That’s A Lox To Take In

, , , , | Right | May 15, 2021

I work at a sandwich shop that specializes in bagels. I don’t get out too much, so I’m not familiar with a lot of slang that’s apparently in common use. It also doesn’t help that I live close to the city that was voted to have the worst-sounding dialect.

Me: “Hi! How can I help you?”

Customer: “Hey, I’d just like lox on plain.”

Me: “I’m sorry, what was that?”

Customer: “Your lox sandwich.”

Me: “I’m afraid we don’t have a sandwich called lox?”

Customer: *Becoming agitated* “Yes, you do! You have it right there! I just want lox!”

He points to a picture on the lunch menu, though I can’t tell which one.

Me: “I don’t know what that is.”

Customer: “LOX! ON PLAIN!”

Me: “Uh… [Manager]?”

I turn to the manager on duty, who has just finished making another customer’s order.

Me: “Do we have lox?”

Manager: *Obviously exhausted* “Lox is the salmon sandwich.” *To the customer* “Do you want everything on that?”

Customer: “Yes! Finally!”

I still don’t know why he didn’t just say “salmon sandwich,” because apparently, lox is just salmon and cream cheese, while our salmon sandwich includes capers, onions, and tomatoes, as well. It would also have been nice if he weren’t so loud and rude.

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Soon You’ll Be Groaning Alone

, , , , | Related | May 14, 2021

My brother and I are driving around a run-down plaza parking lot.

Brother: “See that company? They’re always sending me junk mail to give me loans!”

Me: “You should call them and tell them to leave you… alone.”

Brother: “W—”

Me: “Oh, my gosh! I just made an unintentional pun!”

Brother: “That means it’s not funny!”

Me: “No, it’s more funny!”

We argued, but I think I’m right.

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Don’t You Speak Asian?, Part 4

, , , , , | Right | May 11, 2021

I’m a pharmacy tech who works in a retail setting with lots of non-English-speaking customers. Most of the techs I work with can speak more than two languages. I only speak English. I can understand Chinese but can’t speak or read it, but I know how it looks compared with Japanese or Korean. One day, a customer comes up to me with a list written in Chinese and starts communicating with me. I pull out my phone to translate to her that I don’t know how to help her since I don’t know what exactly she is looking for. She walks away.

Five minutes later, she comes back with one of the assistant managers.

Assistant Manager: “[My Name], do you understand Asian handwriting?”

She shows me the list again.

Me: “Asian handwriting?”

Assistant Manager: “Yes, you know handwriting that comes from Asian?”

Me: “No, I don’t understand Asian handwriting!”

They both walked away and I was left standing there wondering what had just happened.

Related:
Don’t You Speak Asian?, Part 3
Don’t You Speak Asian?, Part 2
Don’t You Speak Asian?

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This Kind Of Confusion Is Not Unique

, , , , , | Right | May 10, 2021

Me: “Morning, [Medical Clinic], this is Bromleigh. How can I help?”

Caller: “What was your name again?”

Me: “Bromleigh.”

Caller: “Ashley?”

Me: “Bromleigh.”

Caller: “Kylie?”

Me: “Bromleigh. But it’s okay. How can I help?”

I’m not too fussed about people misunderstanding my name, but this gentleman definitely takes it to the next level. The caller proceeds to make an appointment but somehow goes back to wanting my name.

Caller: “How do you spell your name?”

Me: “B-R-O-M—”

Caller: “T?”

Me: “B for ‘book.’”

Caller: “C?”

Me: “B for ‘black.’”

Caller: “Carly?”

Me: “No, sorry. But it’s okay. It’s spelled a little unique.”

Caller: “Ashley?”

Me: “Bromleigh.”

Caller: “Brom. Lee?”

Me: “Yes.”

Caller: “How do you spell?”

Me: “Any way you like. I’m not concerned.”

Caller: “How do you spell it? How do you spell?”

Me: “B for ‘Bob.’ R for ‘Rodger.’ O for ‘opal’—”

Caller: “Bronte?”

Me: “Yep.”

Caller: “B-R-O-N-T-E?”

Me: “Yes.”

Caller: “That’s not unique!”

I could only laugh when we finally hung up.

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Watch Your Fookie-ng Mouth

, , , , , , | Romantic | May 8, 2021

My partner and I are trying to clear our baking cupboard of ingredients. As such, we have found a basic cookie recipe to amend. We chuck in a bunch of random ingredients with the chocolate chips: chopped almonds, maple syrup, a whole glug of vanilla extract, a mix of two sugars, and the remnants of bread flour with plain.

The dough tastes oddly amazing but has the odd blended appearance of glossy cookie dough and dark fudge goodness.

Partner: “Well, the basic recipe did say the cookie dough would look a bit like fudge.”

Me: “Oh! It’s a ‘fookie’!”

Partner: “Oh, God, you can’t call it that.”

I think for a moment, whilst trying to form this franken-cookie goodness into a ball.

Me: “Then it’s… a ‘cudge.’”

Partner: “Somehow, that sounds so much worse.”

Me: “This is one of those funny conversations I can never tell your mother.”

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