Quite Fluffy About What’s In Her Coffee

, , , , , | Related | June 26, 2018

(My sister is drinking a coffee she’s left sitting for a few hours. She looks in the mug.)

Sister: “Wow, there’s a lot of fluff in here.”

(She sits there, mulling over her options.)

Sister: “Maybe if I stir it in, it’ll sink the bottom.”

(I watched in horror as she happily stirred and drank her dust-and-cat-hair coffee. I really hope one of us is adopted.)

A Diseased Understanding Of Infection

, , , , | Right | June 25, 2018

Customer: “I’ll have a large americano for here.”

Me: “Sure thing.” *reaches for a china cup*

Customer: “Oh, no, no, no! I’ll have it in a paper cup.”

Me: “Oh, okay.” *makes his drink in a paper cup*

Customer: “I don’t want to drink out of something other people have been drinking out of. Swine flu, you know.”

Me: “Fair enough, but you know, health regulations require that all reusable dishes be run through a sanitizer that uses boiling water and a chemical disinfectant. The dishes come out basically sterile.”

Customer: “Nah, I’d still rather not chance it. Have a great day!”

(This gentleman paid cash, and when he left, put his hand on the doorknob that is cleaned maybe once a week with a basic glass cleaner, and went on his merry way.)

A Sixth Sense That It’s The Sixth Month

, , , , , , | Healthy | June 21, 2018

(I have a bad cold and need a medical certificate for work. I go to the walk-in clinic in my area, and the receptionist asks for my public health care card. I pass it to her.)

Receptionist: “Do you have a current one?”

Me: “Isn’t that current?”

Receptionist: “It’s expired; I can’t accept it.”

Me: “What? I haven’t gotten a new one yet.”

Receptionist: *she flips it around to show me, and taps on the expiry date*

Me: “Um, that’s not expired.”

Receptionist: *she taps it again*

Me: “That says 07-18.”

Receptionist: “Yep.”

Me: “It’s June.”

Receptionist: “Yep.”

Me: “June is the sixth month.”

Receptionist: “Wait.” *she checks something on her computer* “SO IT IS! Okay, the wait is currently half an hour; take a seat and we will call you when you’re up!”

Me: “Thanks.”

Receptionist: “And keep an eye out in the mail for your new card!”

Me: “I will!”

Donut Give Me More Donuts

, , , , , , , | Learning | June 21, 2018

(I started teaching at this school halfway into the year. I’m a relatively new teacher, so I’m still a bit timid in the staff room. I am also often self-conscious about my eating habits. I go out one day in June, a few weeks before the end of the school year, to grab a coffee at lunch. I come back with a donut. It’s a pretty extravagant-looking thing and catches the other teachers’ attention.)

Teachers: *commenting on the delicious donut*

Me: “I know, I know. It’s really unnecessary; I shouldn’t have bought it. But I’m having salad for dinner tonight, so I guess I can kind of justify it.” *apologetic smile*

(Immediately, three teachers whip their heads up to look at me.)

Teacher #1: “IT’S JUNE.”

Teacher #2: “That’s all the justification you need.”

Teacher #3: “In fact, that’s not enough. Have this, too.” *breaks off half of her cookie and slides it over to me*

Making Of A Murderer

, , , , , , | Related | June 14, 2018

(My brother, who is months away from adulthood, is trying to confront my mum on the issue of her regularly employing emotional blackmail to get him to do what she wants. It has made him miserable enough that it’s impacted his morale and made him less willing to study, not more. He decides to bring it up with her. My dad and I are in the same room, although we’ve mostly been quiet so that he can do the talking on his own behalf. I have seen enough of these “interventions” with my mum to know that unless my brother is willing to firmly enforce the boundaries he’s trying to set, any change in behaviour from my mum will be lucky to last a week. As such, although I’ve always tried to encourage my brother to stand his ground, I have grown rather weary and cynical towards these family meetings, and I’ve particularly run out of patience for my mum’s excuses or “defenses.” At this point, they have been discussing and arguing, practically in circles, for at least half an hour now.)

Brother: “The thing that I really hate, Mum, is when you threaten to call up my friends and teachers when you think I’m playing too much or not studying hard enough, or whatever. It’s really hurtful.”

Dad: *in disbelief* “No… Really? Seriously, [Mum], you can’t be doing this; he’s almost 18!”

Me: “Mhm.”

Brother: “Yes! And she’s actually gone through with it, too, when I tried calling her bluff; she actually picks up the phone and starts calling them.”

Mum: *indignant* “You’re making things out to be so much worse than they really are! How many times have I done that, [Brother]? Was it every time? Was it every day?”

Brother: *groans in frustration* “No, but—”

(With that, my patience is out. I have run out of f***s to give.)

Me: *rolls eyes* “Oh, gee, Your Honour, I know I’m facing murder charges, but let’s look at the facts here: it’s not like I killed someone every day, so can you really call me a murderer? I mean, fair’s fair.”

(My brother has his head in his hands. My dad tries to shush me and stifle a chuckle at the same time and is rather unsuccessful in both endeavours. My mum makes a point of ignoring me. She regains composure and tries again, a little quieter this time.)

Mum: *deliberately not looking at me and addressing only my brother* “Tell me, [Brother], did I do that today?”

Me: *throwing my hands up dramatically* “Oh, Your Honour! The unfairness of it all! Okay, so maybe I did kill some people in the past month, but Christ, give me some credit! I didn’t kill anyone today, did I?!”

(My dad lost it and collapsed into a fit of giggles while my brother just about threw his hands in the air. I don’t think much progress was ultimately achieved that day. I may have been a bit unhelpful in that regard. Oops.)


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