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Live Free Or Twihard

, , , , | Friendly | February 20, 2021

I am sitting on a bench reading a book. As it is old, my mother has made it a plastic cover to protect the original from fading. There’s a group of men on a nearby bench, and one of them has been glaring at me and making comments to his friends that I can’t quite hear. I’m starting to get uncomfortable and decide it is best to leave, but as soon as I close my book, the man gets up and trots up to me.

Man: “Hey, you haven’t been reading that long. What, did something happen to your favorite fairy?”

Me: “My… what?”

Man: “Do you actually think vampires are all shiny and broody like that? God, all you teen girls like the same trash.”

I stare at him, trying to process what is happening, and then it finally hits me. The plastic cover of my book is black, and this guy probably confused it with a rather trashy popular vampire novel. I take my book back out, remove the cover and show it to him.

Me: “Actually, this is a collection of Lovecraft’s works. I also carry Dracula with me, since I am almost done with this one.”

Man: “Oh… um, those are… very good reads… I, um…”

He stuttered all the way back to his bench, where his friends were pretending not to know him. 

For the record, I dislike [Popular Novel] with a passion, but I do not attack people for reading it. Hey, at least they read.

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When Push Comes To Punch

, , , , | Learning | February 6, 2021

When I’m in school, maybe nine years old, a new government program gives all children from elementary to high school little laptops with little functionality, aimed to teach kids about technology. Since they can go on the Internet, most kids use them to play games.

I’m sitting outside my classroom before class with a friend and a classmate, with the latter’s five-year-old sister standing near. I have come to hate this child because every time her kinder class crosses paths with mine, she aims to do her best to annoy me, including trying to steal whatever I am holding or have near me.

We are all playing games on our little laptops, nobody is paying attention to the kid, and I have my laptop bag next to me on the bench. The kid approaches her sister and suddenly snatches my bag and takes off through the courtyard. I put my laptop aside and take off after her, expecting to have to force a bathroom door open or call a teacher, because that’s where she usually runs to. But when we are nearing the restroom doors, the girl trips on a loose tile, falls on her face, and starts crying.

I stop, take my bag, and start walking back, but my classmate’s younger brother intercepts me, followed by his sister.

Brother: “You pushed my sister! What the f*** is wrong with you?!”

Me: “I didn’t even to—”

He punches me right in the mouth and I throw a punch back, but his sister and my friends manage to pull us apart. I walk off holding back tears out of pride, and I spend the rest of the day tasting blood.

When the classes are done, I spot my mom amongst the crowd of parents waiting outside our classroom and run to her, but I am stopped by another woman yanking my arm violently.

Woman: “Who the h*** do you think you are, pushing a little girl?! I should teach you some f****** manners myself, you little monster!”

I am starting to cry because this strange woman is screaming in my face and is still holding my arm. Then, I spot the little demon grinning behind her. Next to her is her brother, glaring at me, and then my classmate, pale as a ghost and trying to step away from her family. In the middle of the third or fourth time the woman calls me some form of the words “monster” or “bully,” another voice, equally as angry, rises above the yells.

Mom: “Excuse me.”

My mom makes her way to us, yanks the woman away from me, and hides me behind her.

Mom: “What gives you the right to touch my daughter?”

Woman: “Your little monster pushed my baby to the ground and then punched my boy in the face! I should call the police on you right now!”

My mom turns to me with a questioning look. By now I am in a complete panic, sobbing and hiccuping, but I am able to tell my side, including the brother punching me first. By the time I finish, the brother is trying to hide behind his older sister, and the sister has started defensively crying. Their mother explodes in expletives and curses, but this time talking to her kids.

Woman: “I did not raise you to steal and lie to me, [Sister]! Why in the h***—”

We didn’t hear the rest of it because my mom pulled me away and out of the school, muttering about crazy people and reassuring me that I’d done nothing wrong. 

The next day, the little demon and her brother stayed as far away from me as possible. My classmate came up to me and apologised many times for her siblings’ actions and for not stopping either of them. She turned out to be one of the sweetest girls I ever met, which still baffles me, having witnessed her mother’s behaviour.

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Avengers… Assemble The Cake!

, , | Right | January 24, 2021

I’m at the grocery store shopping for cookie ingredients. A middle-aged woman walks up to me while I look for something extra to put on the cookies.

Customer: “Excuse me, where is the [Brand] caramelized milk?”

I figure she asked me because I was looking intently at the shelves, and I look around a little.

Me: “Well, seems like there isn’t any. Sometimes it’s on sale at the end of the aisle; hold on.”

I leave to check around the corner and come back.

Me: “Nope, nothing. Seems they ran out.”

Customer: “Oh, that’s too bad. You see, I wanted [Brand] to make a cake, but this [Other Brand] is always too sweet, and this other—”

She continues rambling about caramelized milk brands and I end up tuning her out because she starts mumbling and talking while looking away. I reassume staring at the shelf, assuming she’s just talking alone by now, when suddenly she whips back and stares at me.

Customer: “Are you sure you don’t have [Brand]?”

Me: “Uh… no.”

Customer: “You work here, right?”

I looked down at my Captain America shirt and shook my head. She then rambled some more, this time about powdered sugar, before grabbing a different brand and stalking off, leaving me to wonder if the Avengers worked the morning shift.

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Paging [Cashier]’s Brain To The Checkout

, , , , , | Working | July 1, 2020

A friend and I, both aged eighteen and looking rather younger, are going to a grocery store to buy party supplies, and my mom asks me to buy some beer. We get to the checkout and notice a sign next to the register.

Sign: “You need to be eighteen to buy alcohol. All people who look younger than forty will need to show their ID. No exceptions.”

I pull my ID out, but then I realise that the cashier has already bagged our stuff and is counting our change.

Me: “Wait, aren’t you going to check our IDs?”

I point at the sign. The cashier stares at the sign for several seconds, then at us, then back at the sign.

Cashier: “Why?”

We look at each other, confused.

Friend: “It says there that you have to check our IDs for the beer.”

We try to hand her our IDs, but she doesn’t even move or acknowledge it.

The cashier stares at the conveyor belt.

Cashier: “Can you keep moving? You are holding up my line.”

We looked at the non-existent line, shrugged, and grabbed our things. As we were leaving the store, we spotted a manager walking over to the cashier looking ANGRY. We never saw that cashier again.

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Pass Me Once, Shame On You…

, , , | Right | March 5, 2020

(I’m a regular at a fashion shop and I’m going to the changing rooms with two items to try on. There’s a customer with no items in her hands standing behind a second customer waiting to try her items. Also, there’s a girl working for the store that calls out when a room is free.)

Me: *to [Customer #1]* “Excuse me, are you in line for a room?”

Customer #1: “No, I’m just waiting for someone.”

(She moves away from the line. [Customer #2], who was before her, goes in and then it’s my turn.)

Worker: *to me* “You can go in number five now.”

Me: “Great! Thanks.”

(I’m about to go when [Customer #1] comes in front of me with two new items.)

Customer #1: “I was here first! It’s my turn, not hers! It’s my turn!”

Me: “Whatever, just go.”

Worker: “Wow. It was your turn, right? I saw you ask her earlier if she was in line and she said no.”

Me: “Yes, I know. I just don’t want to make any trouble; she seemed agitated.”

(Another room is free and I start walking when [Customer #3] pushes me and tries to go in.)

Worker: “Excuse me, ma’am, this young lady was here before you. You need to go back to the line and wait for your turn.”

Customer #3: “I’m with [Customer #1], so I get to go in with her.”

Worker: “I’m sorry but I can’t allow two people in the same room. Please wait for your turn.”

(I start walking to the room when the worker starts walking with me.)

Worker: “There was no way someone else was going to pass in front of you again!”

Me: “Thanks a lot! Have a great day!”

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