Author: beth the other admin

  • you first

    I’m a physician assistant in dermatology. One day I walked into an exam room to see a patient who was there for an upper body exam. After introducing myself, I walked to the computer to look at his chart and I stated, “Go ahead and remove your shirt.” To which he replied, “You first.” I looked at him for a while since it didn’t register to me what he was saying. He then repeated the statement as it clicked in my brain what he was talking about. It must’ve been the confused/disgusted look on my face that made him state, “Sorry, bad joke.” Amanda – Somewhere

  • the stanly chronicles part 2: the job i didn't ask for

    Remember Stanly? My 50 year old boss who wanted to share a full-sized bed with me? He is a fountain of awkward situations. One day, we were driving to work in his blue 15 passenger van, and he suddenly pulled into the parking lot of a church. It was a friday afternoon, I think. Stanly knew that my wife and I were looking for a church to attend, and he thought he could help me out. We were greeted by the receptionist who asked if she could help us with anything. Stanly asked if one of the pastors was in. One of them was, so the lady went and brought him to us. It was about that time that I realized that Stanly clearly didn’t know anyone at this church, and nobody knew Stanly. The receptionist clearly didn’t recognize him, and there was no look of recognition on the pastor’s face when he walked in the room either. I began to wonder what we were doing there, until Stanly made it painfully clear to me. He says to the pastor, “Mike here is looking for a church. He is a real nice guy, he’s been to Bible school and he’s looking for opportunities to serve… maybe you have a position open for him to come and join you guys here.” The pastor looked at me, and I looked at him and tried to communicate with my eyes that I had no idea what Stanly was talking about. Maybe he got the message because he kindly suggested that I attend a few services and get to know some people before trying to join their staff. Needless to say, I haven’t been back. Mike – Calgary, AB

  • softballs

    I work at a church and one of our fantastic members works for the railroad. When he stops and waits for a load by a baseball field (or whatever they do) he jumps off his train and hunts down softballs for our church team. I find softball gifts from him on my desk about every month during the summer. He came into the office one day (after dropping off a “gift” to me the week earlier) and asked if I had received it. I, having the memory of a gnat, gave him a confused look and internally searched my brain to remember what he was talking about. Realization hit me and I blurted out “Oh! Your balls! Yep, I got ’em.” My hand hit my mouth as soon as the words were out. He was gracious and only laughed at me. This, of course, had to be in front of half the staff. The other half enjoyed the story later. Yes, I still work there…not sure how I haven’t gotten fired yet. Julie – OH

  • the pet shelter lady

    I’ve always considered myself to be an animal person. More specifically, a cat person. So I was surprised when this certain pet shelter lady set me straight. It had been a couple of weeks since the last time anyone had spotted my long-haired calico. I knew the probability of her being snatched by a wild animal was pretty good. But she could also have been stolen. Either way, I was minus a cat. So off I went to the local pet shelter to do my good deed for the day. When my husband and I pulled up, the building sparkled with good maintenance and self-importance. Anxious to get a kitty, we got in line and waited for a good fifteen minutes while the person in front of us gushed about “adopting” their newest “family member.” As we waited, a man walked in with an enormous, wretched looking stray dog he had rescued. The pet shelter lady gave the pooch a syrupy look and then proceeded to scowl at the man. She turned back to the dog with a sympathetic expression as if to say, “I understand. I hate humans, too.” Our turn. After reviewing too much paperwork, we were drilled on the following subjects: living situation, work schedule, length of marriage, plans for the future, when will we have kids, and on and and on and freaking on. At this point I would have given anything to go home and pretend we hadn’t come here. I was already twelve years old and getting younger by the second. With a sigh she put down our stack of papers and began taking notes in a separate file. We had come to the part where she noticed we USED to have a cat. “Was your cat an indoor kitty?” We let her outside. “I thought so. Your cat was obviously eaten by some animal by your carelessness. You should have put a tracking microchip in her skin.” Another sigh. She copied our names onto a list. “I’m afraid you two are just not responsible enough to adopt one of our cats. They are family. I suggest you come up with a two year plan for your futures before you try to adopt again.” And then she gave us a two year plan. “Go back to school, get a large enough house, and wait till you have a child so we can match their temperaments to suit each other.” Then she added, “Or you can just go to a farm and get a kitten that way.” So we did. Come to find out, they didn’t even have kittens at the pet shelter that day anyway. P.S. I totally cried all the way home. Beth the Other Admin

  • the proposition

    In 2003 I went to Houston with some friends. We were in an area of the city with a lot of homeless people. We went to use a public restroom and had to wait in line. My friends all went before me, and eventually I was left alone in the yellow, dirty bathroom with complete strangers. And by strangers, I mean they were strange. I fell into conversation with this one particularly interesting old woman. It took me a while to figure out she must have been homeless — I think the multiple empty plastic grocery bags were the give away. Anyway, she asked me how long I had been in Houston. So I truthfully told her about two hours. I must have had that young, vulnerable run away look about me, because her response was: “Oh! Well, I know a guy who takes in girls like you. And I know he’s taken in white girls before — well, she was hispanic. But he’ll give you a place to stay and he’ll take care of you…” My innocent 17-year old mind finally comprehended her proposition. I sweetly assured her that I was okay and wouldn’t need her help making my way in the world. That was my first and only “job” offer (in Houston, anyway). Beth the Other Admin