A Couple Of Egyptian First-Born That Would Disagree…

, , , , | Related | August 21, 2017

(I am recounting a true story I read on the Internet to my mother where a Jewish bride-to-be receives a cross necklace from a relative to wear at the wedding. She doesn’t seem to react as strongly as I expected, so I decide to clarify just what is wrong. Note that while my mom is Catholic, I’m atheist.)

Me: “Jewish people don’t believe in Jesus.”

Mom: “Why not? They don’t believe in having a god?”

Me: “They just go by the Old Testament.”

(I’m not exactly sure what happened at this point, but about two sentences later:)

Me: “Well, the Old Testament is pretty much a collection of stories of God getting angry and killing people.”

Mom: “God never killed anyone!”

Me: “Forty days and forty nights?”

(She gave me a look and left the room.)

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Can’t Deal With This New Number

, , , , | Friendly | August 19, 2017

(I get a call on my cellphone from a number I don’t know. I recently contacted someone on Craigslist about a very nice dining table they were just giving away, so I answer.)

Me: “Hello?”

Caller: “[Name similar to mine]?”

Me: “[My Name], yeah.”

Caller: “You wanna hang out?”

Me: “Sorry… who is this?”

Caller: “Is this [Name similar to mine]?”

Me: “No, my name is [My Name]. I’ve only had this number for a couple weeks though, so he was probably the guy who had it before me.”

Caller: “Oh, okay. Sorry about that. Bye.” *click*

(I thought it was kind of funny that I’d inherited my number from someone whose name was only one letter different from mine… though I found it considerably less funny that I kept getting calls for him at least once a week for the next SIX MONTHS. Some of which would not believe me that I wasn’t him, and others that would immediately text me after hanging up asking him to call them. I eventually started to wonder if he’d been a dealer.)

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That Is ‘Pretty’ Awesome

, , , , , , | Hopeless | August 15, 2017

(I am a photographer running a studio in the inner city. We are well known for our children’s portraits, and we range from high-end portraits for modelling jobs to fun sibling photos and birth announcements. We do a bit of everything; as such, we are extremely busy, and it states on our website that we do not accept walk-ins. We are usually booked up six months in advance. One day, ten minutes before closing, a mum walks in with a young girl around six or seven behind her. I internally groan.)

Mother: “Hello. I know you’re closing soon, but I have a special favour to ask.”

(At this point the little girl peeks around her mother’s legs and I’m lost for words. Under her thick winter coat and hat, she is skeletally thin with huge dark circles under her eyes. From what I can tell, she has no hair, and a tube taped to her cheek that feeds into her nose. It is immediately clear this kid is very, very sick.)

Mother: *near tears* “My daughter saw one of your photos taped to the wall at the hospital. She REALLY loves unicorns and the photo had a girl photo-shopped onto a horse. I know you’re booked up, and it’s months before the next appointment, but…”

(At this point she actually starts crying. I realise that our next available appointment is probably way too far away for this particular kid. The little girl squeezes her mother’s hand. I am a very big dude, covered in tattoos and a beard, but I’m not ashamed to say I needed a minute before I spoke.)

Me: “Aww, that’s just for regular customers! I’ve been waiting all day to take a photo of someone as beautiful as you! What’s your name, sweetheart?”

(I lock the front door and spend the next three hours taking photos of this kid in every princess costume I have in my closet. She is the sweetest, most well-behaved kid I have ever worked with. Once we’re done she curls up on the couch in my office and falls asleep while I load up the photos for her mum to see and choose the ones she likes best, and ask her what kind of retouching she’d like done. She’s adamant that I leave her daughter as is — apparently the little girl has been worried for the past month that she is no longer “pretty.”)

Me: “All right, so we’ve settled on these. I can have them edited and all finished in two days. If you give me your email I can send you the link to the website and the password to download them when they’re ready.”

(The mother thanks me over and over and comes up front, carrying her sleeping daughter, and holds out her credit card.)

Me: “Nope. No way.”

Mother: “Please, I insist. You stayed open so late and your shoots are listed for [amount] online. Please at least charge me that.

Me: “Absolutely not. I am not taking money for this. No way in h***.”

(A few days later I send the link through and hear nothing. I see she’s downloaded the photos and I think nothing of it, hoping my sweet little friend loved her photos. Almost six months later I’m once again closing up when a very familiar face pops up at my window, grinning and waving frantically.)

Me: *throwing open the door* “Hey, you!”

Little Girl: “Hi! I’m better! Look, I’m better!”

(Sure enough, she’d put on some weight, was flushed and pink, and had a fine fuzz of hair over her head. Her mother was a few steps behind her, grinning. She once again tried to force an envelope full of money into my hand, and again I refused. She got frustrated and eventually in her exasperation said, “at least let us take you to dinner!” which I happily accepted. Seven years later that photo of a sick little girl astride a giant pink unicorn is in a frame in my lounge room. My now-step-daughter groans every time I point it out to the friends she brings home!)

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Never Gonna Get It Out Of Your Head

, , , | Friendly | July 22, 2017

(Usually my friends and I go to our classes all together. I arrive at a class to find a friend, the only one I am with for that subject, already there.)

Me: “You gave up. You let me down. Why’d you run around and desert me?”

Friend: “I was waiting by the library and you weren’t there…”

Me: “You’re gonna make me cry; why’d you say goodbye? At least you didn’t tell a lie, because that would have really hurt me.”


Friend: “I will kill your entire family. And your dog.”

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Imprisoned In The Parent Trap

, , , , | Related | June 18, 2017

(I’ve chosen to take Legal Studies as one of my Year 12 courses. As part of the course, we’re allowed to go to a local prison to meet some of the inmates and hear about their experiences with the criminal justice system. Since the bus to the prison leaves fairly early from school, my dad agrees to drive me to school.)

Dad: “Hey, [Radio Station] is having one of their contests on in five minutes!”

(He calls, and manages to get through to the station.)

Operator: “What are you doing up so early today?”

Dad: “I’m taking my daughter to prison!”

(Thanks, Dad. On the plus side, that particular statement DID get him on the radio.)

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