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Sure, Blame The Baby

, , , , , , | Related | April 19, 2022

I’m kind of a pet peeve for Grandpa. He doesn’t like me. Like, at all.

You’d think it’s because I was born out of wedlock, but no. It’s because he insists that if it weren’t for my birth, Dad could have done way better in his A-levels and not have gone to what he calls a “garbage university”.

Back when they were teenagers in boarding school, Dad and Mom accidentally got pregnant with me. Mom didn’t find out she was pregnant until literally three weeks before my birthday. I’ve seen the photos, and yes, Mom really didn’t look like she was pregnant. Sure, she put on a bit of weight, but I was born in spring. It just looked like the regular Christmas and New Year weight gain.

As for the other symptoms — morning sickness, mood swings, and the like — both my parents were studying for their A-levels. They were way too stressed out to realise.

And thus, Mom gave birth to me, when she and Dad were both international students half a world away from home and their families — a pair of clueless nineteen-year-olds saddled with a newborn daughter to raise less than 100 days before the A-levels.

They both achieved straight As and got their courses of choice: medicine for Dad, computer science for Mom.

Both of them also raised me rather successfully (though not without their fair share of bumbling mishaps) while being full-time students in a foreign country three continents away from home.

Also, that “garbage university” they both went to? Birmingham University.

And Grandpa still claims that Dad could have done better if he “hadn’t wasted time looking after a kid.”

I swear, there just isn’t pleasing some people.

Rolling With The Punches

, , , , , , , , | Friendly | March 21, 2022

I’ve been staying with a friend in Cardiff and have just arrived at the station to catch my train home. An international rugby match has recently finished, and the traffic caused by this meant it took longer than anticipated to get to the station, and I’m in real danger of missing my train. As such, I am sprinting full pelt through the concourse, carrying my overnight bag over my shoulder.

As I run, I approach a group of rugby fans walking in the opposite direction. One of them, evidently thinking they’re about to pull the prank of the century, jumps out in front of me, yelling, “Boo!”

There’s absolutely no way I can stop in time, and I barrel straight into the hapless moron, sending him flying. I lose my balance, too, but somehow maintain my forward momentum, turn my stumble into a roll, get back to my feet, and continue on my way.

Behind me, I hear my wannabe roadblock protesting that I’ve hurt him, but one of his friends, laughing, tells him off for being a d**k and says that it was his own d*** fault.

Direct Action Is Sometimes Necessary

, , , , | Right | CREDIT: thesagebrushkid1 | November 26, 2021

I am working as an investigator for a National Health Service project. We are dealing with client claims but we aren’t client-facing. It is very rare that the phone rings.

The phone goes off and everyone freezes like naughty meerkats. I’m nominated to answer it.

Me: “Hello, NHS Wales, [Project]. How can I help?”

Caller: “Hello? I want to pay my bill!”

The old fella is after [Gas Company]. He politely excuses himself and all is well.

Two minutes later, the phone goes off again.

Me: “Hello, NHS Wales—”

Caller: “[Gas Company]?!”

Me: “Ah, no, sir, here’s the number for [Gas Company].”

I Google the number and pass it on, and it’s fine.

Two minutes later…

Me: “Hello, NHS Wales—”

Caller: “But I’m looking for [Gas Company]! My bill!”

Me: “Okay. Hang on two ticks, please, sir.”

I put him on hold, dialed up [Gas Company] customer service, waited until it was connected, and forwarded him through.

Oil Tell You If You Just Shut Up!

, , , | Right | November 17, 2021

I work for a natural beauty product store. I answer the phone.

Customer: “Hello, I’d like to know what oil is good for the hair?”

Me: “Castor oil is very good for—”

Customer: *Cutting me off* “A friend told me macadamia oil is good!”

Me: “Well, yes, macadamia oil is also good—”

Customer: *Cutting me off, getting impatient* “Yes, I know, but I want to know what other oils you have!”

Me: “…”

Her Waters Didn’t Break But Her Scam Did

, , , , | Right | October 7, 2021

A woman tries to pay for her bill — £40 worth of cocktails — with a pharmacy chain’s loyalty card.

Me: “I’m sorry, madam, this isn’t possible.”

Customer: “I’m going to get the money out.”

I follow her and see her trying to get into a taxi. I challenge her.

Me: “Madam! I need the £40!”

She runs at me, belly first, and screams:

Customer: “I’M PREGNANT!”

She then proceeded to wet herself, claiming her water had broken.