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should i take this personally
My husband was a groomsman in our friends’ wedding. He was paired up with the bride’s cousin to walk down the aisle. At the wedding rehearsal, I was sitting next to my husband and the bride’s grandfather came over to talk with him. Grandpa said, “So, I see you’re walking up with my granddaughter, Stacy.” […]
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you're a racist b——
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
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naughty santa, my foot!
One Christmas a friend of mine invited me to a Christmas party with a bunch of his friends, none of which I knew. He told me (and I quote), “We’re having a naughty Santa gift exchange, so bring something to give.” I’d never heard someone use that term before, but being a person of sub-par to average intelligence, I assumed that meant a white elephant gift exchange and didn’t ask any questions. No sweat. Just a brief perusal of my parents’ basement will bring me what I need. I found a statue of a cat laying down that was about a foot long. The cat was multi-colored with velvet like stuff on it to make it soft. In other words, it was really tacky, ugly and undesirable. I think my Grandma bought it at a thrift store. Anyways, I wrapped that as my gift. Upon arrival to the party, I set it lovingly beneath the bows of the Christmas tree and chuckled to myself at its inherently white elephant nature. The time came for us to open the gifts. Sweet. The first gift opened was a…..(drumroll) nice picture frame. Second gift…..(drumroll) nice set of Yankee candles. Third gift…..(drumroll)…………a…..a gross thrift store/basement stored/bizarre looking/tacky statue of a cat? That jerk totally lied to me! That was no “naughty Santa” or whatever the heck you want to call it gift exchange! I sat there completely degraded and humiliated in front of a bunch of strangers. The guy who opened the gift was very gracious though. I tried to explain myself, but he just kept on going on about how it was ok and he could put it on his porch or something woefully ridiculous like that. Whatever, man. Awkward! Amanda – SC
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who was that jerk?
I stopped at a gas station with two friends to get some coffee. While we were getting creamer and lids this dirty guy walked in. Both of my friends knew the guy but didn’t bother to introduce me. My jaw dropped as I watched this guy get his coffee. He was loud and laughing about non-interesting stuff. As he poured his coffee it sloshed all over the counter and some on the floor. He didn’t clean it up. He poured cream, it sloshed on the counter. He added sugar, it spilled on the counter and the floor. Then as he took the cup away it spilled a little more. He left in the same loud huff. I was not used to this. When we got into the car the first words out of my mouth were, “Who was that jerk?” My friend, who was driving, turned and said, “That is my brother.” I didn’t even try to recover. Micah the Admin
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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