There’s a hospital near the mall where I work. We don’t often get people from the hospital, but there’s this dad who often brings his daughter in. She can’t be more than eight years old. She is absolutely tiny. She is completely hairless from chemo or whatever she’s going through. It’s obvious she’s embarrassed by it, seeing all my coworkers with their long hair. Her dad ends up shaving his own head, but it doesn’t seem to help.
One day they come in, and I have an idea.
My friend just cut my hair — and messed it up. He asked me if I wanted to just shave my head, and I said yes, so I’m more or less a chrome dome. As someone in their thirties, I’m pretty okay with this. It’s a fresh change, and I can wear hats as a fashion statement, as well as to keep my ears warm.
This little girl comes in, and I whip my hat off my head.
Me: “Hey! Twinsies!”
She’s seen me a couple of times, but she’s still kind of shy. She and her dad smile and talk about it for a little while, and then, suddenly, this gigantic bear of a man walks up and points at his own shaven head.
Man: “Oooooooh, look at us! Triplets!”
It didn’t matter what color we were, and it didn’t matter that the man and I were older than this little girl. We were triplets that day. That girl could not smile hard enough. She and the man were laughing uproariously, while her dad did his best not to cry.
I left that job about a year ago. I’m hoping she’s doing all right.
(I am a photographer running a studio in the inner city. We are well known for our children’s portraits, and we range from high-end portraits for modelling jobs to fun sibling photos and birth announcements. We do a bit of everything; as such, we are extremely busy, and it states on our website that we do not accept walk-ins. We are usually booked up six months in advance. One day, ten minutes before closing, a mum walks in with a young girl around six or seven behind her. I internally groan.)
Mother: “Hello. I know you’re closing soon, but I have a special favour to ask.”
(At this point the little girl peeks around her mother’s legs and I’m lost for words. Under her thick winter coat and hat, she is skeletally thin with huge dark circles under her eyes. From what I can tell, she has no hair, and a tube taped to her cheek that feeds into her nose. It is immediately clear this kid is very, very sick.)
Mother: near tears “My daughter saw one of your photos taped to the wall at the hospital. She REALLY loves unicorns and the photo had a girl photo-shopped onto a horse. I know you’re booked up, and it’s months before the next appointment, but…”
(At this point she actually starts crying. I realise that our next available appointment is probably way too far away for this particular kid. The little girl squeezes her mother’s hand. I am a very big dude, covered in tattoos and a beard, but I’m not ashamed to say I needed a minute before I spoke.)
Me: “Aww, that’s just for regular customers! I’ve been waiting all day to take a photo of someone as beautiful as you! What’s your name, sweetheart?”
Customer: “Can you give me directions to [Another store I’ve never been to or shopped at]?”
Me: “Yeah, I know that’s in our shopping plaza, although I don’t know exactly where. I’d be happy to pull up a map on my phone for you!”
Customer: “I’d prefer if you just remember.”
Me: “I’d prefer it if you did too.”
Customer: “You can’t talk to me that way!”
Me: “Sir, I have no obligation to help you with anything outside of this store. I was going to look up the directions to be nice. Now the only directions I am giving you are towards our exit.”
Customer: “F*** you!” Storms off.
Coworker: “I would have given him wrong directions on purpose…”
I have recently come to the conclusion, in a totally unscientific way, that most people are incapable of saying, some even to themselves, “I was wrong.”
In his satirical novel, “God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater’’, Kurt Vonnegut described (trough his alter ego, fantasy fiction author Kilgore Trout) a fictional court that dealt with ingratitude:
“It was called ‘The First District Court of Thankyou,’ which was a court you could take people to, if you felt they hadn’t been properly grateful for something you had done. If the defendant lost his case, the court gave him a choice between thanking the plaintiff in public, or going into solitary confinement on bread and water for a month. According to Trout, eighty percent of those convicted chose the black hole.”
I often think Vonnegut (through Trout) could also have described ‘The First District Court of I’m-sorry’. Think of the many lawsuits that would arise in that court system. The docket would be hopelessly clogged — the insistent plaintiffs being women as well as men.
Yakety Sax about 4 hours ago
This Is Not The First Time Jeff Has Done This
Two guys are ordering coffees at the drive-thru:
Me: “Do you want whipped cream on that mocha?”
Customer: “Yeah, sure. Cream me!”
Me: “Uh…”
Customer: “Sorry. That sounded better in my head.”
Passenger: “What did we say about things in your head, Jeff?”
Customer And Passenger: Word for word, in perfect synchronized unison. “That they should stay there.”
Yakety Sax about 4 hours ago
The Bald Truth Is That This Is Pretty Awesome
There’s a hospital near the mall where I work. We don’t often get people from the hospital, but there’s this dad who often brings his daughter in. She can’t be more than eight years old. She is absolutely tiny. She is completely hairless from chemo or whatever she’s going through. It’s obvious she’s embarrassed by it, seeing all my coworkers with their long hair. Her dad ends up shaving his own head, but it doesn’t seem to help.
One day they come in, and I have an idea.
My friend just cut my hair — and messed it up. He asked me if I wanted to just shave my head, and I said yes, so I’m more or less a chrome dome. As someone in their thirties, I’m pretty okay with this. It’s a fresh change, and I can wear hats as a fashion statement, as well as to keep my ears warm.
This little girl comes in, and I whip my hat off my head.
Me: “Hey! Twinsies!”
She’s seen me a couple of times, but she’s still kind of shy. She and her dad smile and talk about it for a little while, and then, suddenly, this gigantic bear of a man walks up and points at his own shaven head.
Man: “Oooooooh, look at us! Triplets!”
It didn’t matter what color we were, and it didn’t matter that the man and I were older than this little girl. We were triplets that day. That girl could not smile hard enough. She and the man were laughing uproariously, while her dad did his best not to cry.
I left that job about a year ago. I’m hoping she’s doing all right.
seanfear about 4 hours ago
men in general are not very verbal – unless they curse
Yakety Sax about 4 hours ago
That Is ‘Pretty’ Awesome
(I am a photographer running a studio in the inner city. We are well known for our children’s portraits, and we range from high-end portraits for modelling jobs to fun sibling photos and birth announcements. We do a bit of everything; as such, we are extremely busy, and it states on our website that we do not accept walk-ins. We are usually booked up six months in advance. One day, ten minutes before closing, a mum walks in with a young girl around six or seven behind her. I internally groan.)
Mother: “Hello. I know you’re closing soon, but I have a special favour to ask.”
(At this point the little girl peeks around her mother’s legs and I’m lost for words. Under her thick winter coat and hat, she is skeletally thin with huge dark circles under her eyes. From what I can tell, she has no hair, and a tube taped to her cheek that feeds into her nose. It is immediately clear this kid is very, very sick.)
Mother: near tears “My daughter saw one of your photos taped to the wall at the hospital. She REALLY loves unicorns and the photo had a girl photo-shopped onto a horse. I know you’re booked up, and it’s months before the next appointment, but…”
(At this point she actually starts crying. I realise that our next available appointment is probably way too far away for this particular kid. The little girl squeezes her mother’s hand. I am a very big dude, covered in tattoos and a beard, but I’m not ashamed to say I needed a minute before I spoke.)
Me: “Aww, that’s just for regular customers! I’ve been waiting all day to take a photo of someone as beautiful as you! What’s your name, sweetheart?”
(contd)
Yakety Sax about 4 hours ago
Wearer Of The Frown Crown
I’m a woman in my young twenties serving an older man:
Customer: “You’d be prettier if you smiled.”
Me: “I only smile for the handsome customers.”
Customer: “I… you… that’s mean!”
Me: “So you can comment on my looks but I can’t comment on yours?”
He leaves in a huff, and I catch the eye of my other female coworker.
Coworker: “I’m going to have to remember that one!”
Yakety Sax about 4 hours ago
Get Lost!
Customer: “Can you give me directions to [Another store I’ve never been to or shopped at]?”
Me: “Yeah, I know that’s in our shopping plaza, although I don’t know exactly where. I’d be happy to pull up a map on my phone for you!”
Customer: “I’d prefer if you just remember.”
Me: “I’d prefer it if you did too.”
Customer: “You can’t talk to me that way!”
Me: “Sir, I have no obligation to help you with anything outside of this store. I was going to look up the directions to be nice. Now the only directions I am giving you are towards our exit.”
Customer: “F*** you!” Storms off.
Coworker: “I would have given him wrong directions on purpose…”
FreyjaRN Premium Member about 4 hours ago
I’m lucky. Hubby does apologize. My cats, not so much.
Lucy Rudy about 4 hours ago
I had an EX like that.
ObiJoan about 3 hours ago
As they say, if a man buys you flowers without a reason, he has a reason to buy you flowers.
Liverlips McCracken Premium Member about 2 hours ago
I have recently come to the conclusion, in a totally unscientific way, that most people are incapable of saying, some even to themselves, “I was wrong.”
nosirrom about 1 hour ago
I don’t see anything wrong. He’s saying it with flowers.
PraiseofFolly 5 minutes ago
In his satirical novel, “God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater’’, Kurt Vonnegut described (trough his alter ego, fantasy fiction author Kilgore Trout) a fictional court that dealt with ingratitude:
“It was called ‘The First District Court of Thankyou,’ which was a court you could take people to, if you felt they hadn’t been properly grateful for something you had done. If the defendant lost his case, the court gave him a choice between thanking the plaintiff in public, or going into solitary confinement on bread and water for a month. According to Trout, eighty percent of those convicted chose the black hole.”
I often think Vonnegut (through Trout) could also have described ‘The First District Court of I’m-sorry’. Think of the many lawsuits that would arise in that court system. The docket would be hopelessly clogged — the insistent plaintiffs being women as well as men.