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Brace Yourself For Entitled Strangers

, , , , , , , | Friendly | April 26, 2024

I’m fifteen years old. Last week, I had an orthodontist appointment. I decided to watch some Netflix while I waited for my name to be called; I started watching “Schitt’s Creek”.

A few minutes later, I noticed this middle-aged lady with blonde frizzy hair just looking at me in this weird way. Sitting next to her was a boy who looked about eleven years old and a girl who looked around four years old. I kind of looked up at them, and the woman gave me this weird smile. (She should have been wearing a mask as they are required in the waiting room.)

Lady: “Kids, go along and see what that girl is doing with her phone.”

I was really weirded out but, of course, I didn’t do anything. The kids got close — less than a foot away from me, and neither was wearing a mask. I was uncomfortable.

Me: *To the lady* “Can you please tell your kids to back off? They are way too close.”

The kids just got closer and started staring at my phone screen. At that point, I was so annoyed that I just turned off my phone, thinking they’d go away.

Nope. The mom saw and YELLED at me:

Lady: “Let my kids watch a show!”

Me: “No. I don’t want them to watch shows on my phone.”

She did not like this. She walked over to me, grabbed my phone from my hand, and started demanding the password — which, of course, I did not tell her.

At that point, my name was called. I grabbed my phone back and left the waiting room to go get my braces adjusted.

About fifteen minutes later, the eleven-year-old came and sat down on the orthodontist chair next to me — he too had braces — and he actually apologized for his mom. Honestly, I was surprised.

A Very Moving Performance

, , , , | Right | April 26, 2024

I am at the Renaissance Faire and come across a living statue performer. I put a five in her tip basket, and ever so slowly, she comes to life to thank me. Behind me, I can hear a man react with a very stereotypical deep Southern accent.

Man: “Well, g**d*** that is impressive! I thought she was a real statue and d*** near s*** my pants when she started moving. Give her some money; she deserves it!”

Itching To Send Her To The Crappiest Nursing Home

, , , , | Related | April 26, 2024

This story about the bed bug lady in the hardware store reminded me suddenly of my mom. I’ve written about my mom in this story. She’s the one who had me sleep on a floor when I went to visit, even though I’m a disabled adult. 

My mom returns home from a trip, complete with suitcases and her husband. They went to visit his ex-girlfriend from decades past.

Mom: “You won’t believe this, but [Ex-Girlfriend] has bed bugs in her spare room!”

Me: *Taking a step back* “How do you know?”

Mom: “Well, not everyone has symptoms, but apparently, I’m allergic. I had big welts everywhere. But neither of them knew since they aren’t allergic, I guess.”

Me: “So… um… Did you bring bed bugs home? If not, how did you ensure…?”

Mom: “Oh, don’t worry. We checked into a hotel to get away from the bugs. We bought new suitcases, and I took what clothes I couldn’t throw out to the laundromat.”

I’m unsure the laundromat would be enough, but I set that aside for the moment.

Me: “I’m surprised the hotel let you stay there with possible bed bugs.”

Mom: “Oh, we didn’t tell them. We figured it would be okay to tell them when we left.”

Me: “And what did they say?”

Mom: “I haven’t told them yet.”

Me: “They need to know! Mom!”

Mom: “Well, I figured they would find out before putting anyone new in there because I shoved the old suitcases under the bed.”

Me: “Call them! Right now!

Mom: “But they will be mad at me.”

Me: “This is bigger than your feelings. Besides, I’m mad at you already. I’ll be more mad if you don’t call right now.”

Mom: “It’s probably too late—”

Me: “I’m so disappointed in you. You were disrespectful and negligent, and you decided to be a coward about that. How would you like it if you had a guest stay with bed bugs and not warn you, and then you and future guests all get bugs, and those friends blame you? Wouldn’t you want to know? Call. Them. Now.”

Mom: “You’re so mean.” *Dials the number*

I didn’t end up getting bed bugs as far as I know; this was a decade ago.

Related:
When Customers Bug You
They’re Going To End Up In The Crappiest Nursing Home

If Their Dad Joke Game Is That Strong, They Know Where Babies Come From

, , , | Right | April 26, 2024

I see a customer looking around.

Me: “Do just let me know if you have any questions.”

Customer: *With a big grin and silly voice* “Where do babies come from?”

Cue externally laughing, internally screaming.

A Shove In The Direction Of Karma

, , , , , , | Learning | April 26, 2024

This story reminds me of a history teacher I had. He was SO strict, everyone was terrified of him. And his wife — a French teacher at the same school — was worse. Terrible bullies, the pair of them. But, for some reason, he REALLY hated me.

We had him for the first period after lunch, in a “terrapin block” — a set of “temporary” classrooms, set up on brick plinths on some waste ground beside the main school buildings. To access the classroom, you had to go up a set of steep concrete stairs. Because we couldn’t be trusted — naturally, as we were school children — the school mandated that these classrooms must be locked at break times. The first teacher in the room after break had to collect the key from the office and unlock the classrooms.

One day, [History Teacher] was very late. We were all queued up on the steps but stood to either side to allow him free access to the door. He made us line up with girls to the left (because they should be LEFT out of his lessons) and the boys to the right (because they were always RIGHT in his lessons); his reasons, as stated to us, are given in parentheses.

I happened to be at the front. Some of the other girls in the class were pushing each other forward, and therefore into me. I was using the door handle to anchor myself to push back against them, so as not to get in trouble with [History Teacher] by being on the right. He eventually came along.

History Teacher: *Very snappily* “I can’t possibly access the lock if you have your hand on the door handle.”

The lock was readily accessible. I tried to explain, but he cut me off.

History Teacher: *Angrily* “Remove your hand from the door!”

So, I did.

And just at that moment, one of the girls gave an almighty shove to the girl in front of her, who barrelled into me, causing me to barge into the teacher, knocking him off his feet, as he was completely unprepared.

He tried to give me a detention for that one, but the teacher in the adjoining terrapin confirmed my story — that I had tried to warn him and then done exactly as he told me — so that went nowhere. I don’t think it made him like me any more than before, though.

Related:
When You Wish They’d Cool Off A Bit