuls.

Friend: “Are you all wanting dessert? Did you want a to-go container for your soup?”

Mr. Chicken Soup: “I’m honestly surprised it’s still as hot as it is! I should have been able to eat it by now!”

Suddenly, one of the other guests places his hands on the sides of the soup bowl sitting in front of Mr. Chicken Soup.

Other Guest: “Dude! This bowl is colder than the room! How is it still too hot to eat?!”

Mr. Chicken Soup: “Well, yeah, it feels cold, but it still tastes hot. Like, how long does it take for the spiciness to cool down?!”

[Friend] and the other guests at the table all just stare at this guy, trying to process what he just said.

Other Guest #1: “Seriously, dude?!”

Other Guest #2: “Oh my GOD, Gavin!

Other Guest #3: “I swear we can’t take you anywhere.”

Other Guest #2: “Spiciness doesn’t “cool down” like temperature does, Nimrod!”

Other Guest #3: “You’ve literally been making us all wait this WHOLE TIME because you expected the soup to get less spicy?!”

Mr. Chicken Soup: “Well… but I thought…”

This man, now known as Gavin, was obviously at a loss for words to explain his thought process (or lack thereof), and his friends just started ribbing him vehemently. 

My Friend offered to get him a to-go container and a few large dollops of sour cream to help temper the spiciness, in addition to the table’s check, as it was clear the other three were more than ready to leave. My Friend and I hope Gavin is doing better now that he has learned this critical life lesson.

I work in a big box electronics store. A customer walks in and immediately demands:

Customer: “What’s your best, most expensive TV?”

Me: “Well, what’s best and what’s expensive doesn’t always mean the same thing, sir. Maybe if you could describe your home setup I could—”

Customer: “—d*** it, boy, just tell me what’s the most expensive TV y’all got up in here.”

I show him our largest-sized, 8K OLED TV with all the bells and whistles.

Customer: “I’ll take it!”

I get the warehouse guys to wheel a box out while I am processing the transaction out front with the customer.

Customer: “Yessir, we’re all gonna be rich soon! Time to enjoy the finer things in life!”

Since he seems so happy and willing to talk, I ask him:

Me: “Did you recently come into some money, sir?”

Customer: “We all did!”

Me: “We… did?”

Customer: “Stay informed, boy! The president changed it from the Gulf Of Mexico to the Gulf Of America! We own it now! Now we can drill, baby, drill! Black gold!”

Me: *Noticing the card he’s paying with.* “You’re getting an expensive TV on a credit card because… because the president calls it the Gulf Of America?”

Customer: “I’ll be paying this off by next month, just you see!”

I did “see” that next month, when I saw him trying to return the TV for a full refund. Unfortunately, he was outside our thirty-day return window, but all that oil money, any day now, amirite?!