Aunty Acid by Ged Backland for October 01, 2024

The Language Of The Mind

A customer walks up to the counter.

Customer: Speaks a collection of syllables that make no sense to me at all.

Me: “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

Customer: Seemingly the same collection of syllables, this time less patient.

So technically he did repeat it, but I still have no idea what he’s saying!

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t understand—”

Customer: Breaks into yet more incoherent syllables, this time with rising anger, when he stops, pauses, has an internal moment. “I was speaking Tagalog, wasn’t I?”

Me: “I don’t know what you were speaking but it wasn’t English!”

Customer: “Sorry! I was having an argument with my inner monologue, and I forgot to transition out loud. I thought I was going crazy!”

Me: “You thought you were going crazy?!”

Well, That Was Fruitful

My mobile phone rings with an unknown number.

Scammer: “Hello, this is Lindsey from [Mobile Phone Company I haven’t been with for ten years].”

Me: “No, it isn’t.”

Scammer: “Yes, it is.”

Me: “No, it isn’t.”

Scammer: “Yes, it is.”

Me: “No, it isn’t.”

Scammer: “Yes, it is.”

Me: “No, it isn’t.”

Scammer: “Yes, it is.”

Me: “No, it isn’t.”

Scammer: “You are a f****** idiot.” Hangs up

This Generational Blaming Isn’t Mathing

I catch myself yawning at the store I work at during the last minutes of working a double shift (I need the money, guys!). A customer buying cigarettes seems offended by this.

Customer: “Boring you, are we?”

Me: “No, sorry! Just been a long day.”

Customer: “You kids don’t know the meaning of a long day! I used to work twelve-hour shifts back in my day!”

Me: “Well, I’m doing a double, so we do have long days, too.”

Customer: “What time did you start today?!”

Me: “Six this morning.”

Customer: “See, and it’s only ten! That’s four hours, you sensitive snowflake!”

Me: “6 AM to 10 PM is sixteen hours.”

Customer: “Ten minus six is four! If you can’t do math that simple maybe you belong working here.”

Me: “I… sure.”

I choose not to argue.

Me: “So for the two packs of [cigarettes] that will be $18.”

Customer: “What?! Why so much?”

Me: “They’re $9 each, which times two makes it $18, but it’s okay if you can’t do simple math, that’s what I’m here for!”

The customer scowled at me as she paid, and with that final customer, I signed off and went home to a well-earned sleep!

Well, That’s A Kid Of A Different Color

I was a children’s ski coach. For the group lessons, each child would be assigned a team, indicated by a colored vest, for their age and ability.

While I was teaching a group of reds (three- and four-year-old beginners), a woman approached me.

Woman: “My kids are in a lesson. Where are they so I can watch them?”

Me: “What color are they?”

Woman: “Excuse me?!”

It turned out that her kids were in a private lesson and were not part of our colorful classification. (This also meant that it was hard to guess where they would be!) I tried to be more careful about using coach shorthand with the public after that.

They Walk Among Us… And Worse, They Probably Vote, Part 4

I try not to mix up politics with customers, but it is in the middle of a local election and it’s all the regular customers in our local sleepy town can talk about.

Customer: “So… who you votin’ for?”

Me: “Well, I’m happy to let you know that I will vote. I don’t need to tell you who, though.”

Customer: “Oh, it’s alright. I won’t tell anyone.”

This customer has been a regular for a while, and I have deemed her a nice old lady. I go against my gut and make conversation:

Me: “Well I’m going to vote for [Candidate] since [Other Candidate] seems to hate public transportation and since I can’t drive for medical reasons I kinda need that.”

Customer: “Hmph… I don’t vote for anything that’s got “trans” in its name.”

Last time I go against my gut!

I wish I could jog.

I did well in PT today. She comes twice a week to work me hard. Today, I went to the bedroom door, then wheeled myself to the bathroom and back. I saw the new bidet hubby installed. Nice!

You Work Checkout? Checks Out…

I am working checkout, and a customer has joined my line, followed by the next customer a minute later. After a couple of minutes, the first customer shouts out to me:

Customer: “Are you blind?! Call some help over! We’ve been waiting too long!”

Before I can even acknowledge what they said to me the next customer jumps in:

Next Customer: “My brother in Christ, you have been waiting in the line for two minutes; you can wait two more.”

Customer: “Don’t you “brother” me! They should open more lanes when customers are waiting.”

Next Customer: “Are you the blind one?! Every lane is open!” Pointing to me. “Should she start building a new one right now? That will certainly speed things up.”

Customer: “Then she needs to work faster!”

Next Customer: “Yes, because you shouting at her and distracting her will certainly do that.”

Customer: “Mind your own business!”

Next Customer: “You’re in line ahead of me. You delaying the line is my business. There are six people in line and you’re the only one being an a**hole about it. Shut up and let that sink in.”

The customer grumbled and stewed for a little while but didn’t argue back. When it was the next customer’s turn to checkout:

Me: “Thanks for that.”

Next Customer: “You kidding? That was satisfying as h***! I work the checkouts over at [Big Box Store] and I can only dream of saying things like to my customers!”

That explains it. They GET it.

My butt cheeks clap most mornings, presumably to wake me up, if my bladder hasn’t already done so.

Clapping cheeks is something I hope I’ll never experience…

I sometimes bemoan my flappity upper arms, then I remember, “They used to be full of FAT!” And I grab the 5-pound weights to Work That Flesh!

“…and thought people we are cheering me on.” ???

I don’t have enough a$$ for my cheeks to clap. Typical white male.

Embarrassing when your grammatical errors are out there for all to see, isn’t it, Ged? ☺

Aunty, that’s not you butt cheeks clapping, that’s your arm flaps slapping against your sides.

Slow down…….you move too fast!!!

“were”

We know what that breeze is and where it’s coming from, to make your cheeks sound the applause.

And your boobs slapping you in the face.

We all need to proof read before we hit send. Always seems like when I don’t I should have. Write Geb! LOL :)

Don’t lie to us. That wind was emanating FROM your butt-cheeks, and you know it.

That’s disgusting and hilarious!!

thanks for that mind pic… now I need a lobotomy!

TMI Aunty. I have two replaced knees, and the doctor recommended I not run or jump anymore. That is how I destroyed the original equipment.

Grammatical error: the correct word is WERE, not WE’RE!!!