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bush don't care
Feb 21st, 2010 by micah the admin

poop happens
Feb 21st, 2010 by micah the admin

I own a children’s clothing store. One day a mom kept sniffing around her toddler, and said the obvious thing, “I think you have a poopy diaper.” When she went to check this situation further, she discovered no poop was in the diaper. “Must have just been gas.” My next customer in that area of the store said, “There seems to be some poop or something under this rack.” Yep, there it was! Helpful tip: make sure your kid’s diapers are snug and secure before going out in public, because the alternative makes ME look bad.

Laurel – NH

you're a racist b——
Feb 21st, 2010 by micah the admin

When I worked at Wal-Mart I was the under-paid angry customer problem solver. We had a policy saying that one could only use a check if that person’s name was on the check. This was obvious to me. Don’t let people use stolen checks. Our customers should have appreciated it. One of my cashiers called me over because she had an angry lady in front of her. I would usually give in to whatever crazy thing a customer wanted to insure they would come back, but we couldn’t budge on issues of potential fraud. I nicely explained to the lady the reason we couldn’t take the check. She said, “It’s my husband’s checkbook!” I said, “I’m sorry, ma’am. We do this to protect you and the rest of our customers.” She left in a huff to go get another method of payment. I forgot about it
I went to go goof off at the customer service area. I was laughing a lot and chatting with a friend of mine, who happened to be black. The lady came in all angry and approached me. She pointed in my face and yelled, “You’re a racist b——-, and you can f— off!” Then I realized that she must have been a really light skinned black person or perhaps was part Hispanic or Native American. I don’t know. I would have called her white and maybe, if asked, wonder about her grandparents’ ethnicity. I think my skin was darker. Either way, I was embarrassed.

micah the admin

is this your sister?
Feb 21st, 2010 by micah the admin

I was about 12 years old, a little chubby with chin length hair and the self-esteem of a twelve year old. I went with my mom to my younger sister’s school track and field day. I was sitting on a blanket when my sister’s friend and her mother walked over. The girl’s mother smiled at me and asked loudly to my sister, “Oh Becca, is this your sister?” I don’t think I said anything, and I certainly didn’t smile. I got my hair cut off within a day or two.

micah the admin

so not a serial dater
Feb 21st, 2010 by micah the admin

About 10 years ago, I ran into a friend from my youth camp days. I had dinner with her and her pastor’s wife. I listened as Tricia talked about finding her true love. Her friend talked about her soulmate and their 6 children. They wondered aloud why a great gal like me was “still single.” A week or so later Tricia called me. She told me about this great guy, her pastor’s brother. I agreed to let Tricia give him my phone number. He lived about an hour away so I didn’t fear him just dropping by. The first phone call was awkward to say the least. He told me about his work in the ministry. Great! The second phone call he talked about his ministry. Good! He hasn’t gone back to his old ways. The next phone call he talked about coming to my town in a week. Okay. He has a reliable vehicle. The next phone call, 2 days before he would eventually come to my neck of the woods, he asked me what I was doing the day he came. Without knowing what I was saying, I ended up inviting him to have dinner with my parents. So the first time I met this shy guy, he was meeting my parents also. What had I done! Thankfully, my mother can have a conversation with a snail. Naturally Tricia called me the next night. I just didn’t see any chemistry. Being the give-people-the-benefit-of-the-doubt type of person I am, I think I still listened the next time he called. Tricia invited me to come visit her and her husband the following weekend. Great! I could use a get-away. Their church was having a bonfire, hayride Fall festival we would go to that Friday night. Mr. Personality would be there. I thought I would give him another chance. I could see him on his own turf with his friends and family. The hayride was fun- a truck full of adults, kids and hay. I forgot to pack a Claritin. The bonfire was good- nothing like smores and soot in your eye. The house of the hostess was decorated well. Again I was glad to say goodnight to this guy. Back at Tricia’s, we had some girl-talk time. She wanted to know what I thought about Mr. Not So Right for me. I told her that he has yet to ask me about myself…what I like to do for fun…about my goals for my future…about me. Before I went to bed, he called me. He asked me if I wanted to meet for breakfast in the morning before I left to go home. I figured I would let him down gently over hotcakes and sausage. He hadn’t spent “technically” any money on me yet. I said yes. While I ate my biscuits and gravy with a large chocolate milk, he asked me what I like to do for fun. He asked me about my goals for the future. This was Crestview, not the twilight zone. Before the check arrived and I order a to-go refill on my darkcow juice, I told him I really didn’t feel we had much in common. He might have mentioned liking to bowl as I walked to the ladies’ room while he waited to pay the bill. If I had only said sure, I might have gotten a piece of candy thrown in or an iced soda of Orange Cream. So many choices at Crackerbarrel. He waited to call until Sunday night. Bewildered, I politely responded with yes/no answers to his few questions. Again I said, we really don’t have hardly anything at all in common. Tricia called the next day. I relayed to her what I thought I had relayed to him. The next time he called, I didn’t answer. The final time he called, I didn’t answer. Tricia and I eventually lost contact. We reconnected last year. She doesn’t live in Crestview anymore. She hasn’t offered to fix-her-up anymore. I haven’t invited myself to visit. I am still a novice dater/courter.

Karen – FL

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