The Answer Is Black Or White House

, , | Working | September 19, 2014

(In the 1950s my grandmother took a boat from the UK to New York. Of course she had to answer questions to get through security.)

Security: “Do you have plans to blow up the White House, madam?”

Grandmother: “Oh, why? Is it an option?”

Security: “Try again, madam.”

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Makes You Just Want To Die

, , | Learning | September 17, 2014

(It is in high school debate club. One idiotic and ditzy girl has shown up, to the surprise of all of us.)

Teacher: “So, [Girl] why did you show up today?”

Girl: “Well, I had detention, and I told the teacher I had to meet with you so I could get out of it.”

Teacher: “Really? You shouldn’t do that.”

(A little while later, our meeting wraps up.)

Teacher: “So our topic next week will be euthanasia.”

Girl: “Wait? So we’re debating whether they should let kids into Asia?”

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Retort Against Those Who Extort

, , , , | Right | September 13, 2014

(My mother is in her seventies, and she is shopping at a thrift store when she spots a beautiful bamboo bookcase.)

Clerk: “Hi. Do you need some help?”

Mom: “I am interested in the shelf, but I have to go home first and do some measuring.”

Clerk: “No problem; I’ll make sure it’s still here when you get back.”

(After getting home, measuring, and seeing it will fit, she calls me to ask if I can go with her to pick it up if it is still there. We get to the store, where she walks over to the bookshelf and shows me. About a second later, a customer walks up to us.)

Customer: “I’m actually buying this shelf… but how much would you be willing to give me not to buy this?”

(My mom and I look at each other in disbelief, and before I can even think of what to say to this idiot, the clerk from earlier immediately steps in:)

Clerk: “Sorry, sir. This lady was here earlier and was going to buy it, but she had to run home and take measurements first.”

Customer: “Well, that’s not fair. I was just ready to buy this!”

Clerk: “Sorry. She gets first pick.”

Mom: *looking at the customer with a big grin* “And I decided I’ll take it.”

Clerk: *with an even bigger grin* “Let me go ahead and ring you up, and you also get a senior discount!”

(We spent the next few minutes cashing out while the customer just stood there and stared at us the whole time, and then stood out in the parking lot and kept staring at us with a butt-hurt look while I loaded it on the car, pausing here and there to give him a big “f*** you” grin. Thank you, awesome clerk, for putting that a**hole in his place for trying to extort money from the elderly!)


This story is part of our Thrift Store roundup!

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Please Keep Both Hands On The Wheel(chair)

, , , | Right | September 9, 2014

(I’ve been in a wheelchair for several years and am still pretty independent. Unfortunately there are times the chair can be a real pain. I broke down on the interstate on my daily commute and do not have a cell phone. As a result I am wheeling myself down the I-35 shoulder headed to the closest gas station when a DPS unit pulls up behind me. I was very tired since the shoulder of an interstate is not the easiest surface for me to go long distances. When I see the cop something just reminds me of a routine traffic stop, which I find hilarious.)

Me: “Don’t bother asking for my license or proof of insurance for my chair, as I have neither.”

(The cop looked confused for a second, and then burst out laughing.)

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Prejudice Can Be A Handicap

, , , , , | Working | September 4, 2014

(I have a seizure disorder. I have a service dog and wear a medical alert bracelet. When I use public restrooms, I tend to use the handicapped stalls. After doing some shopping, I walk into a busy bathroom. I start walking to the stall when a janitor emptying the trash steps in front of me.)

Janitor: “Where do you think you’re going? That stall is for handicapped people only.”

Me: “Oh, I have a seizure disorder. Here’s my medical bracelet, see?”

(The janitor looks less than impressed.)

Me: “And this is my service dog.”

Janitor: “You can walk just fine. You can use a regular stall.”

Me: “‘Handicapped’ doesn’t just mean an inability to walk.”

Janitor: “You are not allowed to use this stall. It’s the law.”

Me: “Seriously? There’s no such law. I have a legitimate reason to use this stall.”

Janitor: “Listen. You are not going to steal this stall from these ladies! So pipe down your attitude! You aren’t anything special! You and that ridiculous mohawk of yours can go in that smaller stall, missy!”

Me: “The last time I was in a regular stall, I had a seizure. I fell and hurt myself. The stall was so constricted that I hit my head on the walls and toilet. My doctor wants me to be safe.”

Janitor: “You expect me to believe that?”

Me: *turning my head, revealing a long, thick purple scar running under my spiked hair* “This stupid mohawk is a result of the 70 stitches I had to get after cracking my skull open on the side of a toilet! I had no way of avoiding everything in that constricted space when I fell so I hurt myself and a janitor had to pull me out, unconscious. Now, if you could let me access the stall with more floor space and more room for me to avoid head injuries and a lawsuit, I’d appreciate it!”

(The janitor turned pale while the line behind me erupted in a chorus of “Ooooohhhhh”s. Apparently, a woman at the end of the line alerted another nearby janitor to the incident, so when I left the bathroom, I was told to wait by the employee main office. The head janitor offered his apology and granted me a gift card to the mall and a treat for my service dog!)


This story is part of our Epilepsy roundup.

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