A great mind once said, "Only two things are infinite: The universe, and human stupidity." Now, we can't say for sure whether the first part is true, but the second? That, we've proved beyond a shadow of a doubt.
I run a consumer advocacy firm. I had a client come in and tell me that he bought a product, and the company refused to honor the warranty after the product broke. I asked for details, and he just started screaming in my face asking if I was going to take his money or not. I decided then that I wasn't taking him on as a client, but I wanted to know what was going on. I’ll never forget the story that he told me.
I convinced him to tell me what happened. Turns out, he bought a computer back in the 1990s. It had just recently stopped working. But not because it was old and just stopped working. It was slow, so he picked it up, and threw it out a two-story window. And then he wanted to sue the manufacturer for breaking the warranty.
My all-time favorite is a client I had who was charged with drinking and driving. He wanted to challenge the charges on the grounds he thought he was sober, and the tests were administered improperly. Well, he appeared at his court hearings so inebriated he could barely stand. Twice. Both times, he got into his car and tried to drive away. Both times, officers promptly stopped him, administered a breathalyzer, and charged him. We didn't win that case.
I was a surgical nurse who had a patient return to the OR who had some plates and screws put in their elbow for a fracture. The hardware was causing them discomfort, so instead of talking to her surgeon, she came up with a horrifying way to treat herself.
She tried to remove one of the screws with a knife and screwdriver. I got the case for the wound clean-up and replacement of said protruding screw. She was one of the strangest patients I had.
I was an ER doc. I once had a 20-year-old and his girlfriend come in at 2 AM freaking out because "something had tore his throat open". He seemed fine. There was no blood, and his breathing was normal. I had him open his mouth and saw nothing. I didn't want him to lose confidence in me.
Clearly, something had happened, so I was looking and looking. There was nothing wrong with this kid’s throat. Finally, I said, “Look, it seems OK. What do you feel or see”? He replied, "I don't feel it, but LOOK, IT’S RIGHT THERE". I asked, “Where”?, as I was looking and looking. It was his uvula.
Somehow this kid had gotten to the age of 20 without ever noticing his uvula. His girlfriend was also horrified. I told them it was normal, but they didn’t believe me. So I told them I was about to freak them out and showed him his girlfriend's uvula.
I was arguing for my client to be released on his own. The judge asks him where he is going to live. "With my fiancée,” he says. He spins a lovely tale about how wonderful his fiancée is, how supportive, did he mention they are having a baby, and he wants to get out and take care of his soon-to-be wife and kid to support them properly. The judge asks the courtroom, “Could Defendant's fiancée please approach the bench"?
From opposite sides of the room, two women stand up and start walking to the front. That’s when I realized what was happening. One is about four months pregnant, and the other is nearly nine months pregnant. They are looking at each other with identical expressions of "who the heck are you"? You could see the exact moment when each of them realized, "That woman is with my man".
The brawl started before they even got to the counsel's table. Pregnancy or not, these chicks were seriously trying to end one another. The bailiffs had to stop laughing long enough to break up the brawl. My client says, “your Honor, I didn't think they'd both come". The judge said he was denying bail for my client's own protection.
My Dad was suing a customer for nonpayment. The judge ruled in his favor for the whole $15,000. The guy he was suing got up to leave, but walked over to my Dad, and said "If you think you are going to see a dime of that money you are a freaking moron. I will kill you first. " He then walked away—but there was something that he didn’t realize.
For a second my Dad was worried the guy would get away with it, but he didn't worry much because the guy had said it loud enough for the bailiff and the judge to hear. He did not make it out of the courtroom.
I was working in the back of an ambulance on a patient who seriously needed nitroglycerin to lower their blood pressure. I told him: "Before I give this medication to you, I need to triple-check that you have not taken any ED meds in the last 72 hours like Viagra or Cialis. If you have and I give you this nitroglycerin, your blood pressure could drop dangerously low".
I then asked him, “Have you taken any of these meds?” The tone in his reply made me suspicious. “Oh no, never”. I asked him again to confirm, to which he replied, “Oh yes, of course, I am”. I ran through the list of potentially harmful side effects again. Again, he said, “No, never”. I was annoyed, but I carried on with it, “OK, hold this pill under your tongue”. Then he asked, “Does generic Viagra count?”
I had a patient come in who had accidentally stuck a chainsaw in his leg the day before. He managed to cut his fibula and partially cut his tibia. He put some diesel fuel on it, wrapped it in duct tape, and kept working. The next day he stepped off of something, and it snapped the rest of the way through.
He came in the front door with his leg flopping and bending where it shouldn’t be. To top it off, he rated his pain at a 6/10. He was a tough old man. We admitted him to ortho to clean out the diesel and necrotic flesh.
I saw this young guy in the ER who had gotten into a brawl with some guys at a bar. When he woke up the next morning, he started getting some changes in his vision. He said that it was like a “black sheet coming down” on his left eye. This is a textbook symptom of retinal detachment. It’s an emergency in ophthalmology because if it fully detaches, you get permanent vision loss.
You need to immediately go for surgical repair and then be extremely careful with that eye for weeks afterward. You even have to keep your head down most of the time for the next couple of days to help the re-attachment process take. Well, this patient decided to do the worst thing possible.
Naturally, this guy went and rode roller coasters all day at the local theme park with his buddies. He first presented to our ER two days later with permanent vision loss in that eye.
I used to sell paint. A woman came in saying she wanted to paint her fence. I gave her advice and explained to her how to prepare the surface. Then, she asked, "Do I need anything to apply the paint?" I told her she needed a roller or a brush. Her response left me in disbelief. "Oh, I can’t just splash the paint on the fence?" She was completely serious.
When sending confidential documentation, we would encrypt it and put a password on it. It's common practice to send the document and the password in two separate e-mails. I got a message from this guy saying he couldn't open the document I sent him. I asked him if he had used the password. He told me, "Yes. It said there was an error".
So I started digging deeper and asked, "What password did you use?" He told me, "I just hit OK and it said that I had the wrong password". At that moment, I knew something was fishy. "Wait..so did you type anything in?" He replied that he didn’t. So, I asked if he could use the password that we provided him with. He said, "I didn't think it would work, so I deleted the e-mail".
I prosecuted a guy for faking one-dollar bills. They were terrible, but I still think he spent more on supplies than he actually produced. They were an extremely light color and the wrong kind of paper. The gas station cashier that he tried to pass them to thought he was kidding. It wouldn’t have been that bad—but then he made things 1,000 times worse.
After his pretrial conference, the judge was showing me the new security system they had installed, and we watched him steal from a car in the parking lot. His public defender was not a happy camper.
I’m a public defender and did a short stint doing juvenile cases. My best one was a kid was taken in for battery because he threw a tomato slice at his mother. Our defense was self-defense. The mom made him a sandwich, and he whined because he didn't like tomato. His mother then threatened to slam his face in the sandwich if he didn't eat it.
Kid picked up the tomato slice with his finger and proceeded to fling it at his mom. The state tried to argue the mother was exercising corporal punishment, but we countered by saying slamming his face into a sandwich is beyond the scope of corporal punishment, and could lead to serious bodily injury. Thus it necessitated preemptive self-defense. The judge bought it. Or maybe he thought it was too ridiculous. Who knows? Not guilty is all we cared about.
I used to work at a call center for a large bank. A customer phoned in while he was in one of the branches and said the queue was too long, so he wanted me to help him. I asked what his query was and his response caught me off-guard. He said the ATM was broken and he had to withdraw cash. I asked him how I could possibly help him withdraw some money from the bank over the phone, and he said, "Why can't you just fax it to me?"
I was a nurse for 20 years. My husband had a very high pain tolerance and was always hungry, so one day, I met him for lunch. I was worried when he wouldn't eat and said his lower abdomen hurt. I talked to a doctor friend of mine, and my husband was sent for an immediate CT scan. He was sent home to wait for the results.
So, being who he was, he felt better and ate two chili dogs with Fritos. BIG MISTAKE. Of course, when the doctor called and told him to get to the hospital NOW because his appendix was about to rupture, my husband had to be kept in a holding pattern for 12 hours because he had eaten a big meal.
I represent clients before the IRS. I had a couple who owed around $250,000 in back taxes. We had no defense, so the only thing to do was have the clients meet with the IRS and plead for leniency. Well, the wife got arrogant with the IRS agent. At one point, she stood up and screamed "You'll take away my Mercedes over my lifeless body"! at the IRS agent. Then, she stormed out of the conference room. Needless to say, she lost the Mercedes.
My aunt is a civil suits lawyer, and usually, everything is settled out of court, so she mostly just does paperwork. But she has had a few cases go to trial, and this is one of her absolute favorites—and one of the dumbest suits I have ever heard. A middle-aged woman is shopping in her nearby dollar store. She comes to a wall of hanging toilet seats.
You know, the really nice toilet seats you buy at a dollar store? She is looking at the toilet seats, and proceeds to remove one to further inspect it. Somehow, one of the seats just above the one she removed falls, and hits her in the head. So she obviously goes to the nearest attorneys to sue this store for gross negligence.
She could have been seriously injured by this falling toilet seat! Details come out, and there was already a sign on the toilet seat wall telling customers to ask for assistance before removing anything. Workers' witness testimony say there is very little chance this woman missed the sign. Honestly from the details, it sounded like this woman was just looking for some free cash.
But my aunt's job is to win the case, no matter how stupid or frivolous. Somehow she got a jury to agree the store was at fault. The woman actually won $10,000 dollars. The case and arguments got published in a monthly journal on trials, because it was just so entertaining. And that's the story of why your local Family Dollar has a glass case around the toilet seats.
I used to work at a grocery store deli. We had one customer who left me totally speechless. She asked me: “The eight-piece chicken...how many pieces are in it?" I said, "How many pieces are in the eight-piece chicken? Um. There are eight pieces in the eight-piece chicken". She was very polite and replied, "OK, I'll have that, please!" So, I packaged it up, and she went away happy.
I worked at an independent pet store. We mainly sold dog supplies, but there was a small section of cat toys, catnip, etc. A newer, pretty gimmicky item we brought in was a line of catnip that was packaged to look like an illicit plant. It had “prescription” bottles and pre-rolls”. People usually knew these were catnip products.
However, on many occasions, I had many people ask the same hilarious question: "How does the cat take tokes on it?" Or, even better yet, "How can they even hold the lighter? They've got paws?" I never do quite know how to reply besides muddled laughter.
I was an ER resident and had a patient who came in for pain in his schlong. He said it had been going on for two days, and he couldn’t feel the tip of it, and the shaft was very tender and painful. On examination, he had the top skin retracted, and it was so swollen it couldn’t be reduced over the tip. So, I asked him, “Did anything happen in particular when this first started”?
He said he had some mild discharge a few days ago and decided he needed to clean it off. But it was what he used to clean it that as so disturbing. He took “the cleaner I use to clean the dashboard of my car” and rubbed it on the tip of his manhood because he thought it was sterile, like antiseptic.
This, of course, burned, and the tip of his junk blew up like a balloon. This continued for two days. He said he could still pee, so he “didn’t think anything of it”. Then, he said that morning, he decided to try and reduce the skin, and it wasn’t working, so to decrease the swelling, he took Purell hand sanitizer and rubbed it on the tip again.
As he was doing that, his wife walked in, saw how deformed his schlong looked, and brought him to the ED. He really did not know when to stop playing doctor.
I worked in a cell phone store. I spent 90% of my day explaining that just because Facebook is on your phone, doesn't mean we control Facebook, your email, or any other problematic app. Once, had an "ask for a manager type" come in and insist that we used our computer to reset her iPhone and Apple ID. She'd gotten herself locked out by not knowing her password, and her kid had tried to get around it by doing a factory reset.
Doing that on an iPhone registered to AppleID locks the phone down completely. Since she didn't have her password, she couldn't even power the phone on. When I explained that she would have to contact Apple since they were the manufacturer of the device and her AppleID was an account with them, she absolutely lost it right then and there. She screamed, "So you sell a product, but you don't support your product?!?!"
Before I could explain, again, that we do not make the phones, my coworker chimed in, "Lady, Walmart also sells these phones. When was the last time you went to them and got a repair done?" She sputtered for a minute and walked out, raging about a lawsuit that failed to materialize.
This is the story about my good friend Skip, who is a loveable idiot through and through. Skip had a major crush on a girl who I will call Sally. Sally was that girl who had all the right things. Great hair, amazing personality, and she loved it when guys were super creative when they would ask her out on dates. The more creative, the more you had her attention.
It was getting close to Valentines’ day, and time for the dance we called the Sweethearts’ Ball. Skip desperately wanting to ask Sally to the dance, but couldn’t come up with a creative enough way to ask her. Myself and our friend were popping off suggestions while at lunch. Me: Dude, you could always send her some roses. Friend 1: No dude, send her a bag of M&Ms and say, it would be so sweet if you would go to the Sweethearts’ with me.
Friend 2: Dude NO, you should toilet paper her car and say, It would wipe me out if you went to the Sweethearts with me. This is where the problem starts. Friend 3: Dude, that’s stupid, why not just pour a heart shape on her lawn with gasoline and light it on fire and say my heart would go up in flames if you went to the Sweethearts’ dance with me. Skip, listening to all of this, had his mind clamp around one thing that was mentioned.
I’m sure at this point some of you have already figured out the one he chose to do. This was all on a Friday. None of us were present when Skip asked her. However, we did see the horrific aftermath. Here are the events that followed. Monday: Sally avoided Skip. Like, He’s a capital-P Psycho avoided him. Tuesday: Skip is now starting to behave strangely. He’s very nervous and looking over his shoulder.
Wednesday: Skip’s name is called over the intercom system before classes start. About 10 minutes later, the principal’s office calls in me and a couple of friends. We are told to sit outside the office, and we hear a loud conversation inside. Me: Dude, what the heck did Skip do? Friend 1: Don’t know. I’m not sure how we are involved here. Friend 2: He did something stupid I’m sure. Only we had no idea how bad it was.
Me: Dude, do you think he did the toilet paper thing? Friend 2: No, this is something bigger. Friend 1: Our names had to be dropped some time dude. Me: It's kind of freaking me out. About this time Sally walks into the office with a smirk on her face. She says, “Have they told him yet?” All of us are totally confused, Friend 1: Told him what?
That’s when the door opens. My blood ran cold at the sight. Skip comes out, handcuffed. Crying his eyes out, repeating over and over again, “Sorry, sorry, I am so sorry!!” It was then that Sally walks up to him…and gives him a huge hug. Sally: Oh by the way, YES!!! I will go to the Sweethearts’ Ball with you. Our jaws just drop. We are all thinking, what just happened?
They uncuff him, and he has the same look as us. The fire marshal then walks out laughing. Fire Marshal: It was all her idea, I couldn’t refuse my little girl. However, if you ever set fire to my lawn again, I’ll kick your butt. You will come and fix it. And you three (he looks at us), stop putting ideas into his head. He will clearly do anything you guys tell him to.
That was the day we found out that Sally’s father was the fire marshal in our county. He and the sheriff gave him a tongue lashing for setting fire to his front yard, with a heart shape burning in the grass and a sign by the front door saying, MY HEART WILL GO UP IN FLAMES IF YOU WENT TO THE SWEETHEARTS’ WITH ME! It was a really good dance, we all had a ton of fun.
Skip and Sally have been happily married for 23 years now.
I worked at Wendy's through high school and part of college. One day, a man in his 50s, wearing a bright magenta suit, walked in and ordered a burger. I asked him, "Do you want a combo or just the sandwich?" He asked me, "What is a combo?" I explained to him that it was a sandwich with fries and a drink, but somehow he didn't understand. He looked at me blankly, I started to get annoyed.
He said, "I want fries and a drink, but what is the combo?" We went back and forth on this for almost FIVE MINUTES. I don't even remember if he ever figured out what a combo was or if he ended up getting it. However, I remember seeing him two weeks later in a different city at my other job training political canvassers. He was wearing the same magenta suit.
I was in such shock that I just stared at him, saying nothing, thinking, "It's the combo guy."
I worked at a gas station that sold more than just gas. This man came up to the register and said, "Twenty outside." I asked, "Which pump," to which he responded the one on the right. There was a left and right on each pump, so I asked which car, and he pointed to a truck. The next question he asked was, "Can I have a slice of pizza?"
I responded, "Sure, what kind?" His response left me dazed and confused. "Pizza," he said. We had at least three kinds of pizza, sometimes four. I had no clue about his likes and dislikes, so I said, "Which kind? I wouldn't wanna give you something you don't like”. He told me, "Whatever is fine," so I gave him a random piece. Of course, he asked, "Can I have a different kind?" At that point, I almost lost it.
I worked at an outdoor ski shop. In the summer, it was obviously slower, so they pushed tents, chairs, and general camping and hiking gear. We usually had some chairs on display outside the store as well as extra chairs inside for people to grab. One customer saw a chair, saw the same one inside, then came up to us and asked, "Do you have any of these in stock?"
It took us a few seconds to answer because we weren't sure if we heard right, and that was apparently too long for her. Her next move made our jaws drop. She stormed out of the shop, saying, "You people are OBVIOUSLY not good at your job. You should find something else to do with your lives!!" She even emailed and complained to head office, who asked us what happened.
We sent in the security footage, and they banned her from the store. She was someone who came in often but didn't spend much. One colleague went up to her once, smiled, and asked if she needed any help. She snapped, saying, "Yes, you can help me by leaving me alone," and stormed out of the store, leaving my colleague dumbstruck.
This was probably one of the stupidest people I've ever met. He was a 26-year-old male and turned up an hour and a half late the first day for work. He was brought in by his mom, which I thought was kinda odd for a grown man. I let that slide…but then things just got worse. It was a small roadside cafe/eatery, so I thought I'd get him started on small duties to ease him into the way of the place.
I asked him to put new toilet paper in the toilets. A minute or so later, I hear him yelling "HEEEYYYYY, it won't fit on the toilet roll holder!" I'm like what? That's a pretty simple thing. He calls out again so I tell him to bring it to me so I can show him. That’s when I realize he's carrying a roll of paper towel; it's almost three times the length of the toilet paper holder.
I say, "That is paper towel." “No it's not" "Yes, it is! Have you ever seen toilet paper that big in your life?" "Uh...no" "Right, furthermore, and probably more perplexing—can you not see that this massive roll couldn't possibly fit on this small bar?” "Yeah, I thought that was odd." Oh boy, well, the day goes on and after the kitchen is pretty much closed except for pre-cooked baked goods, I get him to give a general clean and ask to make sure he wipes down all the benches.
I leave him to it as I assume he's doing fine. I found out my mistake far too late. One of the other staff comes and says we've run out of toilet paper, and I'm like what? That's not possible. Sure enough, all the packs are torn open and empty except for the rolls on the holders. At this stage I realize there can only be one culprit, and call the guy over.
“Did you do something with the toilet paper?" WHAT IS WITH THIS GUY AND TOILET PAPER? "Yes, I used it to wipe down the benches in the kitchen" "You used EIGHT rolls of toilet paper to wipe down the benches in the kitchen?! WHY are you using toilet paper to wipe down benches?" "I don't like using the dishcloth" "WHO taught you to wipe down benches with toilet paper? Have you ever seen anyone wipe down benches with toilet paper?"
"The cloth was dirty and I didn't want to clean it out." By this stage I'm thinking, day's nearly over, just let it go and I'm sure it will work out fine...yeah, you know what's coming. He strikes again, and this time, it's beyond moronic. So I've got him on serving customers pastries and the like because all you have to do is take it out of the glass bay, put it on a plate, and give it to them.
He doesn't even have to ring it up, just pop on plate and give. Well, one of the customers’ orders three scones with jam and cream. He's behind the counter doing his thing and I have a little peek and see, yes, he's cut them in half and managed to put jam and cream on them. About a minute later, the customer brings the scones back up to the counter.
"There's something really hard in these scones, I bit down and it was like crunching on a rock or something" Of course I'm puzzled "Oh, I'm really sorry about that—" when the guy cuts in: "It's probably just the seeds in the jam." There's something about the way he says this that makes my alarm bells ring. "Show me what you put on these scones."
I start marching toward the prep bench, and sitting on the bench is the bowl of whipped cream…and next to it, in a plastic bag, is a broken glass jar that contains the jam. This idiot is feeding the customer broken glass. "I didn't think it would be a big deal." "Are you insane?!" I grab the plate of mostly uneaten glass-infused scones.
"How is anyone supposed to eat this?” To my utter—utter—amazement, he proceeds to EAT THEM, in front of me, all the while crunching on glass and flinching every time he does. I’m paralyzed dumbfounded. When he finishes eating them he says, "Do you think I should go to the hospital?" I could only reply: "You're fired.” I will never forget this until my last day.
I worked part-time at a video game store. One day, a soccer mom came in with her demon spawn and gave me grief for not having “that Sonic game” available. When I asked her which game she was talking about, as I wasn’t quite sure, she replied, “The one where you go fast! My child wants it, and you will not disappoint him”.
I told her if she was talking about Sonic Forces, it was available for pre-order, but it hadn’t been released yet. I said, “If that's the game you're talking about, you can pre-order it now and receive it at release”. But she wouldn't have ANY of it. She said, “My son wants it now. Look, I'll slip you a tenner if you get it for me; nobody has to know”.
She just didn’t get it. I told her again, “I'm sorry, ma'am, but we don't have any copies of the game. Even if we did, I would not be allowed to break the street date for the game. Once again, if your child wants the game, you can pre-order it now, and you'll receive it on the day the game is scheduled for release..” She then asked to speak to my manager and kept trying to get him to break street date for a game we didn't even have copies of.
I have had DOZENS of clients over my 10 years of web development call my company because their internet was down. First, they would tell me that their website doesn't work. So I'd ask them to go to a different website, and they would say to me something along the lines of, “Oh, actually, no websites are loading, and our email is down too".
I'd tell them that it sounds like their internet is down. Their usual response is infuriating: "Can't you fix that for me?" or "Yes, that is why I called you guys". I then have to explain to them that they pay a company such as Time Warner or AT&T to get their internet and that we neither supply internet nor did we do the installation at their company for any internet services.
I used to work in a school library. We would open it for students during lunch, then close the doors and put out a large closed sign when it got full. The sign was on a wheeled easel that the students could read from both ways down the hallway and they had to walk around as it took up half the space. But here's the frustrating part—students would often walk past the sign that said “LIBRARY CLOSED” through double closed doors and then try to walk in.
My favorite response was, "Did you read the sign?" They would often say, "No," to which I would reply, "Oh, well, if you can't read, you shouldn't be in a library. Goodbye!"
I worked at a Japanese restaurant for a while when I was in college, and we had this thing called a Volcano roll. It cost $7.25. A California roll there cost $3.75. The Volcano roll was a California roll cut into the shape of a triangle and topped with spicy mayo that had been heated up with about $0.10 worth of fish; literally just a few bits.
You were much better off ordering a California roll and paying $0.50 extra for spicy mayo on the side and asking us to heat it up. I had one guy come in and order a couple of regular rolls along with a Volcano roll. When served in the restaurant, we would put the sauce on top unless they asked us, so it looked like a Volcano roll.
When I brought that roll to him, he looked at the plate with utter confusion. "Oh, I didn't know you guys put the sauce on, I've only gotten it for pick up, and the sauce is always on the side. I don't really like it. Could you bring me one without it?" I tried not to laugh and said sure. I went back, and the sushi chef asked what was wrong. I told him that he didn't like the sauce and wanted one without it.
He laughed and said alright, so he took a California roll, cut it up, and put it on the plate. I brought it back to the guy, and he was super pumped. The guy paid $7.25 for a roll that would have cost him $3.75, and the sushi chef and I got to split a free volcano roll. Usually, I would have just told him about it, but the dude was being pretty arrogant the entire time trying to impress the girl he was with.
A woman was trying to buy fabric to cover tables but didn’t have measurements of the tables. After I explained a lack of size standards since tables come in all sorts of sizes and shapes, she immediately said the first table was standard size. We were off to a great start. We finally figured out how much she needed for the first one and cut it for her. Then we moved on to the second one—and things went downhill.
I rolled some fabric off the bolt and went to straighten it out, only for her to grab the material and start moving it. She opened it and asked the width, which I read off the bolt, and she paused. She thought for a moment and said, “That’s just not big enough. If I cut it, will that make it bigger?” It took all my willpower to tell her, “Unfortunately, no, making it smaller will not make it bigger,” with a professional tone.
I was calling around grocery stores in Missouri looking for Tofurky for Thanksgiving for a vegan girlfriend. I called one store, and the woman who answered the phone said, “Let me transfer you to the meat department”. Before I could object, I was talking to some guy in the meat department. I told him I wasn’t sure that I was in the right department, but I was checking if they carried Tofurky.
He said, “Oh, I think I’ve heard of that! That’s like the vegetarian part of the turkey, right”?
We were at a combination A&W/Long John Silver restaurant. My mom looked at both menus and asked me, "What's the difference between the #2 on this menu and the #2 on the other one"? They were clearly different, so I told her, “One is fish and the other is chicken”. Her response baffled me. She said, "I know but what's the difference"? She just didn’t get it.
I used to work as a paralegal and had to fight with someone in the social security office when they accused one of my clients of deceit. I got on a call with the agent who insisted that my client was faking the disability that her daughter had. The daughter had lost her life as a result of the disability, and it said so right on the death certificate. The agent told me that wasn't enough proof.
So Lisa was one of my best friends growing up. More due to proximity, as she was the nearest neighbor my age. Sweet and funny, Lisa was also not the brightest bulb. When she was born, she had blonde hair. Naturally, it darkened with age. Lisa hated that, so she tried Sun-In. Her hair turned tangerine blonde. She hated that even more. So I suggested she bleach her hair, as in hair dye. It went so, so badly.
I probably should have been more specific, in retrospect. In any case. Lisa was excited. She said she was going to do it that night and go super blonde. I was relieved and excited for her, as I thought I was about to finally hear the end of the seemingly never-ending hair saga. I went over to her house the next day. There were tears in Lisa’s eyes, as her mom was cutting off her hair in uneven clumps.
Bright blonde bits were strewn across the floor like some weird, broken halo. My mind was racing, struggling to figure out what led us here. Did she use too much dye? Leave it on too long? Forgot to wash out the Sun-In and some weird reaction occurred...? I asked her if she was okay and what happened. Her answer stunned me into silence.
Through a mix of what was now streams of snot and those kind of tears you only get from ugly crying, she said, “I did what you said. I used bleach. And now my hair is ruined!!!” While Lisa glared at me balefully, the pit of my stomach dropped from a mix of guilt and fear. Guilt that I’d apparently destroyed my best friend’s hair and fear that Lisa couldn’t handle this existential hair crisis, as she was already super self-conscious about her looks.
As she continued to glare at me from under patches of hair that increasingly looked like a three-year-old’s efforts of cutting Barbie’s hair, I struggled with what to say. Finally, I stammered and mumbled in front of her mom, ‘“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think this would happen..”’ Now, they were both glaring at me. Great. There was a long pause as my mind raced about what could have gone wrong.
I bleached my hair all the time and it never looked like this. What could have gone wrong...? Was it the brand...? After what seemed like hours of watching Lisa in absolute misery and just wanting to hug away my best friend’s tears, I asked “Lisa, I’m just sooo sorry." Maybe it was the brand or something? What brand did you use?” “Clorox,” Lisa replied. Yes, she used household bleach.
A few years back, one of my husband's fraternity brothers, Chad, stayed with us for a long weekend so he could attend some reunion-type thing. Since hubby and I had a long-standing family obligation on Friday night, Chad was left to his own devices in the house. I knew this wouldn't end well, but I was expecting get the dog high-type antics. It went worse than I could have ever imagined.
Chad went in the freezer for some ice cream, or maybe he was just being nosy. Anyhow, he saw some unlabeled tablets in a blister pack and decided they were illicit substances. Why? Who knows what goes on in the mind of a Chad. Hubby and I aren't the types to have anything stronger than Advil in the house. Regardless, he popped a couple. After an hour or so of nothing happening, he decided to take four more.
When we got home, Chad informed us that we'd better ask for a refund because those pills in the freezer were duds! What pills? The ones in our freezer? That's cheese curdling enzymes called rennet. I'd been going through a phase of learning to make my own cheese. Rennet is a necessary ingredient that comes in that form and is best stored in the freezer.
It absolutely will not make you high. In that quantity, it will cause severe gastric distress best not observed in nature. I will never forget the sounds that came from the bathroom all Saturday. Don't take mystery pills from the freezer, Chad. They're not all gonna be party favors.
This guy named Neil is a bass drum in our marching band. In addition to his former band felonies (always being late to rehearsal, not knowing how time signatures work, dropping his drum on a daily basis), Neil has committed a new and worse deed. After 12 hard years of constant fundraising, our band finally bought new uniforms to replace our old ones from the 90s.
These were not cheap. Each uniform came with a cost of about $1,000, not including the price for hats, gloves, and shoes. Because of the new uniforms, our band director drilled into us the no eating in uniform rule, a simple enough rule to follow especially if we heard it dozens of times a day. Our last competition of the year was in a large football stadium, and due to some timing issues we wouldn’t be allowed to take our uniforms off between our performance and when we had to leave.
Therefore, we would all have to wait an hour or so until we could get back to the bus and eat the dinners we had packed. Neil had a different, much more destructive idea. Apparently he had shoved money in his uniform before performing and used it to purchase a large serving of barbecue chicken wings. He then proceeded to eat them in uniform, and was completely clueless to the giant orange stain going down the entirety of the front of his white uniform until my band director saw and freaked out.
Needless to say, it was a fun time and he was extremely confused as to what he did wrong. Hopefully the dry cleaners can fix it, or our band is down a $1,000 uniform.
Oh the stories I have. I think my husband could be the king of all idiots. One of my favorites is when he wanted to remove his back hair but no one was around to help. He is not a hairy person at all but when he gets something in his head he can’t stop thinking about it. His great idea was to get Nair body hair remover, spread it on the bathroom floor and lay in it.
I can picture all 6’4” 300+lbs of him doing Nair angels in our bathroom. He gets in the shower and rinses it off and then goes about his day. Went to a work appointment, worked out at the gym, then picked up the kids from school. While walking out, our son asked a question that made him stop in his tracks. He asked why he had a bald spot in the back of his head.
Oh my God. He got Nair in his hair and had a perfect bald shaped 3 on the back of his head. After a few more days more hair fell out and it was a perfect 8.
I was at the electronica dance party at Disneyland. They had one of those laser shows where an actor bends the laser as part of the show. This fully grown dude—with the thickest yokel accent—said, “If they is real lasers, how ain’t he cutting his fingers off”? It was so funny my family had to give up our spot by the stage so we wouldn’t laugh in his face.
I worked on trains and have heard a lot of stupid stuff, but this was my top one yet. We got to a station and the signal ahead was on a red light, meaning “stop” or “do not proceed”. Basically the same as traffic lights. I made an announcement saying, "Sorry for the delay, we are currently being held on a red signal and will be moving momentarily".
Five minutes later, we moved but got stopped at the next station. A couple was walking down the platform toward the exit and I heard the husband/boyfriend go, "Ah, stuck at a red signal again". I acknowledged him and said, "Yeh, red signal again". The woman looked me straight in the eye and asked, "What’s a red signal"? I was stunned for a moment as I thought she was pulling my leg, but she was serious.
Her husband chimed in, "You know, red means stop and green means go". We both saw that it still hadn't sunk in, so he said again, "Like a traffic light". She took about five to ten seconds, and finally said, "Ooooo", as they kept walking down the platform. All I could think of at that moment was that she was having a blank day where her head was not functioning correctly, or she was one of those people that get you thinking, “How do you get up in the morning”?
So just over a year ago I switched jobs and went to work for a guy (Bob) who is running a new/used aquarium shop. The shop was built onto his house, so as a result I've become pretty close with his family, including his 15-year-old stepson, who is the stupidest person I've ever met. For the first couple of months, I thought he was just a bit quirky and clumsy, but as I've come to know him more, I've discovered that he is an idiot of the highest order.
Now, I've known some dumb teenagers in my time. Heck, I used to be one. But this kid is just on another level. Just in the year that I've known him: He licked a lit match because he thought fire would taste like a Flamin' Hot Cheeto. He cannot climb a flight of stairs without tripping up them. This is a multiple-times-a-day occurrence. And it gets worse.
He once dropped a bowl of cereal and milk, and rather than clean the mess with a towel, he soaked up the spill with his sock. A sock that was still on his foot. He then put on his shoes, went out to catch the bus, and went to school with a soaking wet milk-sock. He went to the school nurse that day because he was convinced that his foot was bleeding and soaking through his sock.
He's failing gym class. I have no idea how one fails gym class. He has broken more than 20 aquariums in the last year. When we buy used tanks, they need to be washed and leak-tested before we resell them. The boy sometimes does this to help out, but his method is mind-blowingly stupid. He can't understand that when you wrap the hose around an aquarium, you can't just yank it free.
Once, Bob was selling an older fairly-good-condition Cadillac that had been sitting in his driveway for a while. The day before the buyer came to pick it up, the stepson was mowing the yard and scraped the handle of the mower along the entire length of one side of the car. Oh, and he likes to use "Jew" as an insult. When I called him out on it, his reply made my blood run cold.
I discovered that he thought that Jewish people didn't actually exist. He thought that they were an imaginary race of people that everyone pretended to hate. He played lacrosse on his school's team this summer, and got benched all season because he told the coach that he didn't need to run laps or go to practice. This is probably why he's failing gym class.
One day, he left in the morning like normal to go catch the bus. Three hours later, he came back saying that he missed the bus, and he needed to be driven to school. The problem? It was Labor Day. There was no school. He stood at the bus stop for three hours on a day when there was no school. He also eats absolutely everything in sight.
If you leave food unattended for more than 10 seconds, it's gone. Bob went to Taco Bell and got food for the four of us. The stepson was left alone with it and ate his, mine, Bob's, and half of his mom's food before he realized that it probably wasn't all for him. When he found out that I'm a chile-head, he bragged for a week about how he loved super spicy food too.
He then tried a glob of my Exhorresco hot sauce(after I warned him repeatedly not to) and spent the next two hours crying and blaming me. It keeps getting worse. We've been gradually remodeling the house when we're not working in the store. His bedroom was the first room we finished. He managed to put a hole in the wall on the first day he moved in.
Bob told him to wash the truck one day earlier this year. He thought he'd be helpful and wash out the fuel tank as well. With water. His parents signed him up for tutoring to help with his grades. Turns out, all the tutoring in the world won't help your grades if you never turn in your homework. He was under the impression that homework was optional. Also, he routinely falls asleep in class.
He thought that fish were just very active plants. Yes, really. He managed to tip over and dump the contents of the trash can he was taking out to the roadside to be picked up. Rather than pick up the mess, he just kicked it around and spread it out across the yard, in hopes that it would be less noticeable if the mess was less concentrated.
One of my roles was as an IT rep for the department I worked in. Someone approached me saying their computer speakers were broken. My first question was, “Are you sure you tried turning the volume up?” They rolled their eyes at my ludicrous question and replied, "Yes, of course". So, I walked across the office to where their computer was with them by my side. When I got there, I was livid.
I took one look and turned the volume up. That was the day I gave up.
I used to be a manager at GameStop while in college. A guy called and told me the preowned Wii U he bought for his son stopped working. His son dropped it. I told him that we could give him another one, but since he didn’t buy the insurance, I could only replace it if the thing “just stopped working”. So, I said to him, “Well, maybe it stopped working before your son dropped it, and you can come in, and I’ll give you another one”.
I was trying to get this guy a free Wii U cause stuff happens, and I didn’t care. I would end up regretting being so kind. The guy proceeded to argue with me that it stopped working because of his son, saying, “No, I saw my son drop it, and then it stopped working. I’m positive”. Again, I said, “Oh, alright, well, maybe it wasn’t because of the drop. It probably just stopped working. I can’t exchange it if it broke because he dropped it, so I’m sure it was just defective. Bring it in, and I’ll swap it out”.
Again the guy insisted, “Nah, it definitely stopped working because he dropped it”. The dude came in an hour later and bought another one full price. The District Manager was in the store with me at the time, so I couldn’t say it outright, but I was shocked that this dude didn’t get what I was trying to do for him. I basically spelled it out.
A full-grown woman asked me how big our pizzas were. I stuck out my fingers, eyeballed about a foot, and said, “Around this big”. She paused for a moment and finally said, “Oh, length-wise?” I thought perhaps she didn’t know that our pizzas were round, so I told her that our pizzas were circular; therefore, any point across was length-wise.
I went back to tell the other co-worker what I had just experienced. Right after I told her the punchline, “..any point across is length-wise,” she stared at me with this confused look on her face. Her response had me baffled. She smiled and finally said, “Okay, not all of us are Mr. Engineer over here!” I just walked away. I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t think I was a genius for knowing about the geometry of a circle.
I worked at a coffee shop where we sold two sizes, small and large. I was working the register, ringing up a girl. I asked her what kind of coffee she got, which was fine. However, when I asked her if she got small or large, she responded with a suspicious tone. “Why do you need to know?” I had to explain to her that one was a larger quantity than the other, and you had to pay for that extra amount.
She scoffed and grudgingly told me, “Do you think I’m tricking you?”
Back in the 90s I lived with an idiot named John. He was a great guy, but I ended up having to establish some unique house rules because of him. The first was “no baking citrus fruit.” One day I came home and could smell something burning. I looked at the oven and it was set to 450F. I looked inside. In the oven was a cookie sheet. On this cookie sheet were several whole lemons and limes that had swollen to the size of grapefruits.
I called to John, who was lounging on the sofa, and asked in confusion, "Why is there citrus fruit in the oven?" This was the response: "I was watching Martha Stewart make potpourri and I decided that I wanted to make it." Now, Martha had apparently sliced up the fruit, laid it out on the cookie sheet, and put it in the oven at the lowest temp to slowly dry out.
John had attempted this, grown impatient, and raised the temperature. The resultant caramelized, burned discs ended up discarded. For attempt number two, he had placed them in the oven whole. Had I not interfered, his plan had been to slice them up once they were hot. When I explained that the process was meant to dry the fruit, not cook it, he removed them from the oven in defeat. The fruit had swollen as the juices inside heated up. I watched as John proceeded to spear the fruit with a fork, spraying searing hot acid all over himself.
The next rule was “don’t use Pledge on the floor.” I arrived home starving one day and proceeded to prepare a snack of cheese and crackers on a plate. I then attempted to carry this plate into the living room. Attempt. We lived in an apartment with parquet floors. We had no area rugs. I am not, by nature, a clumsy person, so imagine my surprise when I completely wiped out between the sofa and coffee table.
While I was lying there, covered in broken crackers, I couldn't 't help but notice the distinct smell of lemon furniture polish. This was odd, because there was no wood furniture in the room. John arrived home a while later and I was compelled to ask, "Um... Did you pledge the floor?" He grinned and informed me that since it makes furniture so shiny, it would be perfect for the wood floor.
The third rule was “no hiding coffee in the furniture.” Never, in the entire time we lived together, did I ever see John consume coffee that didn't come in a paper cup. We didn't own a coffee maker of any kind. Because of this, I found it odd when I could smell rancid coffee in the living room. I looked around for an abandoned cup but couldn't find anything. Finally the mystery of the smell got too much and I decided go hunting.
There was an empty ceramic vase on the coffee table, and for some inexplicable reason, It was full of whole coffee beans. I took it to the kitchen and then went back to my TV show. Why can I still smell coffee? I start examining the sofa. All along the piped edge of the back cushions, I found a row of individual beans. I confronted him later that evening.
He told me that he found old beans in the back of the fridge and thought they'd smell good. He also said that he'd debated putting them in the VENTS but couldn't find a way to make them stay.
I was preparing for my baby shower. My friend, who can be a little stupid, asked who would be there. Upon, hearing my two-year-old nephew would be there, she said “I haven’t seen him since your wedding five years ago.” Me: “He’s two. You have never met him.” Her: “Yes, I did at your wedding, he was the ring bearer.” Me: “My wedding was five years ago, he’s two.”
Her : “He was your ring bearer.” Me: “That was my cousin.” Her: “No, it was your nephew.” Me “I only have one nephew and he wasn’t born when I got married. The ring bearer was my cousin.” Her “Your other nephew then.” Me: “I only have one.” I bust out a picture of my cousin, saying, “this boy, who is my cousin.” Her: “ No, that’s your nephew the ring bearer.”
I don’t remember what finally convinced her but this went on for another five minutes.
I think it was sophomore year of high school when a friend outed himself as a fool. He seemed like a normal guy…until one day the truth came out. Some of us were talking about the walk home from school. My friend said he hated his walk home because it took him almost an hour. I'd been to his house before and it was only a few blocks from the school, so I asked why it took so long.
He explains that because of all the one-way streets, the walk to school is pretty quick, but to get home, he has to take a different, much longer route.
My friend Will got a job at a gas station/fast food place. During his first week there, they were training him on the sandwich line. He said everything was going well and he had the manager there with him to help him out. He finally gets his first customer. The guy orders a steak and cheese. Keep in mind that a steak and cheese sub is Will’s favorite food and he makes good ones at home, so it should be no issue for him.
Well Will makes the man's sandwich and even the manager comments on his good job making it. Right as he was about to wrap the sandwich, the customer notices that he forgot to cut the sandwich and asks Will to do it. This is exactly where it all went wrong. Will says, "Oh ya I forgot sorry about that," then proceeded to lay the sub down on its side and cuts the sub long ways.
The manager and the customer are now just both staring at Will in complete disbelief. Finally the manager asks him why he cut the sandwich like that and Will responds with "that's how you showed me." That was not how he was shown. So the manager and customer at this point start to laugh about it. The manager explains that in no way, shape, or form were you trained that way. He tells Will he can keep that sub for himself and to make the customer another one.
Will makes another perfect sub and begins to wrap it up when the customer notices for a second time he didn't cut it. Now to this day none of us could figure out what went through Will’s mind. Maybe he thought it would get a good laugh, maybe he was super hungry and thought he would get another free sandwich. All we know is that he laid that second sub down on its side and cuts it lengthwise again.
Both the manager and the customer were upset by this point and the manager sent Will away and made the sub himself. Will was removed from the sub station permanently and made into a cashier that shift. But the story didn’t end there. I finally asked Will (in front of some other friend) about the fateful sub day and his unorthodox cutting methods.
I said, “Will, if you had a long day at work and you're starving so you stop to pick up a steak n cheese on the way home and right before they hand you what looks to be a delicious sub...They cut it in half like the way you did, would you accept that sub? Will emphatically said with a look of disgust on his face: “Heck no! I wouldn't take that sandwich." He didn't understand our laughter.
We had new neighbors move in three days ago, and we’ve already had some interesting interactions. This is gonna be rough!! On their first day here, they knocked on our door to ask if our power was out. We said “no” and they said theirs was. I asked if their breaker switches were flipped. They had no clue what I was talking about. Not a big deal, not everyone knows about this, although they should.
So I offered to come over and have a look. When I walked in their house, I immediately got confused. The lights were on. I said, “I thought your power was out?” They said “It is! Our TV and Nintendo switch won’t turn on!” I went over to the entertainment stand they pointed at and had a look. They had the TV and the switch plugged into a power bar. The power bar has a red light up switch on it to indicate whether it’s turned on or off.
The light was off. I flipped the switch over and of course it worked. They didn’t seem embarrassed or anything. Turns out, that was just the prelude. Later that night, we have another bang on the door. It’s the neighbors. They say, “Are you sure the power isn’t acting weird? Ours is out again.” I ask them if all the power is out or just the TV and Nintendo switch.
They say TV and Switch so I tell them just to flip the light up button to on, on the power bar. They said they did and nothing happened. Reluctantly, I drag my butt over there to have a look. They now have a few more things plugged into the power bar, like a Scentsy candle, a charger of some sort and their cable box. When plugging these other things in, they unplugged the TV to make room for the other cords.
I let them know that if your TV isn’t plugged in, your Switch or cable won’t show up on the screen. OBVIOUSLY. Once again, they weren’t embarrassed. Fast forward to the next day. I can smell the scent of food. Really strongly. I can’t make out what it is, but something smells off. Almost like a chemical smell mixed with spices or something like that.
Anyways, I continue on with my day, scent in the air the whole time. I should have known disaster was coming. I’m out in my backyard doing some gardening when my neighbor yells at me over the fence. “Hey! Do you like deer jerky?” It didn’t click in my head immediately. I said “Yeah I do, why? You got some?” He says “Well not yet, but I will soon. I’m smoking it in the basement.”
It instantly popped into my head to ask what the heck he was using, because it shouldn’t smell like chemical. So I ask him, “You got your own meat smoker?” He says “Yeah I made it myself. It’s not that hard. Just need an old rain barrel pretty much.” I said “A plastic rain barrel!?!? Are you serious?!?!” He looked confused and said “Yeah. Why?”
I then explained to him about how plastic is toxic and when it’s heated up, it releases all that onto your meat. He shrugged it off and said “No big deal, it’ll be fine.” Somehow, that wasn’t the end of it. Today, their children (6 and 8) were running around in our front yard. We don’t really care if kids walk on our grass, as long as they stay out of the garden.
They were wrestling and we had a good time watching them scrap out the front window for about 5 minutes. That was until the younger kid hurt the older kid. As soon as he hurt him he knew he was in trouble. He took off running through the garden, trampling all over my wife’s flowers. His older brother followed and trampled over them some more.
My wife and I went running out to tell them they can’t do that. We told them nicely, didn’t raise our voices or swear. They apologized and left. Not even five minutes after we left, their parents came banging on the door. “Why are you telling our kids off?” We were stunned and explained the situation to them. Their response “our kids don’t lie.” I literally laughed.
Instead of continuing to argue with someone that won’t listen, I was just going to walk away. As I was about to close the door, his wife pipes up, “I don’t get why you guys would be so mad about them wrecking some ugly flowers anyways. It’s the city’s flowers. Like, why do you care so much?” My wife went off. “The city’s flowers? Ugly flowers? Why the heck would these be the city’s flowers?”
The wife then responds, “Like, how dumb are you? All front yards are city property. Like, know your laws idiot!” That’s when I shut the door. Wish me luck!
I know a middle-aged man named Aaron who is 100% a complete idiot. This man can hear anything on the news or on the radio, interpret it using his small brain, and take it as end-all, be-all fact. Don't even argue with him. This particular time a few years ago, it was extremely hot outside and he was trying to explain what he learned on the news.
Apparently, he was told the air isn't actually hot it's just "vibrating" (yes, at super basic level this is sort of true). He went on to say that wind was made by said vibrations, and when it was hot it vibrated so much it produced the “summer noise.” I think this brilliant gentleman thought the noise of CICADAS was produced by the heat itself. Yes, the bugs that make the loud chipper noise. The bugs.
At this point I was too dumbstruck to even have any sort of explanation or counter-argument.
While showing Apollo 13 to my astronomy class, I had a student ask me the dumbest question I have ever heard as a teacher. During the “Houston, we have a problem” scene, this one student raised their hand in the back of the room. His friend next to him told him to put his hand down, saying that it was “a stupid question”.
I went back and asked them what his question was, and his response was absolutely golden. He said, “Are all of the guys there named Houston?” I have taught for nearly ten years, and that one is still the winner.
When I was in high school, some of the jocks decided that Home Ec would be an easy A. One of the jocks was an absolute fool. So, the Home Ec class is learning how to use sewing machines. This guy is sewing merrily away, with his thumb sticking out perpendicular to his left hand, putting it on trajectory toward the needle. Not surprisingly, he runs his thumb through the feed and punctures it several times.
He calls out to the teacher for help. She comes over and asks him, “What did you do?” He replies, “I did this,” and proceeds to repeat his actions, including going through the feed and getting additional puncture wounds to his thumb.
I met this guy, Lewis, while interning at a non-profit organization. Lewis interned in the archives department, and once the summer was coming to an end he decided he would get a permanent job there no matter the cost. This led to several hare-brained schemes and unsuccessful attempts to show how good of an employee he could be. He tried to apply to a position in his department that had not existed for years because of budget cuts.
But Lewis was a member of the organization and thought he was superior to everyone else, so of course he thinks they'll just find the money so that he can continue working there. He meets with the main hiring director who again tells him there is no money or need for the position but that doesn't stop Lewis. Instead he comes up with an even worse plan.
Lewis decides to apply for another position in a completely different department that he has no qualifications for. His plan is to get the job....and then after a couple weeks move back into his old office at the archive department and pretend like he had been working there the whole time. Of course, his plan was ruined by the fact that he told co-workers about it, so some people already knew about his false intentions before he even had the interview.
Before this interview, Lewis tried to show how he can be a model employee. One day my soda got trapped in the vending machine. Lewis attempted to prove how macho he was in front of the hiring director by shaking and punching the machine until he was red in the face and ran out of breath. The best was yet to come. The hiring director then proceeds to pull out a key and unlock the machine in a couple seconds.
This make Lewis look like an absolute idiot while he's about to pass out from exhaustion. A few days later at lunch, one of the other interns mentions how she's getting some furniture delivered to her apartment. Lewis butts in and says, "I can come over to your place and help assemble it for you." She tells him thanks but I can do it on my own, but Lewis is unfazed.
"NO, I'm going to come over and help you, this is a man's job." What’s creepy is that Lewis was older than most of the interns by about five years. having already gotten a master’s degree while everyone else was undergrad students. A week later, Lewis receives a visitor in his office. The new CEO who was due to start in a month wanted to check in with everyone.
The CEO begins to explain how he wants to run things when Lewis tries correcting him. Despite having only worked there for two months and being due to leave in a week, Lewis starts to lose his patience. "THIS IS HOW WE"VE DONE THINGS IN THE PAST AND THIS IS HOW WE"RE GONNA KEEP DOING THEM." Somehow he still thought he had a good chance going into the interview despite screaming at the new CEO, who would have to approve new employees.
Well this ends exactly how you thought it would. He doesn't get the job and mopes back to his office to pack up his stuff, riding off into the sunset to scam his way into another job.
I used to work at a motel. It was not the sort of motel chain that brings to mind images of chocolates placed on pillows or romantic evenings in the hot tub; indeed, its signature decor can be seen in the background of certain low-budget rap videos. However, Mr. and Mrs. Idiot made it their monthly romantic getaway. In fact, due to a generous corporate policy that directed managers to provide an extra night free of charge to soothe any complaining guests, for a period lasting a year or more, they succeeded in stretching their monthly getaway to two nights.
Among the complaints that won them an extra night: The room was full of bugs after they left the door open all evening. The toilet stopped flushing after they emptied their ashtray into it The manager eventually received permission from corporate to cap the number of free nights a guest could be eligible for. The couple were the only guests ever to reach this lifetime cap at our motel.
Their shock over no longer having one free night a month did not end their regular getaway, however. It had to get much grosser. That was achieved after an incident involving copious amounts of vomit. Mr. and Mrs. Idiot were informed that they were now on the no-rent list. Apparently, this monthly stay was important to their marriage, because a few months later the manager received a call from Mrs. Idiot's divorce attorney.
What vital information did he need? He wanted to confirm that Mr. Idiot was responsible for both of them being banned from the motel. Yes, this was apparently part of the divorce proceedings. The manager explained that he considered each of them equally responsible, which was not the answer the attorney expected or wanted. Not long after, Mrs. Idiot called the front desk.
"You have me banned under the name Jane Idiot," she announced. "But—" and here she could not hide her pleasure at her own cleverness, "that's not my name anymore. I got divorced, and now my name is Jane Kelly." We had the pitch-perfect response. The front desk employee, trying to hide their laughter, said, "Ok, we'll make sure to ban you under the name Jane Kelly, too." A gasp of dismay, and the line went silent.
My sister used to work with a lady who was a total airhead. Let’s call her Kelly. There were a ton of stories, but this one in particular really stuck with me. One day Kelly had to call out from work in the middle of a heatwave. She was in the hospital, on IV fluids, from dehydration and heat exhaustion. After returning to work, my sister asked her how she got so dehydrated. The answer was mind-blowing.
Apparently, poor Kelly had no idea why at first, although I'm certain they tried hard to explain it to her at the hospital. I wasn't there, but from my sister's story, the conversation went something like this: Sister: "What happened? How did you get so dehydrated?" Kelly: "I don't know! I was just swimming." Sister: "Were you drinking water?"
Kelly: "Not really. But I was swimming!" Sister: "Uh, ok? You weren't drinking anything though? Like all day? It was almost a hundred degrees!" Kelly: "Yeah but I was in the water so I wasn't hot. And you can't get dehydrated when you are in water." No amount of explanation could convince her that she could, and did, get dehydrated while swimming because she didn't drink any fluids for hours on an incredibly hot day.
Too bad my sister doesn't work with her anymore, the woman was a gold mine.
There is a ridiculous girl in my class this semester. Entry level course. Students are around 18 years old. First week. I teach physics. That day, I used an example based on the scan of a running body. I then let the student work on another example based on a javelin. The girl raises her hand to signal she has a question. It was the strangest thing I ever heard. I walk to her desk and she asks, “Can you tell me what my finger has ?”
I don't understand so I freeze, confused. She then puts her finger really close to my face and I see some reddish skin shedding. “My finger, it hurts and I don't know what it is.” I'm baffled and I say I'm not a doctor and that questions about physics would be more appropriate. “Well.. you talked about the body of a person running. I thought you were a doctor.”
A few days later, we are in the computer lab. They have to follow a few steps, written on a sheet of paper, to retrieve some files. She raises her hand. Apparently, the computer is broken. She says that when she follows the first step, the computer shuts down First step is to click on the "start menu." She repeatedly pushed the power button. The "start button."
She did a few other dumb things not worth mentioning, but she managed a 0 on her final exam. But that’s not even the weirdest part. The weird part is that her copy was not blank. In fact, it was filled with words and equations. Except nothing made sense. But it wasn’t like some students do when they don't know the answer. Usually those are copying formulas for the sake of putting something on the paper and you can see on paper that those students do not feel strongly about their performance.
Her exam was not like that. It was an actual "resolution" of the problem. Basic algebra logic was thrown out of the window, but her way of giving her answers was full of confidence. I have never seen someone so blind about their lack of skills. She failed way under the passing grade, then asked to see her exam in my office. She tried to argue about my grading being too harsh.
I explained calmly how everything was defying reality on her copy, but she was still arguing some of it was good. I'm simplifying here, but her arguments were like: Ok, you said I should have used the conservative principle of energy here and the answer was 256, but my answer is 28 and at least I have one correct digit, even without using the right approach.
I don't even know how she made it that far. I don't even know how she will be able to provide for herself as an adult.
So this happened a few years back. I apply for a new job, which requires a drug test for all new employees. The company is relatively small and handles all of their testing in-house using dipsticks. There is little to no supervision or protocols when you take the test. They literally hand you a cup, ask you to go into one of the bathrooms stalls (it’s not even a single stall bathroom), have you pee in a cup, then hand them the cup.
They dip it right in front of you then you are done. Easy right? So this girl comes out and hands her cup of urine to the supervisor, who then proceeds to test it. Supervisor looks up at her and shows her the dipstick. Then this glorious conversation takes place. Supervisor: So you want to try again? Her (confused): No. You have my urine right there.
Supervisor: Oh, so you're a zombie then? Her: (more confused): Huh? Supervisor: Look, the urine you gave me was about 58 degrees Fahrenheit. Either you are lying or you are not alive. And since you don't look or sound like a zombie, I'm going to assume that it is not your urine. Her: It is my urine! I am cold-blooded. That's all. Supervisor (chuckling): Are you trying to tell me that your natural body temperature is around 58 degrees?
Her: Well I've never checked it, but yeah when I am nervous it's something around there. Needless to say, she was sent home immediately and told not to come back.
At one point, I believed my mother might have a severe learning disability, coupled with learned helplessness. No, she's just an idiot. When given directions to go to the end of the block to find parking, she shot back, "How am I supposed to know what a block is, I don’t remember that from school!?" After learning I have a gluten intolerance, she makes sure to buy me foods that don't contain gluten.
"I brought you gluten-free olives, gluten-free tomatoes, and gluten-free baby carrots." When I explain gluten comes from wheat, she shoots back, "Well I'm not wrong!" Speaking of baby carrots. I love them. My mom tells me how horrible they are because they are packaged in cancer. The water inside is cancer. She yells at me anytime I eat them. Unless they are the gluten-free type she brings over.
The first time she declared bankruptcy (the first of three) she claimed it was the furniture store's fault. She had purchased a new living room set. Yes, and it gets more bizarre. Despite having money for it, she mistook the "No payments for a year" deal as meaning "You are not allowed to pay for this for a year." By then the interest had made it far more expensive and the original money was spent.
The first time I brought my new boyfriend, now husband, over she giggled and told me she had something to show me. She walked me to her bathroom and said, "I've never pooped so big in my life! I saved it to show you!" It had been there for days. My husband still mentions this. I once bought her a laptop. This was an enormous mistake.
I spent the next year giving lesson after lesson. Simple things like how to make folders and organize pictures, how to use Google or Netflix. It was fruitless and caused a lot of fights between us. Eventually she said the computer stopped turning on and I viewed it as a blessing. After about six months of her complaining, I finally went to her house to see why it wouldn't turn on.
It was not plugged in. It. Was. Not. Plugged. In. I also bought her a cellphone. She can never remember how to find the pictures she's taken, how to access her email, and specifically how to connect it to her WIFI to save data. She told me she had the cable guy come out three times to see why it wouldn't connect, but it was simply broken.
I went over, looked at the password that comes printed on the router, typed it into her phone, and it connected. My mom swears I should go into tech support. Despite being technologically inept, though, she sadly knows how to use Facebook. I am not on Facebook. Daily she'd send me Facebook links to gluten-free recipes and warnings about cancer in every product I use.
I would respond daily, "I am not on Facebook and cannot view the link." Her solution was ridiculous. She would screenshot the articles, take her phone to Walgreens, have the photo center people get the pictures off her phone, print them, and she'd then physically mail them to me. I have received over one hundred 4x6 screenshots of spam since December.
Speaking of Facebook, she believes everything. It's sad and annoying, but occasionally hilarious. My favorite was when she excitedly told me that this Halloween is the first in 666 years to fall on Friday the 13th.
This server at the restaurant I work at apparently took a customer’s credit card info while checking them out. He then goes on shopping spree with it , pending close to $7,000 in a matter of a few days. He wasn’t just using it on online purchases but somehow even used it at places like jewelry stores where there are no shortage of surveillance cameras.
I don’t know how he thought he could get could away with any of that. What truly makes this a great story is how they busted him. Once the owner of the card notified authorities, officers went to one of the jewelry stores where he bought a $600 gold necklace and had them call they guy to come back him for some reason. Not sure how they convinced him to return but he did.
Sure enough, he walked right back into the store with officers just waiting for him. Last I checked, he’s being charged with around seven felonies, and he had priors. I doubt he will see the outside of cell for a long time.
This was related to me by a co-worker. This is at a casino coffee shop that also serves soft-serve ice cream and makes ice cream sundaes. On the condiment bar, there's a large glass bottle with honey syrup in it for adding to your tea or whatever, along with cream, sugar, etc. It's in an old Torani syrup bottle with a stopper/pourer thing and clearly liquid.
It's a honey/water mixture, like a non-alcoholic mead. Family of idiots come in and order three sundaes, all different. They each grab the honey syrup container and just dump it on their ice cream sundaes. Like, all over the sundaes. And the counter. They each take a bite of the sundaes and come up the order counter and complain that they're too sweet.
They want a refund or new sundaes. This is about $16-$22 worth of ice cream depending on what they got. The refund or free sundaes are denied since they did this to their own ice cream. They buy all new sundaes, walk over to the condiment counter, and add honey syrup again, but this time not as much.
My sister turned 21 today so I have been mulling over some of her more extreme stupid moments while writing a speech for her party. This is one of my faves: About three years ago my brother was about to move to New York (we live in Western Australia). My sister came up to him with a grave look on her face and asked if he was going to “Gunpoint.”
He was confused and asked to her clarify. She said that she didn’t think he should go there. My brother asked her if she thought “Gunpoint” was an actual place and she responded that she thought it was a place in NYC and it didn’t sound very safe because people were always getting "held up at “Gunpoint.”
The woman I work with is a lovely lady, but a bit clueless. In addition to that, she refuses to take hints. As an example, she became a huge fan of the show The Expanse and she tried every day to make me watch it. I told her over and over that my husband had watched it, and I'd glanced at a few episodes over his shoulder, but, while I could see that it was an amazing show, it just wasn't my cup of tea.
That didn't work. She still kept trying to make me watch it. Finally, in some desperation, I said "If you want to talk about the show with other people, have you tried Reddit?" She'd never heard of Reddit, so I explained, "There are discussion threads for every topic you can possibly name. I guarantee there will be some about The Expanse." She seemed interested and said she'd check it out.
Fast-forward a couple of months. She and I were discussing some random topic, and I said "I saw a post about it on Reddit." She got a very weird look on her face and said accusingly, "What were you doing on Reddit?" Puzzled, I said, "Why shouldn't I be?" She said angrily "Oh, gee, I don't know—because you're married?" Now I was even more puzzled and asked, "What's that got to do with it?".
She looked a little less certain and said "Well, it's a dating site, isn't it?" Turned out that she'd completely forgotten our previous conversation and had Reddit confused with Tinder.
This happened way back in high school. Senior year government class. I had grown up with this girl. She was your classic dumb blonde cheerleader type. We all expected dumb things to come from her. But usually they were good natured and an attempt was made. But I’ll never forget this one time. We're learning about the different government entities and we get to NASA.
The teacher asks "who knows what it stands for?" and most people get it wrong but are very close ("National Air and Space Association" is what I hear the most). But this girl, to the surprise of everyone, raises her hand so fiercely. And she's like "I know this!" This is a girl who thought the American Revolution happened in 1900…But we're all very interested to know what she's going to say.
The teacher is taken aback that she might know this too. But he's like "please, share with the class!" Because he really wants her to do well. So, with so much pride she sits up and goes "NASA stands for NATIONAL AUTO PARTS OF AMERICA!" To say the class laughed was an understatement. The teacher laughed so hard he had tears in his eyes.
He wasn't trying to be mean but was caught off guard. She rolled with it because her making dumb statements was the norm. This has stuck with me for almost 20 years and still makes me smile.
This happened just the other day...Two middle-aged women come up to my counter and order their drinks. After ringing them up I tell them their total and they tell me that they're going to wait for their friend to pay. Perfectly fine, I tell them their drinks will be waiting for them when they're ready. I finish making their order pretty quick and place their drinks by the register.
Five minutes pass and they come up asking if their drinks are done yet. I said yes, just been waiting for them to pay and they proceed to FLIP OUT saying how they were just planning on coming back and paying with their friend. So essentially they wanted me to give them free drinks and trust that they'd come back to pay. I do not think so, crazy eye patch lady and co. I do not think so.
I used to teach karate, and one day, a lady came in looking to do a birthday party at her own home. She wanted to buy some black belts from us for her kid and their friends. I would have no problem selling her belts for home use, except we didn’t stock any of that stuff except for when we needed them for tests and promotions.
I kindly declined and explained to her she could go and find them on a specific website online if she wanted them. I also explained that most schools won’t sell them because of the hard work and dedication students put into obtaining them. I thought she would leave after that, but she just wouldn't quit. She pointed at my belt, which was grimy and worn out, and said, “Well, what about yours? Can I just buy that one?”
As if I was going to give her the thing I had been using every day for ten years.
I used to work at a restaurant that was quite popular with the organic/healthy lifestyle crowd. This particular lady asked me if we tested our water for ionizing radiation, making it clear that if we didn't, she would leave. Out of sinister curiosity, I told her, "Of course, we do. In fact, I'll test it right in front of you; just let me get my Geiger counter from the back".
My plan was brilliant—I downloaded a mock Geiger counter app and tested one glass of tap water in front of her. She completely bought it and proceeded to order a fruit salad and a water bottle. I told the manager, and we had a good laugh. I still can't believe I got away with it.
I work a pet grooming shop, and a client just called for the price of a bath and nails. I ask what kind of dog. She says, "I don't know what it is now, but when it grows up, it's going to be a black Lab." I was dumbfounded, literally. I ask her how old it was. She said it was three months, so I'm thinking maybe 20 pounds max, so I tell her maybe $20-$25.
I swear to God, the lady brings "Red" in, and he is a POMERANIAN, a POM. I said, sorry but this is a Pomeranian, and she tells me, "Well, I know it's going to be a black Lab because I have papers at home." I pulled up pictures of Labs and Poms on the computer and I still think she believes it's going to be a black Lab. I'm going home to drink.
When we were all younger and dumber, one of my closest friends married the craziest man I've ever met. Let’s call him Kevin. My friend had just come off of a very bad relationship that she'd been certain was going to end in marriage, when in reality the guy was cheating on her while using her to support his wannabe pro-golfer existence. He then dumped her when someone with more money came along.
So she was in a bad place. A few months later, Kevin appears. The first time I met Kevin was when the two of them showed up at my apartment to announce their engagement. Since I'd met the previous guy that she was "seriously" dating just a month before, I know they couldn't have been seeing each other very long. Turns out, Kevin proposed five weeks after their first date.
Maybe she was a bit of an idiot for saying yes at that point, but like I said, bad place. It's hard for me to accurately describe Kevin without dipping into being mean. Because I never liked him from that first meeting. It was like he really wanted to be one of those hyper-masculine manly men , but didn't quite know how. He liked to take any opportunity to bring up in conversation that he was a black belt.
I remember the first time he said it because I asked, "Oh, yeah, in what?" And he looked at me like I was an idiot. "In martial arts." Oh. Right. Of course. He also would talk, at length, about how much he worked out (turns out, he didn't actually work out at all). Welp, it only went downhill from there. He liked to think of himself as a car guy, because he had a sports car he couldn't afford and treated it like his baby.
He didn't actually know anything about cars, but he had one. So, car guy. But the thing that really got up my nose about the guy was that he prided himself on how very smart he was. He'd make the most outrageous claims with the most pigheaded certainty. He just knew these things were true, and if you disagreed, even if you showed actual physical proof that he was wrong, he'd just condescendingly tell you that you didn't understand these things like he did and go on with his idiocy.
Just as an example, he once declared that you can't break the law at night. What exactly does that mean? We still don't know. He wouldn't elaborate. As a second example, he had trouble getting a fire going in their fireplace when he was home alone one day. His solution was a total disaster. Mix up some homemade napalm from a recipe he found on the internet. It set the kitchen on fire.
Luckily my friend arrived home in time to grab the fire extinguisher. Yet he insisted doggedly that he knew what he was doing, and really this was the best way to get the fireplace going, and obviously she just didn't understand because she didn't know as much about this stuff as he did. There’s one last important thing to know about Kevin before we get 'round to the divorce I promised.
Kevin was a religious nut. I don't mean he was crazy because he was religious. I've known many wonderful, intelligent religious people in my lifetime. Kevin was a crazy person who used religion as his MO. He would randomly proclaim, "The Bible says..." to support whatever other crazy thing he'd said. Most people let him get away with it, because heck the Bible is really long and says a lot of crazy stuff.
Who could say that, somewhere in there, it didn't actually say whatever insane thing he was claiming? And besides, who wants to confront crazy? Even when the claim was something insane like, "The Bible says that birds are of the devil." (Yes, this is a thing he said one day when he was angry at birds for some reason). I was raised going to church twice a week, once upon a time.
So I knew a bit about that particular book, and I had a pathological need when I was younger to call people on their lies. So we often butted heads. Unsurprisingly, when confronted, Kevin could never actually tell you where in the Bible it said you shouldn't take the first slice of pizza (yep, he said that too), but it didn't decrease his certainty that it was in there.
So, as anyone but the two of them could have predicted, the marriage didn't last. Only, it was so much darker than we knew. He became increasingly erratic, forbidding her from speaking to friends, including me, because, "the Bible says so." Hitting her, because the Bible says she has to do whatever he says and that he's allowed to beat her if she doesn't, stuff like that.
So she left…and here is where the wackiest stuff begins. She gets a lawyer to initiate divorce proceedings, and the first thing that comes up is the house. They bought the house from his parents. More precisely, she bought the house from his parents. He had terrible credit. As a result, his name wasn't on anything related to the house. He also had no job.
Meaning he'd never made a single payment on the house. As far as she saw it, the house was hers. His mother, who came into town to support her son through his misfortune, didn't see it that way. Their reaction was completely cruel and unhinged. They declared that the house still belonged to the mother and threw all of my friend's stuff out on the lawn.
Friend's lawyer gets a preliminary hearing date set up, to determine the initial dispersion of important stuff like the house, at least until the divorce proceedings get all sorted. So Friend's lawyer says to Kevin, have your lawyer contact me to set up a meeting before the hearing. A meeting is set up, and who arrives at the lawyer’s office but Kevin, dressed in jeans and a windbreaker, claiming to be, "Mr. Steele, the lawyer."
I kid you not. He decided he'd be his own lawyer and he'd call himself Mr. Steele (not his name). I don't know how the initial meeting went, but when the time for the hearing came, Kevin was once again acting as his own attorney. This time I can only assume he wasn't working under a pseudonym. Keep in mind, the rest of this is totally going off of her story to me immediately after the hearing.
Kevin and his mother arrive 20 minutes late, not at all dressed for court, casual jeans and shirts. The first thing he says when he walks in is, "Can I approach the bench?" "Why?" The judge asks. "Because I have some receipts." So Friend gets called to the stand. Her lawyer asks a bunch of questions illustrating just how crazy Kevin is and how bad things had gotten and about the house and stuff.
Then Kevin, since he's the lawyer, gets to cross-examine. His first question. "Is it not true that you were beaten as a child?" Her lawyer, "Objection." The judge, "Sustained." The question had nothing to do with anything. Other questions included, "Is it not true that you were seeing a psychiatrist and on medication for depression?" "No. It's not true."
She'd never seen a mental health professional. Not sure if he thought he might trick her into lying on that one or if he was so crazy that he actually thought it was true. But he was his own worst enemy. He asked a bunch of other ridiculous questions, which her lawyer let him ask because they were completely out of nowhere and just helped prove to the judge how nuts he was.
Then he takes the stand. Her lawyer gets him to admit to pretty much everything they said he did, because it was all true, but he refuses to give specific answers to some of the more serious questions. Not no. Just doesn't want to give specifics. Then he gets to make a statement. His statement is how he doesn't want a divorce and also she was abusive to him, such as "peenching" him once when they were on the highway.
Also, the Bible says that she's his wife. So she has to do whatever he wants, and that divorce is bad. How can the judge make them get a divorce when the Bible says not to? Apparently he went on in this vein for a while. She just gave me a couple of the highlights. Needless to say, the initial hearing did not go his way. She ended up getting the house in the short term and a protective order against him after he admitted in court to his mistreatment of her ("the Bible says it's ok, though!").
After this he dragged his feet at every point of the process. For more than six months, he wouldn't show up to things or would refuse to sign things until the last possible moment. He moved to a different city and apparently joined the Army reserve. This was also a big problem. When Friend found out about this, her lawyer contacted someone there to point out that he wasn't allowed to be around sharp objects or something like that, because of the protective order.
The lawyer even contacted him and offered to drop the protective order so he could stay in if he'd just agree to finish the divorce proceedings in a timely manner. Kevin refused. In the end, he got pretty much nothing and quietly disappeared.
I worked for Apple for five years at the Genius Bar. One day, a woman came in with a brand new Apple TV and said, "It's not working". She handed me the Apple TV, and I placed it on the bar. Before asking basic troubleshooting questions, I simply wanted to know if she had brought her HDMI and power cords with her; otherwise, I would have to get ours to plug it in.
I asked, "Did you bring your cables?" Her response had me dying of laughter inside. "What are you talking about? It's wireless." She thought the TV literally had no wires and thus didn't plug in the power cable or HDMI.
I used to work for an authorized Apple retailer. One day, this old woman, probably in her late 70s or 80s, came in to ask why her phone was acting up. It was a 4 GB iPhone 4 that had no storage left. She did not understand her smartphone and the upgrades that would be required. I did my best to explain that she would need to upgrade to a device with more storage so it would work the way she wanted.
I told her she could keep all of the pictures of her family; all she would have to do was transfer them through the iCloud system over the internet. That’s when she asked the golden question: “What’s the internet?” At that moment, she had tears running down her face as she genuinely did not understand a thing I had explained.
I had to take my lunch break, so I handed her off to my store manager to take over. When I clocked back in, she was still in the store. This time, at the checkout counter, with her brand new phone that my manager had sold her to meet a monthly sales quota. I’m sure he never told her what the internet was.
I had been working nonstop and hadn’t seen my friend for a while. We were finally able to meet up for lunch. When I saw her, she said to me, "I never see you. I miss you". I explained to her that I had been working a lot and that I had recently worked nine days straight. She seemed confused and asked me, "HOW? THERE ARE ONLY SEVEN DAYS IN A WEEK".
During a foreign language class, we were learning the names of different countries. Suddenly, someone stopped the lecture and asked the dumbest question known to man: They asked why the language we were learning made up names for different countries. They said, “Why can't we just use the real names like Germany, Japan, etc”? There was total silence in the classroom.
Then, we spent 10 minutes of the entire class time trying to get this person to understand that “Germany” is not the name of Germany in German. We had to explain to them that all the country names we know are all English "made up" names for those countries. They did not comprehend this concept. It confounds me to this day, especially since that person was not from an English-speaking country to begin with.
My friend’s boyfriend was a restaurant server. One day, he actually asked, "What is roast beef made of anyway"? I couldn’t believe he was for real. I told him, "It's beef—roasted". He was shocked. He got a surprised look on his face, and then he laughed at himself. Needless to say, he wasn't the brightest person around.
My brother and his girlfriend had broken up, but I didn’t know yet. My mother was trying to inform me but did so in a rather odd manner. She said, "Oh, by the way, your brother’s girlfriend is no longer with us". I thought she had passed, so I called my brother to offer my condolences and ask about the wake and funeral arrangements. He was completely baffled.
He told me, "She's perfectly alive; we just broke up. What are you talking about"?
Austrian here. My sister used to take in couch surfers from all across the world. Most were lovely fellas with interesting stories to tell. But one time, we hit the jackpot. We got a set of four American stereotypes. The ones that I used to think were only real in movies. One of them was an air-headed cheerleader who was one heck a pain in the behind.
Since they're not relevant to the story, I won't go into detail about how rude and obnoxious this girl behaved during the days leading up to the event, but let me tell you, at this point, even her friends were done with her. Anyway, it's New Year's Eve and the couch surfers decide to stay with us instead of going out into the city. My sister and I go about our New Year's celebration the same way we always do.
We’re having fondue, dancing to "The Blue Danube" and watching Dinner for One. Midnight comes and goes and within less than five minutes, the cheerleader takes her laptop to the other room to video call her parents, leaving the door open. The words that came out of her mouth made my jaw drop. She starts complaining loudly about how my sister and I are "embarrassing."
She also talks about how "that Austrian food we had suuuucked" (as much as I would love to claim fondue for our cuisine, the French would likely be opposed), how "the mountains looked fake" and whatnot. My sister and I were in the living room with the others, perfectly able to hear every single word while her friends turned red as tomatoes and started giving us apologetic looks.
Cue her return, marching into the living room with the carefree attitude. Her friend: “Uhmm...we heard you. All of us." Her: "Sooo whaaat? I was talking Americaaaaan." My sister and I just looked at each other and started laughing so hard, it took us a few minutes to calm down. She had been talking to us every single day in English, but somehow that was different in her world.
Her friends apologized profusely, but the cheerleader did not because she just couldn't believe (even when we told her) that, yes, we do understand "American."
In my freshman year of college, a biology professor started his semester with a speech saying science is how we explain everything in the modern world through experiments and peer review. The girl next to me had a smug look on her face and said, "If science can explain everything, then why are people still doing experiments? Can't science just explain it? I mean, just read a book".
It took me a while to realize her wisdom, and then it took me even longer to hold back my laughter.
One of my college roommates wandered in while we were watching JAWS. We were down to the final 15 minutes where the shark was tearing the Orca apart. Then the scene where the shark heaved itself up on the stern came on. What happened next was legendary. My roommate said, “It’s pretty neat how they trained that shark to do that”. He was totally serious.
I worked in the seafood department for a large supermarket chain. One day, a woman came and asked to buy some frozen shrimp from the pre-packaged bag. However, she didn't want the entire bag, just half of it. I was ready to open the bag when she made an outrageous request—she said that she wanted me to remove the weight and cost of the ice crystals on the shrimp.
I just looked at her and asked if she wanted me to wash it off, to which she said no because she wanted it to stay frozen. The ice probably weighed less than the plastic bag we used. Needless to say, she turned away when I said I wasn’t able to do that for her. I still think that was the most ridiculous interaction I have ever had with a customer.
I had a potential client ask me to completely block out the sun. It was for an experiential pop-up that coincided with the big eclipse we were going to have. He had sold the idea that it could be done to his client. He was surprised to hear our response...which was that we would have to launch something the size of the moon into orbit to actually achieve what he was asking for.
In college, I worked for one of those overpriced playground equipment companies. The kind that sells 100% California redwood, strong enough to hold an entire football team, has probably 10 or 20 different base models, and is totally modular. You can buy accessories and upgrade them as your kids get older. It wasn’t a great job, but I learned a lot about people.
This one woman was the absolute worst helicopter mom I had ever encountered in my life. As her kids were walking around the showroom, she would gasp as if ghosts were popping out of the walls if they got within two feet of the playsets—if they paused, GASP! If they stumbled, GASP! I'm not even sure how we managed to sell her a $5K–$8K playset.
Her behavior got even worse after it got delivered. She called us and raised a stink, demanding to know how the kids were supposed to go down the slides. The structural arm rail was there, so I was confused. She SWORE, gasping every two seconds, that they had to lay down and cross their arms like a water slide. I made my boss deal with that one. At 19 years old, I didn't know how to tell someone how to use a slide.
I used to work in the returns department of a large computer shop. I once got a laptop return from a seriously irate customer complaining that the CD drawer was not opening. The customer was swearing at me up and down on the phone. His words were intentionally sharp and laced: “Get it sorted. It’s unacceptable for a brand new laptop, etc.”
When I got around to having a look at it, I noticed that the CD drawer wouldn't open because–GET THIS—it didn't have a drawer. It was a slot drive. The customer could have taken a second to look and realize this instead of going through the three-week return process. I took great pleasure in writing a Return To Sender report stating just that very bluntly.
I worked at a retail store. A lady was trying on a boot, and I watched her keep shoving her foot in the side of the boot where there was a small zipper. Her reaction was priceless—she kept yelling that the boot didn't fit her calf and that it fit funny. I walked over and told her her foot goes through the top of the boot, and the zipper was there to give her room as she pulled the boot up.
I don't remember what she said, but she was genuinely confused. I just set the boot down and walked away slowly.
I used to work at Disneyland in the outdoor vending department. I sold balloons, ice cream, etc. I would get a lot of dumb questions, but one took the cake. I was working on Main Street at a cart in between Adventureland and Frontierland. A woman came up with her family, and she asked me the most baffling question ever: “Are we in the castle?” I was a little confused because the castle was in plain view on our left.
I just said, “No, it’s right there,” and I pointed. She asked me one more time. She thought when you entered Disneyland, you were automatically inside a castle. Even her younger daughter said, “See, I told you we weren’t in the castle yet.” It completely blew my mind.
My job had 50% off sales fairly regularly. I had one particular customer who stood out. This woman was middle-aged, dressed very well, and looked like she either had done very well for herself or married into money. For the better part of an hour, she proceeded to ask how much 50% off would come for each and every item she looked at.
“What is half of $20? What would half of $50 be? How much is $24.50 after the sale? Could you check to see what half of $60 is? How much is this?” The worst part? She did this for every item she touched. I was getting a little frustrated and began giving her short answers. After checking out, her total was about $180. She asked how much she had saved. I calmly told her, "About as much as you paid".
I used to work in a recording studio as an engineer. One day, I got a call from an aspiring local rapper who wanted to work on vocals for a few tracks. I was happy to take on the project as it would be a day of relatively easy and fun work. He would cut the beats elsewhere, and I asked him to bring the files along. The guy showed up at the studio where I had the vocal room set up—and I was in for quite a surprise.
I said, "OK! This is going to be great. Let me have a listen to your beats so we can record you over them". He looked at me, puzzled, and said, “They're on his YouTube page.” He didn’t understand that we couldn’t record vocals in the studio directly onto YouTube.
I was going to a gynecologist and had an ultrasound done. The ultrasound found a mass on my ovary. When I was getting my results, the lady on the phone told me, "We are a gynecological office. We specialize in ovaries, fallopian tubes, and the uterus. You have a mass on your ovary. We can't help you. Go see your primary care physician".
Then the gynecologist told me that the discharge, pelvic pain, and burning I had was "normal". Needless to say, I changed gynecologists. That first gynecologist was an idiot.
My sister had very severe dyslexia. Once, she asked me how to spell USB. I was dumbfounded and thought she was joking. She asked again, “How do you spell USB”. I was like, “Yeah ok, it's literally spelled USB, as you say it”. She freaked out and told me not to poke fun at her for her dyslexia and to tell her how to actually spell it. I started laughing and wrote it down on a piece of paper. I will never forget the look on her face when she realized it.
My ex-wife and I had a one-hour-long argument because she was insisting that 10:30 AM was in the afternoon. It all started with her saying, "We need to go at 10:30". I told her, "I thought you said it wasn't until the afternoon"? She relented, "It is in the afternoon. 10:30. You know, later on". I told her that afternoon doesn’t mean, later on, it means afternoon.
That was when the arguing ensued. I still think about it all the time.
A woman from North Dakota called a radio station to ask for their help. She had spent two years writing letters and attempting to get the deer crossing sign removed from a high traffic area to a safer place. She assumed that the deer were looking for the deer crossings in the same way people use the pedestrian crossings. The sign was there because deer commonly cross there, not because the animals are abiding by human traffic laws and are looking for a place to cross the road.
I once had a co-worker tell me that he wanted to eventually take some time off of work so that he could drive down to Africa and see the lions. However, we lived in the United States. For whatever reason, he forgot that South America existed below North America and that Africa was not connected to us in any way, shape, or form.
Back in the 1990s, I went into a store in Canada—where I lived—with a $100 American bill. I bought a bottle of vino for about $13. When the woman working the register worked out the exchange rate, which was about 13%, she said, “Oh, you get $100 back.” She then proceeded to hand back the American $100 bill to me and said, “Funny how that works.” I took it and left snickering.
My dad was a violinist in The Cleveland Orchestra. Years ago, they were on tour in East Germany. He was on a train talking to one of the other violinists. He mentioned how crazy it was that after all these years, there were still shelled-out buildings that hadn't been torn down or dealt with since WWII. Then, the stereotypical blonde chimed in.
She said, "Wait, wasn't Germany our ally in the war"? It was one of the stupidest things I've ever heard and I wasn't even there.
I had a friend who once said to me, "I've always wondered how goats grow into deer in the wild but stay goats at the farm". I was completely baffled. Shocked, I said, “What on earth”? They said, "I know, crazy, right? With ponies at least you can see them grow into horses but the goats"?? Someone obviously didn’t know much about animals.
When I was in high school and in Grade 11, I was taking a law class. The teacher was talking about different bills that the government had implemented throughout history, such as the Bill of Rights. Thirty minutes into the lesson, the girl next to me raised her hand and asked the teacher, “Who’s this bill guy we’ve been talking about”?
The whole class burst out laughing, and the teacher was struggling to keep it together as well.
A very grumpy high-society woman came to the store saying her brand new 3,000-dollar Microsoft surface bought by her husband was defective because she could not get internet when she was on the move. I quickly realized she was talking about Wi-Fi, so I tried explaining to her how Wi-Fi actually works. Boy, was that a mistake!
I told her that she could not use her Wi-Fi outside her house, but that she could share her smartphone internet connection. She would have none of it. She said I was lying to her and making fun of her. She even asked to speak to my manager, who then proceeded to tell her the exact same thing, almost to the word. She left screaming.
I had a high school friend, Sam, who wasn't…the brightest crayon in the box. Last I saw him, he was living with his addict girlfriend, who's pregnant with his child. Or, so that's what I thought. I haven't spoken much to him since he had gotten expelled from school, and our relationship faded into only Facebook updates on each other's lives.
The other day, I was speaking to a friend, who we'll call Sara, that still keeps in contact with Sam. He got brought up in conversation, mostly laughing about the ridiculous things he did in school, and then I asked about what he was up to. Now, back in high school, Sam vowed himself to celibacy. He didn't want to be intimate before marriage. Also, despite how strung out his current girlfriend is, the only drug he ever used was pot.
Sara: “You know the baby's not even his.” Me: “Wait, seriously?” Sara: “Yeah, he's a virgin.” Me: (confused because he posts on Facebook all the time of how happy he is about becoming a father) “Does…does he know?” Sara: (shaking her head) “Nope. He legitimately thinks he got her pregnant.” Sara let me have a moment, just to see the astonishment on my face.
She went on to tell me that when Sam first told her his girlfriend was pregnant, she asked him when did he start being intimate. Sam said he never did, however, they do perform oral. Sam believes that when his girlfriend…swallowed…it impregnated her with his child. Sara and a few others tried to explain to him that's not how it works, but he's either just lovestruck or just plain stupid.
There has been speculation that the true father is a guy who graduated a few years before us. He is Black. Sam is white. His girlfriend is white. She's about four months pregnant.
Registered nurse here. I see some crazy stuff, but one thing that stands out was the time I was admitting a guy to the hospital. I can't really remember what for but he was diabetic, had heart disease, and was generally unhealthy. Anyhow, I'm at the computer going over some admission questions with him and his 10 family members who are crowded in the room with him.
A few minutes in, he starts complaining that he's thirsty. He needs something to drink right now. So I get on my phone and call the nurse assistant, and ask her to bring in some ice water. As soon as the words are out of my mouth the whole family screams: "NOOOO! NO WATER! HES ALLERGIC TO WATER!" Well, this is going to be a problem.
Turns out the guy had been drinking nothing but Sprite and sweet tea for years, because of his "water allergy." The next question his wife had was “Where are we all supposed to sleep?" The whole family, 10 people, were planning to stay at the hospital with him. You can't make this stuff up.
There was a troubled kid I went to high school with. He struggled with school but had friends. Nevertheless, he was starting to get addicted and go down a bad way. He decided to photocopy the front and backside of a $20 bill, cut it out of normal paper, and glue the two halves with Elmer’s glue.
What is even sadder is that to test his new money he went to the gas station and bought some gum and it ACTUALLY WORKED?!? So in his mind, it must have meant that it was foolproof. So he then tried to go and deposit the glued-up money at an actual bank. He was obviously found out and busted. I don’t know where he is now but I’m assuming he is making similar life choices.
A few weeks ago, I had to explain to my wife that the letters on her license plate were part of her “license plate number.” She got a ticket at her university for parking without payment. The payment kiosk makes you enter your license plate number when paying for a day of visitor parking. She was ranting and raving about what bullcrap it was, so I asked her to show me the receipt she got when she paid for parking.
Sure enough, she had just entered the numbers and not the letters. I don’t know how she made it into her mid-30s before learning this.
My patient was a three-year-old who needed surgery on her tonsils and adenoids. The day before the procedure, I told her father, "Don't let her eat or drink anything after midnight”. While I was intubating the girl the next morning, she vomited scrambled eggs, causing her to aspirate them into her lungs. Then her heart stopped.
I did chest compressions on her for 25 minutes. We got her back, aborted the surgery, and transferred her to the pediatric ICU on a ventilator. Her father's response made me want to scream: "She said she was hungry. I thought you were being too hard on her. It must have been something you did to her". Sure, blame me for your inability to follow a simple direction. Idiot.
I asked my boyfriend if he wanted an apple. He said yes, so I pulled one out of the fridge and handed it to him. He looked confused. I asked him what was wrong…his answer still blows me away to this day. He asked me to slice it for him. He'd never eaten an apple whole before. He wasn't sure how to bite into it. He was 27.
My mom never told me how her best friend died. Years later, I was using her phone when I made an utterly chilling discovery.
Madame de Pompadour was the alluring chief mistress of King Louis XV, but few people know her dark history—or the chilling secret shared by her and Louis.
I tried to get my ex-wife served with divorce papers. I knew that she was going to take it badly, but I had no idea about the insane lengths she would go to just to get revenge and mess with my life.
Catherine of Aragon is now infamous as King Henry VIII’s rejected queen—but few people know her even darker history.
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