The Tooth Will Finally Come Out

, , , , , | Related | April 25, 2019

This story is my dad’s from when he was about twelve years old. He and his three siblings were home alone on a winter day while their parents were running errands. The four kids decided to have a snowball fight, with a few twists: it was a three-on-one fight, with the three older siblings taking on the youngest brother. To “make it more fair,” the three older siblings would stick to throwing snowballs, while the youngest brother got to shoot at them with an old BB gun. The gun was not powerful at all — according to my dad, you could almost see the BB coming toward you because the gun was so weak — so they thought they would be okay with their heavy winter coats and snow pants, as long as their brother didn’t aim at their heads.

About ten minutes into the snowball vs BB gun fight, my dad popped out from behind a tree and threw a snowball at his younger brother. His brother shot at him, aiming at my dad’s chest to avoid breaking the rule against headshots. The only problem was that my dad ducked.

According to my dad, when the BB hit one of his teeth, it made a sound kind of like a loud bell echoing inside his head. My dad’s tooth broke in half, and the kids naturally called the fight off and went inside to take care of it. When their parents got home and saw my dad’s broken tooth, all the kids lied and said my dad had slipped on the icy driveway and broke his tooth when he fell. Somehow, the parents believed their kids, and rushed my dad to the dentist with no further questions asked.

My grandparents didn’t find out the truth about what happened until almost thirty years later, when my mom casually mentioned the story to my dad’s parents, not knowing that his parents had never heard the true story about my dad’s broken tooth.

She Has Bad Jeans

, , , , , , | Related | April 25, 2019

(I have a cousin who I’ve never really been close to, for good reason. I’m 12 years old while she is 14. I’m out shopping with her and my auntie — her mum.)

Cousin: “Oh, these jeans.” *points to $200 jeans* “I want them.”

Auntie: “What? No. Sorry, we can’t afford them right now. Your birthday is coming up; maybe you can get them then.”

Cousin: *yelling* “NO! I want them now!”

(People are staring.)

Auntie: “I’m sorry. We just can’t afford them.”

(My cousin then throws herself on the ground and starts kicking and screaming, throwing a tantrum like a two-year-old until my auntie gives in and buys them for her. From then on, I refuse to go shopping with them. Fast forward twenty years: I have moved interstate for work. Along with my boyfriend, I’m visiting my parents for their 40th wedding anniversary which is a family BBQ. My cousin, auntie, and uncle are there. After dinner, my boyfriend gets down on one knee and proposes to me. Before I can even respond:)

Cousin: “NO! NO! THIS IS NOT HAPPENING!”

(Everyone turns to look at her.)

Auntie: “What’s wrong?”

Cousin: *to me* “You can’t get engaged.”

Me: “What?”

Cousin: “I’m the older, prettier, smarter one. I’m better than you; I should get married first.”

(My whole family is in shock. I’m sick of her temper tantrums and thinking she’s better than me, so I decide to stand up for myself.)

Me: “Just because you’re a stuck-up, self-centered b**** doesn’t mean you get to dictate when I get engaged or married.” *to my boyfriend* “Of course, I’ll marry you!”

(My cousin threw a glass bowl full of punch through a glass door, and then threw herself on the ground crying and screaming that it was so unfair. My uncle had to pick her up and carry her out to their car, while we were left to deal with the cleanup at the ruined anniversary/engagement party. My cousin ended up at the ER to get stitches for cuts from the broken glass door. She wasn’t invited to my wedding, and I’m not surprised to say she’s still single and none of my family speaks to her.)

No Three Cheers For This Doctor

, , , , , | Healthy | April 25, 2019

(My first experience with a migraine is not a fun one. I lay in bed for two days and nothing works. I am ten at the time. My mom decides to take me to the ER to get stronger medicines since I am missing school and crying any time I am awake. After waiting for an hour, I am taken back and they begin prepping for medicine.)

Doctor: “All right. I’m going to give you a shot to help your head.”

Me: “W-what? I didn’t…”

(I start crying again due to a fear of needles while my mom comforts me. The doctor preps the shot.)

Doctor: “All right. Going to count to three and then we’ll stick you. One… Two…”

(He then jabs the needle in. I scream and jerk away because I wasn’t prepared, causing blood to get all over my arm.)

Doctor: “What the h*** was that for?! You’re ten! Grow up!”

Mom: “And you stabbed my child! You said, ‘On three’!”

Doctor: “Well, if he wasn’t such a brat—“

(A nurse comes in at that moment and sees me crying with blood all over my arm, my mom cornering the doctor, and the doctor with the needle still in his hand. The doctor shoves my mom away and all but slams the needle into the nurse’s hand.)

Doctor: “You take care of this spoiled brat!”

(The nurse patched me up and waited until three to stick me. It took a few tries, but we finally got the medicine. Once it took effect, I don’t remember anything, but, from what I heard, the doctor was fired because he was too rough with patients. One even almost died because of him.)

Her Death Threats Are Going Down The Toilet

, , , , | Right | April 22, 2019

(I’m working the third shift at a gas station. You have to have a key to unlock our bathroom. Someone either stole the key or misplaced it yesterday, as it is nowhere to be found, and I’m informed of this when I clock in. My coworker, whose husband owns the restaurant attached to our station, gives me the key to the back door to use if I want to lock up and use the restroom at any point. I don’t use public bathrooms unless it’s a necessity, though, so it won’t really be necessary. So far, everyone I’ve explained the missing key to has been okay with it and made no complaints or arguments, until this fine young woman walks in close to the end of my shift.)

Customer: “Can I get the key to your bathroom?”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, I haven’t been able to find it all night; someone either lost or misplaced it.”

Customer: “I just used it the other day. Why are you lying?”

(I’m kind of taken aback at this, as no one has been hostile about it.)

Me: “Yes. Apparently, it was lost some time today, and I don’t have a key until the manager comes in at six.”

Customer: “I’m calling corporate right now on your a**! I know you are lying, you racist [flurry of actual racist words and cursing]! They’ll know if your bathroom is actually locked and where your key is, and they’ll tell me!”

Me: *in overly-nice customer service tone* “Sure, you are welcome to do that, ma’am.”

Customer: “You are just plotting against me because I’m black and you don’t want me to use your white-privilege toilets! How do you use the bathrooms if you are here all night?!”

Me: “I don’t use public restrooms unless it’s an emergency, ma’am.”

Customer: “YOU ARE A LIAR! WHY ARE YOU LYING?! EVERYONE USES PUBLIC RESTROOMS, AND YOU CAN’T WORK HERE ALL NIGHT AND NOT USE THE BATHROOM!”

(She stood there for a good twenty minutes, tapping away on her phone, never making a call, and then she stormed around the store continuing to shout that she was calling corporate. She finally came up to the register to pay for her one item, still screaming at me that I was plotting against her, and on her way out she threw her trash on the floor, knocked over the trash can, and threatened to kill me. I informed my manager about it in the morning, who told me to just call the police if she tried to come in again. She also phoned the woman’s workplace and informed her boss of what had happened. She worked across the street — where they have a bathroom, by the way — and my boss is friends with her boss, it turns out. I knew her name and job because she had her uniform and name tag both on. You probably shouldn’t be making death threats while wearing those. I’m still not sure exactly why she thought corporate would know about one of the bathrooms, either, in the thousands of stores they own worldwide, or what they would do about it.)

The Easter Bunny Has Learned To Avoid Black Friday

, , , , , , | Right | April 21, 2019

(I work at a chocolate store and it is Easter time, the craziest time of the year, when customers are desperate to grab chocolate before somebody else does. I’ve seen a lot of arguments break out over chocolate eggs and whatnot, but never an incident like this before.)

Old Lady: *seems like a sweet little lady* “Hello, dear. I was wondering if you could show me where the chocolate bunnies are? I need one for my grandson.”

Me: “Of course, ma’am. I’d be more than happy to help.”

(I show her, and it looks like there’s only one more left on the shelf. She takes it and thanks me.)

Me: “Well, you’re in luck! That’s the last one. The registers are over here, ma’am, and thank you for shopping with us.”

(She is extremely polite throughout the whole exchange and goes on her way. Less than a minute later:)

Customer: “Do you have any chocolate bunnies? I really need one.”

Me: *cringes, knowing what’s going to happen* “Um, actually, that lady there just took the last one… so…”

(The customer immediately takes off, and I can see her yelling at the little old lady. The lady is calm, though, and when the other customer stops to catch her breath, the old lady pulls out A TASER and threatens her with it. She doesn’t get angry or anything. The customer pales and runs away, apologizing. This freaks me the h*** out. I don’t even know if tasers are legal here, or what. I walk over to her, praying.)

Me: “Uh… ma’am… I… your taser…” *sweating nervously*

Old Lady: *laughs* “Oh, sorry, dear. Did I scare you? It doesn’t work; there are no batteries in it. See?” *presses button, nothing happens* “I’ve been carrying it around since I went Black Friday shopping last year. Thank you again for your help!” *leaves*

(I don’t even want to know what happened last year on Black Friday.)

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