Tearing Down Whatever You Built Up

, , , , , | Learning | June 1, 2017

One of the classes I take is basically a shop class. Our midterm grade is to build something for the area Inventor’s Fair.

I have a “friend” who can’t flesh out an original idea to save her life and while I have an idea, I can’t make it work. We end up partnering up — she fixes my idea– and we have the entirety of winter break to build the prototype and make the project’s poster-board and everything else for it. Well, we agree that I’ll do the research and poster-board because I’m not very good building things.

Halfway into break, I have the audacity to ask for pictures of the project for the board. She says, “Well, I built it, but it’s at my dad’s house in South Carolina and it wouldn’t fit in my bag to go on the plane home.”

I smelled bull-s***. But I thought, hey, we have a week still. It’ll be fine.

Every time I ask, and it gets to the point I’m asking everyday, she insists it’s at her dad’s, that he won’t send the pictures, that he’s being lazy, etc.

At this point I’m already rewriting the board and putting together a s*** prototype but a prototype which is the largest part of our grade.

Well, we present it, and she b****es eight ways to Sunday about the “plainness” of our board, and gets herself in trouble for continuing to decorate when the teacher says time’s up.

We go up and present. I have to present just about EVERYTHING because this girl doesn’t know a thing about what I had to do. All the pics are of me working, and the prototype is all my work.

Well, we survive, and I open up for questions and this girl says, before anyone can ask anything, “Just so you know, we had a better prototype that was pretty and well-made and all, but my dad’s being a butt and won’t send it.”

If looks could kill, I don’t know if the teacher or I would have killed her first.

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Ignorer The Explorer

, , | Right | June 1, 2017

(I work at a lube/mechanical service shop. It’s my job to answer the phones and take payments. I announce cars to the lobby when they are ready.)

Me: “Ford for Ling. Ford Explorer for Mr. Ling”.

(A clearly Hispanic woman walks up to the counter.)

Customer: “Sí.”

Me: “I have this under a Chao Ling. Is that okay?”

Customer: “Yes, yes, yes.”

Me: “So for the Ford Explorer for Ling today I have a standard oil change and a light bulb replacement. That will be $26.98.”

Customer: “Yes, yes. Sí.”

(I cash her out, she wanders off to the parking lot, and leaves. All the finished cars have the keys inside; we have extensive cameras everywhere). An hour later an Asian man shows up.)

New Customer: “Hello, I am here for the Ford Explorer. Chao Ling.”

Me: *raging in my head* “FFFFFOOOOOO.”

(It turned out the Hispanic lady had not only a totally different car, she also had a full synthetic oil change ($59.99), a tire rotation ($19.99), an engine flush, and both differential services (a combo deal for $140.00). A lovely total of $219.98. So the shop was pretty darn mad at me. For the love of all that is good, PAY ATTENTION!)

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Will Show You Where To Put That Needle

, , , , | Learning | June 1, 2017

(I am blind and am going to a non-special education school for the first time. I have a seeing eye dog, as well as technology, like being able to use the eye-sight help apps on my phone during the school day. I am also exempt from the sewing class, and instead work on homework during the two weeks we have it. Some variation of this happens everyday, as the school can’t keep a teacher’s assistant.)

Teacher’s Assistant: “Why isn’t she sewing? She should be sewing!”

Teacher: “She’s [My Name]? Surely you remember having to go through training again?”

Teacher’s Assistant: “Oh, she’s that one? I still think she should be sewing!”

Teacher: “SHE CAN’T SEW!”

Teacher’s Assistant: “I’ll get her a needle!”

(It’s a wonder I survived that year.)

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Crazy, Practical, Love

, , , , | Romantic | June 1, 2017

(My boyfriend and I are getting ready to go to a convention. We’re cosplaying as a couple of ‘Bioshock’ Splicers, creepy creatures in ripped-up 50s formal wear, and we’re getting ready to leave when I remember something.)

Me: “Oooh, hang on.”

(I pull on a pair of shorts I made from cut-down leggings. They go down to about mid-thigh, but you can’t see them under my dress.)

Boyfriend: “What are those for?”

Me: “To keep my thighs from rubbing together. I don’t want to get halfway through the con and then be whining about chafing and how uncomfortable I am; I want to be able to go late!”

(He gets kind of a funny look, and I immediately get nervous. A couple of my exes had criticized me for only wearing sports bras and not being more feminine, and wearing shorts under a dress isn’t exactly sexy. To my surprise though, he draws me into a deep kiss.)

Boyfriend: “God, I love how practical you are. Let’s put our fake blood on, and go rock this con!”

(We did end staying at the rave and the all-night arcade until almost four am, and we had a blast!)

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Seasoned With Laughter

, , , | Friendly | June 1, 2017

(I’m known as the picky eater in my friend group. I never get anything on my sandwiches, no seasoning or anything. On this occasion, I go to get a sandwich from a restaurant where my friend works.)

Friend: *quietly* “I need to tell you something, but I need to wait for the other customers to leave.”

Me: “Okay…?”

(I’m very confused as to what he’s talking about. The other customers leave and his manager walks into the back room.)

Friend: *shouting* “F*** YOU, YOU’RE GETTING ITALIAN SEASONING!”

(It took me a few minutes to stop laughing and actually get my sandwich made.)

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