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This Takes “Taking The Cake” To A Different Level

, , , , , , | Friendly | February 23, 2021

I have a friend who’s the kindest person in the world but not always the smartest.

I invite her, her husband, and a couple of other friends over to celebrate my birthday with me and my husband and daughters. My daughters are vegan. My invitation, which I send out via email, says:

Me: “Don’t bring anything! No presents except your presence, and we have the food all taken care of. There’ll be pizza, appetizers, and two kinds of cake: one vegan for our daughters, and one non-vegan for everyone else.”

[Friend] replies to the email.

Friend: “Sounds great! See you then.”

On the day of the party, [Friend] arrives with her husband and hands me an enormous, very heavy container.

Me: “What’s this?”

Friend: “It’s homemade cheesecake! Remember how you said that you wanted me to bring dessert?”

She then looks behind me and sees the two cakes, and her face falls.

Friend: “Oh… you have dessert?”

I try to respond as kindly as I can.

Me: “Well, yes, but that’s okay. More dessert is always good, and I love cheesecake.”

Friend: “And the best part is that your daughters will be able to eat it.”

Me: “Um, no, I’m afraid they won’t.”

Friend: “Sure, they will!”

Me: “Oh, is it a vegan cheesecake?”

Friend: “Yes! Nothing but pure, natural ingredients: butter, cream cheese, and sour cream.”

Me: “I’m really sorry, but they won’t be able to eat it. Those ingredients aren’t vegan.”

Friend: “They’re not?”

The icing on the cake, so to speak, was that she hadn’t given the cheesecake enough time to bake. It was raw and gooey in the middle. Turns out that she’d woken up that morning, somehow got it into her head that I’d asked her to bring dessert, and frantically threw a cheesecake together as quickly as possible.

She meant well.

This Relationship Doesn’t Sound Like A Party

, , , , , | Romantic | February 16, 2021

I’m a woman and one of my best friends is a man. We tend to make pretty crude jokes to each other. One day, I find a truly awful piece of “art” for sale on a site for handmade goods; the best words to describe it would be “unicorn sex party.” I can’t resist, and I email my best friend the link with some silly comment like, “Hey, now I know what to get you for your birthday!” The following day, he yells at me.

Friend: “Why did you email that link? My wife was really offended!”

Me: “I didn’t mean to offend anyone; I was just being silly. Why was she offended, though? I sent it to you.”

My friend speaks slowly, as though explaining something to a child.

Friend: “Because we share the same email address. You know, like all normal married couples do. I’m sure you and [Husband] have the same address.”

Me: “You’d lose that bet because no, we don’t.”

Friend: *Pauses* “Really? You mean that you get emails that he doesn’t see, and vice-versa?”

Me: “Yes?”

Friend: “Huh. I’d never trust [Wife] that much, and I know for a fact that she wouldn’t trust me.”

I learned something about my friend’s marriage that day. I couldn’t help but be a bit sad.

Cane You Please Back Off?

, , , , , , , , | Friendly | February 14, 2021

Several years ago, I was on the bus, playing on my original Nintendo DS and listening to music. 

Apparently, this older man started asking me what I was playing on and I couldn’t hear him because, you know, I was listening to music. 

Since I, a stranger, wasn’t paying attention to him, he decided to hit me in the shins with his cane!

He was amazed that I wasn’t receptive to answering his questions after this.

Being A Nana Is A Thankless Job

, , , , , , | Related | December 27, 2020

When my grandmother is still alive, she sends my daughters Christmas presents in the mail. Because she lives in Great Britain and I live in Canada, she’s always anxious about whether or not they arrived successfully. Every year, without fail, I can count on my mum saying this to me around December 27.

Mum: “Nana says she hasn’t gotten a thank-you letter from you yet for the girls’ gifts.”

Then, depending on the situation, my reply is one of the following:

Me: “Christmas was only two days ago; I haven’t had a chance to write a letter yet, but I will.”

Me: “I sent her a thank-you letter immediately, but it’ll take a while to get there.”

Me: “I haven’t actually received the parcel yet. I promise to thank her as soon as I get it.”

One year, Christmas comes and goes without a parcel from Nana. I don’t think anything of it; I think perhaps she didn’t bother to send one. Then, around mid-January, Mum calls me:

Mum: “Nana says you haven’t thanked her for the girls’ Christmas presents!”

Me: “But—”

Mum: “It’s really too bad of you. You know how upset she gets if you don’t thank her.”

Me: “But—”

Mum: “All she wants is to know they arrived safely. Is that too much to ask?”

Me: “But Mum, they didn’t arrive safely. They didn’t arrive at all.”

Mum: *Pause* “Are you sure? She said she mailed them in early November.”

Me: “I’m absolutely sure.”

Mum: “Hmm. Okay, I’ll tell her.”

Finally, the parcel arrived in April, and I realized why it had taken so long. Nana had completely botched my address — so much so that it was a miracle the package arrived at all. That was when we knew that old age was taking its toll. I promptly sent her a thank-you letter, of course.

Off The Clock, Customer Block, Part 3

, , , , , | Right | December 22, 2020

I am a cashier at a big box retail store. I have clocked out of an eight-hour shift, exhausted during the Christmas season, and changed into my normal-people street clothes — jeans and a hoodie — not the dress code dress pants and shirt.

A customer recognizes me and flags me down.

Customer: “You! Help me!”

Me: “I apologize, but I am off my shift and another associate will assist you.”

She grabs my arm and digs her nails into me! If I wasn’t wearing long sleeves I think she would have broken skin.

Customer: *Screaming* “I’ve been standing here waiting for you because I saw you walking into the staff room! Now that you’re here, you’re going to help me!”

I just look at my arm and back to her.

Me: “Ma’am, unhand my body or I will ask my manager to call the police.”

She loosens her grip but doesn’t let go, and instead, she tries tugging me towards the cash registers.

Customer: “The lines are too long! I’m not waiting! You’re head cashier, so do your job!”

Since I have to be bag-searched at the exit near the registers, I allow this deranged woman to pull me towards them. She pushes me behind a register where I then pick up the phone that pages for a manager.

Me: “Available manager to till four, please.”

The woman is busy unloading her basket on the counter. The manager comes over and I open my backpack; they peek inside.

Me: *Smiling* “Okay, see you tomorrow!”

I then walked out to catch my bus.

The next day, my manager told me that the customer screamed for fifteen minutes about how I needed to be fired for my lack of customer service skills. I got written up because that particular manager hated me, but it was worth it to know that the woman could have waited in line for eight minutes and been out of the store instead of spending thirty minutes trying to beat the system.

Off The Clock, Customer Block, Part 2
Off The Clock, Customer Block