Hoping It Was Just An Act

, , , , , , | Learning | June 11, 2017

At the school I went to, we were required to take either speech class or acting class in order to graduate. I decided to go with acting. I quickly realize I’m going to have serious problems, because the teacher speaks in half-sentences and expects people to know what she means. I can’t decipher the homework instructions and get yelled at if I ask for clarification. She even seems to develop a special dislike towards me. If another member of my team forgets a line, I get yelled at for it. Etc.

One day, we are performing a comedy skit. My entire team nails it! I’m playing the central role, and we get laughs from the whole class. At the post-performance critique, the teacher even praises some of my improvised lines.

The next day, the teacher scolds me, in front of the whole class, for being absent on the day my team performed! All six people I worked with have to vouch for the fact that I was there. She eventually relents, but gives me a bad grade for the project because she says my performance must have been lousy if she can’t remember me being there.

I ended up failing that class. The same teacher taught speech, and I couldn’t cope with the idea of having to deal with her again. Because it was a graduation requirement, I actually had to get a GED instead of graduating.

Theater Groups Love Drama

, , , | Hopeless | June 10, 2017

I’m 17 and newly in university when I join a volunteer theater group, and at first I think it’s going great. One of the directors even invites me to the regional convention, when it usually takes two or three years to be invited. Then we get there, and I realize that the director brought me along as a scapegoat.

She insists that I overstepped my bounds and invited myself along, she spreads rumors about me, she convinces the rest of the group that she heard me making racist comments, and generally does everything she can to make me miserable. I can’t say anything without coming off as whiny or lying, since I just joined, and she’s been a respected member of the group for years.

I’ve always had social anxiety problems, and coupled with the fact that we’re two states away and I don’t have a way home besides a guy who gave me a ride and now thinks I’m a racist scumbag, it’s a nightmare.

It is halfway through the second day, and things are bad enough that I am contemplating hitchhiking home, no matter what happened, when one of the girls in the group, who I’ve never really talked to before, comes over. She hands me a drink and tells me, “Ignore those jerks. I haven’t heard anything from you other than you being friendly and shy, and I think you’re pretty okay.” She stays close to me through the rest of the weekend and makes sure I have a way to get home, and she is pretty much the only reason I got through that convention.

We both left the group soon after, for similar reasons, and my life improved hugely. Eight years later, she’s still one of my best friends. She’s getting married soon, and I’m making the wedding dresses for both her and her wife, and I couldn’t be happier for the two of them. I don’t know if she realizes she may have saved my life that weekend, but I’m delighted to have the chance to do something in return for her.

The Sauce Of Their Confusion

, , , , | Working | June 10, 2017

(I go to get a hotdog from a stand. The man puts it in the bun and automatically reaches for the sauces.)

Me: “Oh, no, could I just have it plain, please?”

Employee: “What?”

Me: “No ketchup or mustard.”

Employee: “But I don’t know how to make it without them.”

Me: “Just don’t put them on.”

Employee: *spends a while mentally processing this then hands me the hotdog, still looking confused*

Try Some Phish Food Instead

, , , , | Romantic | June 10, 2017

(My husband and I are trying to figure out what to have for dinner.)

Husband: “I mean there’s seafood… or breakfast food. Breakfast fish?”

Me: “I’m not so sure breakfast fish is a thing.”

Husband: “Well you never know. I mean, there’s fish candy.”

Me: “You mean Swedish fish?”

Husband: “Yes.”

Me: “Those aren’t fish flavored.”

Husband: “Oh.”

(Pause.)

Me: “Did you really think they were fish flavored?”

Husband: “Little bit.”

(After some more thought, we realized there ARE breakfast fish dishes: kippers, smoked salmon, and fried catfish and eggs, among others.. But Swedish fish still aren’t fish flavored.)

Counting Your Change And Your Insults

, , , , , | Right | June 10, 2017

(A few years ago, I was working nights in a convenience store to earn a little extra money while I was in college. One evening, a lady pulls up on her motorcycle and comes inside to pay for a pack of cigarettes… entirely in change.)

Me: *counting out the change*

Customer: “Can you get on with it?”

Me: “I apologize, ma’am, but it’s store policy to verify the purchase amount.”

Customer: *disgusted noise*

(Finally, the purchase is squared away.)

Customer: “Also, can you give me directions to [Neighboring Town]?”

Me: “Of course! It’s only a few blocks to the turn, but there’s some construction on [Local Street #1] so you’ll have to make a detour onto [Local Street #2].”

Customer: “What?”

Me: *explains again, this time drawing a map on a spare piece of paper*

Customer: “Well, that makes no sense at all. You know, this is probably why you work at a place like this. You’re not smart enough to get a job anywhere else.”

(I was too stunned to reply before she left the store. For the record, I graduated in three years with a degree in microbiology.)

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