When I worked at the gas station, I cringed anyone bought a Polar Wave. For those not fortunate enough to have put in time at this gas station, Polar Wave was essentially an expensive slushy that came in teeny-tiny cups. It was $2 for a 10 oz plastic cup. Keep in mind; these cups look nothing like any of the other cups for sodas and coffees and such. You could only get a $2 PW if you got in the special cup. Otherwise, we charged you per ounce if you were illiterate enough to get it the ginormous soda cups.
We had lime green, hot pink, and neon orange signs surrounding the machine telling people this. Despite all of the warnings, people would still bring up 32 and 64 oz cups of the stuff and become outraged when I was charging them $6 or more for their 55 gallon drum of slushy. Of course, after they learned they had to pay that much, they often left the drink without paying. We had to dump out a lot Polar Wave due to this idiocy, because we obviously can't put it back in the machine.
Anyway, a customer and her 12 or 13 year old son come up to the counter with a 32oz Polar Wave and a pack of Pop Tarts, which were like $2 or some such.
"Oh, god, let me get this lady in and out of here before she realizes she's going to pay an arm and a leg for this shit," I thought to myself.
She hands me the stuff, and I give her the total. She pays, and as I think I've gotten through the transaction without a Polar Wave confrontation, she says, "How much were the Pop Tarts?"
Me: $2, ma'am.
Lady: So, you're telling me this drink is $6?
Me: Yes, it is.
Son: But, the sign says $2.
Me: Yes, but only if you get it in the clear Polar Wave cups attached to the machine.
Son: That's bullshit. It doesn't say that.
Lady: I'm not paying $6 for a drink.
Me: Well, you kind of have to. You already poured it, and he already drank out of it. I can't pour it back in the machine, and the mix is expensive. That's why it costs so much for the customers.
Meanwhile, 3 more adult relatives of these people come in to see what's taking so long. The mom tells them what I said, and the whole brood goes back to inspect the signs to tell if I'm lying about the sign. They stood there and stared at the signs like it was a Magic Eye or something for about 5 minutes. Satisfied with my truth-telling abilities, they all go to leave. The mom tells the kid to get the drink and come on.
He says, "You said we weren't paying for it, so I threw it away. Can I get this bottle of soda instead?"
Mom: "Um, no. You just wasted six bucks. Get your ass in the car."
The lady exits.
The boy turns to exit, and he puffs ups his chest like he's auditioning to play the starring role in a 50 Cent biography. He looks me straight in the eye the entire time as he walks out and says, and I quote,
"I'm gon' pee on the flo'."
What...the...fuck? You can't read 3 different signs; in response, you're going to urinate in my place of business in front of your friends, family, and strangers. Knock yourself out, gangsta.
gaming_librarianTurn your face to the sun...Registered Userregular
edited December 2007
Cytorak, your posts have infused this work day with the necessary dosage of ridiculousness and awesome. I applaud you, and require more of these hijinks involving senior women with voice modulation issues and r-tards what pee on 'da flo'.
One of the jobs I had a few years back was as a cashier for a gas station ministore. Overall it was mostly laid back but I got to witness some freaky shit mainly due to the fact that it was next to a major freeway offramp on the way to LA or to Vegas.
====== "Gas Station Bomb"
Now, Pomona is home to the LA County Fair and they like to have flea markets and random shows when the fair isn't up. There are week long auto shows and races at the Pomona Speedway as well so we got to see some sweet ass race cars and show cars. One occassion, a co-worker and I got to see this sweet ass '60something Cobra painted in a sexy baby blue and it pulled in to fill up AS LOUD AS POSSIBLE. I mean, even our inch thick bullet proof windows shook a bit. Everyone just stopped and dropped their jaws.
The door opens and this really tall guy with reflective glasses and a matching baby blue sport hat (think beret + baseball cap) and he walks in to the store. He comes up to me and asks for some Marlboros and for $50 in gas. I comply and he goes out to fill up. With every customer that purchases cigs, I tell them to not smoke near the gas pumps and he nods. He puts the nozzle in and leaves the gas going and walks off to the side to smoke away from the pumps. At this point I'm attending other customers and my co-worker is outside sweeping and helping some old lady fill up. My "HELP" thing lights up on my register and it appears that the Cobra dude is having a problem. I turn on my 2-way and ask him what's wrong. He tells me "Uhm, it seems my car is leaking fuel."
My co-worker and I do the usual thing of stopping the pump and dropping sand/kitty litter to absorbed the spilled gas. However, this wasn't a small puddle. This was covering pretty much everywhere in the station. As we're cleaning the dude is right behind us apologizing and everything....WHILE SMOKING! He eventually extinguishes his cig away from us and comes back. Then after we're done and sweeping away the stuff more gas starts to appear. We both look up and this idiot STILL PUMPING, refusing to leave without getting the gas he paid for. Eventually, after some talking, he stops. I refund the rest of his gas and all is well. I recommend he goes to a body shop to get it looked at but he insists on driving to the fairgrounds (about 2 miles away). He insists he made a mistake and that his tank isn't damaged and drives away...while smoking.
====== "Man, I already PAID you!"
Towards the end of my tenure, I started to work graveyard shift (10pm to 6am). The ministore is closed so I operate through a cashier window and can't let people in. Either way, even crazier stuff happened during this time.
I once witnessed a real gang fight. Around 2am, an Escalade comes up to a pump with rap music blaring at 10000 decibels and 4 guys hop out. One pays $20 for gas and they pump. All of a sudden I hear tires squeeling from around the corner and ANOTHER Escalade rolls around with another party crew playing rap music at 1000000 decibels. The come to a screeching stop near the pumps and 4 guys come out and run to the other group. All 4 do some stupid stare-down and fists start flying with kicks being limited because of how baggy their pants were. After 5 minutes of shitty, uncoordinated fighting the 2nd crew jumps back in and drives away at 80 mph. The first crew hops into their SUV and follows them, having left behind $19.70 worth of gas. Of course 2 minutes later, the COPs arrive.
About 10 minutes later, a shitty Camaro pulls up and some "wankster" stumbles up to my window. He's clearly stoned, drunk, and looks like he should be in rehab. He gets super close to the window and this exchange:
"DUDE CAN I HAVE SOME NACHOS!?!?"
"Sorry, we don't have nachos. I can sell you some chips though."
"AW COME ON BRO, PLEASE?!"
"Sorry, don't have any nachos. What kind of chips you like?"
"OH...UHM...OH SHIT YEAH GIMME SOME CHEETOHS...SOME OF THEM HOT FRIES!"
"Sure, it'll be $0.99"
"DUDE I JUST PAID YOU!"
*checks the pay tray and the larger one below it*
"Uh, I don't see any money in the tray."
"MAN I GAVE IT TO YOU AND YOU PUT IT IN THE REGISTER!"
*checks register 'recent transactions'*
"Nope, I don't have it."
"DUDE YOU'RE LIKE TOTALLY ROBBING ME!"
"Why would I rob $0.99?"
"MAN ASIUDYGQW&GEKJ!BOIC..." walks into his car and pulls out an empty beer bottle.
He then throws this bottle directly at the 1inch thick plastic bullet proof window. Weird physics kicks in and rather than shatter the bottle, bounces at a high angle and drops down hard on the guy's head. He's on the walkway in front of my window holding his head screaming in pain. He then stands up...
"Bro...could...could I have a Band-Aid?"
I give him 2 through the tray and he gets in his car to apply them then drives off.
He then throws this bottle directly at the 1inch thick plastic bullet proof window. Weird physics kicks in and rather than shatter the bottle, bounces at a high angle and drops down hard on the guy's head. He's on the walkway in front of my window holding his head screaming in pain. He then stands up...
"Bro...could...could I have a Band-Aid?"
I give him 2 through the tray and he gets in his car to apply them then drives off.
That is hilariously awesome.
I hope you charged him for the band-aids though
'Can I have a band-aid?'
'That'll be 99 cents please.'
Hard objects taking strange bounces are the worst.
In high school, we'd just got out of a movie and we were standing outside the mall, right beside it on the side walk. I had Gobstoppers (hard candy) and decided I wanted to see if I could throw one of them on top of the mall from that angle (about 6 feet from the wall that went up probably 3-4 stories). I threw it as hard as I could basically straight up and immediately lost sight of where it was going. Frustrated, I started looking around to try to see if it would hit the ground. What seemed like way too long went by and just as I decided to give up on looking for, stabbing pain throughout my skull. It had come back down and hit me right on the top of the head. It put me in eye-clinching pain for a few seconds. My friends were amused.
A guy I know at work had a girlfriend who moved several hours away to live at home for a little while. It's my understanding that they mutually broke up because they didn't want to have to keep up a long-distance relationship. This is a while back.
The other day, he's at happy hour for his birthday. I'm there for a little while but have to leave early. He's brought along this girl, let's say Girl A, who knows his ex, and Girl B, who's really good friends with his ex. He's decided to see where things go with Girl A, and has been for a little while. So he's having a good time dealing with that, getting rip-roaringly drunk, when Girl B springs a surprise. His ex sits down at the table, flown in from several states away, for his birthday.
When I heard the story second-hand the next day, I couldn't stop laughing. And apparently, Girl A took the cue to leave a little early instead of driving him home that night. :P
Hard objects taking strange bounces are the worst.
In high school, we'd just got out of a movie and we were standing outside the mall, right beside it on the side walk. I had Gobstoppers (hard candy) and decided I wanted to see if I could throw one of them on top of the mall from that angle (about 6 feet from the wall that went up probably 3-4 stories). I threw it as hard as I could basically straight up and immediately lost sight of where it was going. Frustrated, I started looking around to try to see if it would hit the ground. What seemed like way too long went by and just as I decided to give up on looking for, stabbing pain throughout my skull. It had come back down and hit me right on the top of the head. It put me in eye-clinching pain for a few seconds. My friends were amused.
As they should be.
One day, in maybe my freshman year of high school, Me and a couple friends were at the apartment complex's recreation area. Basically an extra apartment with games and crap. One room was empty as they were going to be bringing in a Foosball table, but this room had a ceiling fan. That in itself isn't bad, but we also had bouncy balls.
Within minutes the fan was going full speed and we would lay down under it and throw the balls up into the fan and watch as they were shot into the wall and bounced around. It was all fun and games until we had the bright idea to stand up and fucking dodge the balls as they flew off the fan and bounced back at our heads. Within seconds we were all back on the floor, but instead of laughing maniacally, we were writhing in pain.
In college, I had this Writing class that had one-on-one meetings with the instructor outdoors under some big ass trees. I was having my one on one meeting with him and we were going over one of my drafts and I think I had asked him something about my references and as he opened his mouth to say something a big ass fig leaf at full speed flew into his mouth.
In college, I had this Writing class that had one-on-one meetings with the instructor outdoors under some big ass trees. I was having my one on one meeting with him and we were going over one of my drafts and I think I had asked him something about my references and as he opened his mouth to say something a big ass fig leaf at full speed flew into his mouth.
Choking and laughing was had.
To be honest, I was disappointed. With the opening sentence I expected a pile of bird shit to land in his mouth. Maybe some squirrel shit, but definitely some kind of shit.
I went to this play a few weeks ago out in the middle of now where. My friends and I are walking back to the car. Mind you, this is New Hampshire, so it's about 13 degrees out and it's also alittle after 11 o'clock.
We had to park in a parking lot about a mile from the theater, so the long walk was had.
The parking lot was actually the back of a school, so it's kinda cool. We get all excited for no reason and start racing to the car.
My one friend, he's so fucking fast, races ahead. I try to do some stupid wall jump thing that makes me look retarded And the other two friends are girls so I feel really stupid). I then decide to run up and catch my friend. I'm running, running, yelling his name, 'where are you, haha'.
Then WHOOF. Next thing I know I'm tumbling through the air, winded and suddenly bleeding from the head.
Apparently he was around the building, where a parking gate was left unchained. He thought it'd be funny to swing it at us as we ran up, not expecting that I wouldn't see it coming. It nailed me in the stomach and I flipped over it, and scratched my forehead pretty bad on the ground with a decent SMACK sound too.
He immediately freaked out and started apologizing, but I was more concerned about where the blood was coming from.
Once we had determined I was fine, aside from scrapes on my head, we left.
Best part probably was going to McDonald's afterwards and ordering with blood streaks down the front of my face. The other customers looked horrified, which almost made it worth getting fucked up.
A few of us were at the pub yesterday. I'd had a couple and apparently I was drinking strangely, with the bottle on the side of my lips while I was just staring into the distance. My friend Ben commented on it and said the first two must've hit me pretty hard. I said "WTF are you talking about?" He said "Look at the way you're drinking that!" and then proceeded to imitate me as the entire table turned to observe the imitation. It was at that moment that his lips broke the seal on the bottle and he proceeded to pour beer all over himself.
In college, I had this Writing class that had one-on-one meetings with the instructor outdoors under some big ass trees. I was having my one on one meeting with him and we were going over one of my drafts and I think I had asked him something about my references and as he opened his mouth to say something a big ass fig leaf at full speed flew into his mouth.
Choking and laughing was had.
To be honest, I was disappointed. With the opening sentence I expected a pile of bird shit to land in his mouth. Maybe some squirrel shit, but definitely some kind of shit.
At the college I went to, we have a ton of oak trees, and a bunch of really spoiled squirrels with no fear of man. One of these squirrels is a hostile little bastard. He throws acorns at people. He will, with his little squirrel hands somehow chuck what should be his food supply at people a respectable (for a squirrel) distance away. My sister got hit by an acorn traveling at an angle too low to have been gravity and looks over at where it came from, and sees this squirrel looking at her making that angry chattering sound they do.
In college, I had this Writing class that had one-on-one meetings with the instructor outdoors under some big ass trees. I was having my one on one meeting with him and we were going over one of my drafts and I think I had asked him something about my references and as he opened his mouth to say something a big ass fig leaf at full speed flew into his mouth.
Choking and laughing was had.
To be honest, I was disappointed. With the opening sentence I expected a pile of bird shit to land in his mouth. Maybe some squirrel shit, but definitely some kind of shit.
At the college I went to, we have a ton of oak trees, and a bunch of really spoiled squirrels with no fear of man. One of these squirrels is a hostile little bastard. He throws acorns at people. He will, with his little squirrel hands somehow chuck what should be his food supply at people a respectable (for a squirrel) distance away. My sister got hit by an acorn traveling at an angle too low to have been gravity and looks over at where it came from, and sees this squirrel looking at her making that angry chattering sound they do.
And the adventures of Chip and Dale are born. Your sister wouldn't happen to be Donald Duck, would she?
In college, I had this Writing class that had one-on-one meetings with the instructor outdoors under some big ass trees. I was having my one on one meeting with him and we were going over one of my drafts and I think I had asked him something about my references and as he opened his mouth to say something a big ass fig leaf at full speed flew into his mouth.
Choking and laughing was had.
To be honest, I was disappointed. With the opening sentence I expected a pile of bird shit to land in his mouth. Maybe some squirrel shit, but definitely some kind of shit.
At the college I went to, we have a ton of oak trees, and a bunch of really spoiled squirrels with no fear of man. One of these squirrels is a hostile little bastard. He throws acorns at people. He will, with his little squirrel hands somehow chuck what should be his food supply at people a respectable (for a squirrel) distance away. My sister got hit by an acorn traveling at an angle too low to have been gravity and looks over at where it came from, and sees this squirrel looking at her making that angry chattering sound they do.
And the adventures of Chip and Dale are born. Your sister wouldn't happen to be Donald Duck, would she?
I know they are not squirrels, but I don't care
Who's got the sweetest disposition?
One guess, guess who.
Who'd never, never start an argument?
Who'd never show a bit of temperment?
Who's never wrong, but always right?
Who'd never dream of starting a fight?
Who gets stuck with all of that luck?
No one... *quackquackquackquack* but Donald Duck!
Is it sad that I have that memorized and playing in my head with the oldschool radiostyle chorus singing it?
I was out at lunch at the shopping center by my office. I was on the phone with a friend , walking on a path that was lined with 30 foot tall conifers. What I didn't notice was that there was a nest in one of them, and as I passed it- I was attacked by a bird for like 30 seconds. Needless to say, I freaked out.
My friend asked what the hell was going on. I had to explain, while swinging at this bird with my free hand, that I was under attack, and feared for my life.
I was out at lunch at the shopping center by my office. I was on the phone with a friend , walking on a path that was lined with 30 foot tall conifers. What I didn't notice was that there was a nest in one of them, and as I passed it- I was attacked by a bird for like 30 seconds. Needless to say, I freaked out.
My friend asked what the hell was going on. I had to explain, while swinging at this bird with my free hand, that I was under attack, and feared for my life.
She was amused.
This man speaks truth. I bet it was a mockingbird. Those things are territorial as all hell when they have babies. I was walking my dog once and got attacked by a mockingbird that lived across the street. Kind of freaked me out. That same day my sister was babysitting the kid who lived at the house the bird lived at. They went outside to play and the bird, which lived by the door started attacking them and the kid was scared to go back in the house because of the bird. So they had to play in our yard for a couple hours till they saw the bird leave to get food.
I was out at lunch at the shopping center by my office. I was on the phone with a friend , walking on a path that was lined with 30 foot tall conifers. What I didn't notice was that there was a nest in one of them, and as I passed it- I was attacked by a bird for like 30 seconds. Needless to say, I freaked out.
My friend asked what the hell was going on. I had to explain, while swinging at this bird with my free hand, that I was under attack, and feared for my life.
She was amused.
This man speaks truth. I bet it was a mockingbird. Those things are territorial as all hell when they have babies. I was walking my dog once and got attacked by a mockingbird that lived across the street. Kind of freaked me out. That same day my sister was babysitting the kid who lived at the house the bird lived at. They went outside to play and the bird, which lived by the door started attacking them and the kid was scared to go back in the house because of the bird. So they had to play in our yard for a couple hours till they saw the bird leave to get food.
But.... a mockingbird never hurt anybody. They just make the world more beautiful with their song!
In college, I had this Writing class that had one-on-one meetings with the instructor outdoors under some big ass trees. I was having my one on one meeting with him and we were going over one of my drafts and I think I had asked him something about my references and as he opened his mouth to say something a big ass fig leaf at full speed flew into his mouth.
Choking and laughing was had.
To be honest, I was disappointed. With the opening sentence I expected a pile of bird shit to land in his mouth. Maybe some squirrel shit, but definitely some kind of shit.
At the college I went to, we have a ton of oak trees, and a bunch of really spoiled squirrels with no fear of man. One of these squirrels is a hostile little bastard. He throws acorns at people. He will, with his little squirrel hands somehow chuck what should be his food supply at people a respectable (for a squirrel) distance away. My sister got hit by an acorn traveling at an angle too low to have been gravity and looks over at where it came from, and sees this squirrel looking at her making that angry chattering sound they do.
At least you don't have one living in your ceiling.
I have a small roof protruding from my building about 1-2' out my window (3rd floor). I look out there yesterday because of some noise figuring "Oh, its just the construction next door."
No, it's the fucking squirrel with a jar of peanut butter.
In college, I had this Writing class that had one-on-one meetings with the instructor outdoors under some big ass trees. I was having my one on one meeting with him and we were going over one of my drafts and I think I had asked him something about my references and as he opened his mouth to say something a big ass fig leaf at full speed flew into his mouth.
Choking and laughing was had.
To be honest, I was disappointed. With the opening sentence I expected a pile of bird shit to land in his mouth. Maybe some squirrel shit, but definitely some kind of shit.
At the college I went to, we have a ton of oak trees, and a bunch of really spoiled squirrels with no fear of man. One of these squirrels is a hostile little bastard. He throws acorns at people. He will, with his little squirrel hands somehow chuck what should be his food supply at people a respectable (for a squirrel) distance away. My sister got hit by an acorn traveling at an angle too low to have been gravity and looks over at where it came from, and sees this squirrel looking at her making that angry chattering sound they do.
At least you don't have one living in your ceiling.
I have a small roof protruding from my building about 1-2' out my window (3rd floor). I look out there yesterday because of some noise figuring "Oh, its just the construction next door."
No, it's the fucking squirrel with a jar of peanut butter.
On the 3rd floor
I have you beat. At one place I lived for a short amount of time, there was a hole in the wall that squirrels decided to make a nest in. I didn't know this when I moved in because there was absolutely no way to see the hole. The hole was located at a place that was not accessible by anyone because the building next door was about 6 inches away. So to fix this hole they would have to put a hole in the wall of the building over. About 2 months in, and with the fall now upon us, I started to hear some scrambling in the walls, like something trying to get out of the wall. I reported to my landlord, he claimed to have put traps but I knew he was lying. One day I was having a friend come over and as he was about to walk into the building the scrambling/scratching started. I had him look down that small gap between the buildings and he saw 2 squirrels climbing out of the wall. I informed the landlord, he claimed to have fixed the issue a couple days later. All was fine with the world for a couple weeks.
Until it started crawling on top of the false ceiling. I had one of those false ceiling things that most office buildings have and the fucking squirrels found a way on top of it. The landlord and I mutually decided to drop the lease and I was gone the next day.
Living in the fraternity house, I lived on the top floor where the ceiling slanted down to the floor. The boards on this slanting part weren't real solid and had some holes right up to the roof of the house. At about 4AM, I heard some noise near the stuff I had stored over under the slanted part. I glanced over and there was a squirrel standing on top of one of my totes. We stared each other down for a few seconds. As soon as I stood up, he ran back into the ceiling. Never saw him again.
An aside, fuck whoever it was that typed out that whole Donald Duck song. I didn't need that terrible 1960s recording stuck in my head.
I was in a tent in a base in Afghanistan. it was roughly 50 outside so everyone was basically laying in sleeping bags with just a big enough hole to see out the end where you would put your dvd player, laptop, porn, ect. I'm peering out my little warmth cave watching 1408 when about 6" from my nose a tiny rodent head peers around my dvd player's side in an almost cartoon like slow motion fashion. the little plague bearer and i stare at each other for a good 20 seconds while my brain tries to processes what is happening. He takes a step towards me. I freak the fuck out swatting both the dvd player and rodent off the bed in one slick motion, whereupon the rodent plops directly into my ruck sack where all my clothes are (no way to wash clothes at this base either). I apparently was yelling fuck quite a bit during this entire incident. I flail around in my sleeping back trying to get out while at the same time my hands are picking up this ruck sack and shaking it because that will somehow make the mouse come out instead of diving deep and digging in. After much worming and swearing i successfully knock myself onto the floor and wriggle out while kicking my rucksack and 3/4 my stuff across the tent. Only about 27 paratroopers are now watching me thinking I've lost my mind or something. Suddenly the mouse darts out of my ruck and disappears though the door. They only made fun of me for a month or so. Good times.
An aside, fuck whoever it was that typed out that whole Donald Duck song. I didn't need that terrible 1960s recording stuck in my head.
I live for moments like these.
As for the above story, I was doing some volunteer work at a campground with some friends. We were cleaning out the woodshed when we get near the bottom we find a rat. This is not just any rat though, this is a mother rat with about 10 young. Also this rat is nearly as big as my cat. So the rat kind of shuffles off away from us and climbs out of the shed with her babies either scattering, riding her back, or hanging on by her nipples (ouch!). We kind of look at each other, and continue shoveling wood bits and rat shit out. The camp groundskeeper comes back and we tell him about the rat and he asks why we didn't kill it. We say we didn't really feel like stabbing a huge mother rodent with a pitchfork. So we finish up the shed and get back in the Gator to ride back to the maintenance building to get supplies for our next job. We're on about our second trip in when all of a sudden, the grounds guy just starts jumping up and down, dancing around and yelling. He curses a bunch and just starts ripping his pants off over his boots. Suddenly, a baby rat runs out of his pants and out of the building. The little fucker had climbed into his clothes and bitten him on the knee.
I used to own a LAN center, which is a place where you could come in and pay $5 to get an hour on a PC to play games or use the internet. We had software installed on all the machines so you had to login through our server to use them as the server kept track of your time and also let us see what you were doing. That was fairly important because most of our customers were middle school aged kids and we wanted to maintain a family friendly atmosphere or the parents would make our revenue dry up.
We had one guy that came in and paid for 4 or 5 hours up front, which wasn't strange, but he only used the PC for about 15 minutes before he left, which was strange. He only came in a couple times a week, if that often but was memorable because he always came in the back door and because of where he always sat. The store was an odd shape, not quite a rectangle. There was a little indention area where a closet used to be and he always used the PC that was in that spot. We used large square tables with four computers each and made sure you could see all the monitors as you walked through the store so people could watch the games. However, this particular station had a bit more privacy than any of the others due to the weird shape of the store. You could really only see the screen if you were specifically looking and you came in the back door.
On his second or third visit someone else was sitting at that table, though not at "his" computer and when he saw this he turned around and left. I mentioned it to the other guy that worked for me and that's when we realized he always sat in that particular spot and we started wondering why we couldn't use the computer if someone else was at the table. The next time he came in, we pulled up the screen capture program on the server to see what he was doing. Like I said, we had a lot of kids in the joint and didn't want anything going on that would cause the parents to freak out.
After he'd logged in to the system, I looked at the screen capture program only to be greeted by an erect cock filling the screen. Turns out he was going to gay cruising sites to arrange hook ups in the bathroom of the library down the street. I've got no problem with that, but do you really need to be looking at dicks with kids playing counterstrike at the next table? I quickly blacklisted the site and once he found that out never came back.
This thread has had me laughing like an idiot for the last 3 nights.
It's only fair that I chip in.
In college, I was the help-desk guy in the dorm computer labs. Lots of boredom and time to websurf, download stuff (not porn... we could get away with breaking some rules, but not that one. Too risky), and occasionally there were some interesting moments. Like...
He only came in a couple times a week, if that often but was memorable because he always came in the back door and because of where he always sat. The store was an odd shape, not quite a rectangle. There was a little indention area where a closet used to be and he always used the PC that was in that spot.
Just like in Caliban's story, I spotted a guy one night who was obviously trying to use the layout of the room to keep people from seeing what was on his screen. But he really picked the wrong spot, because there was a side room behind him with two more computers in it. I walked into this room and stayed in there for a few minutes, gave him a chance to forget about me, and then walked right up behind him. He was surfing gay porn. I asked him to leave, he jumped and walked out quickly without logging out, leaving me to take care of the porn on the machine. The guy who'd been sitting next to him looked at me and grinned like "right on," thanking me for the bust. Rather than trying to kill the porn popups, I pulled the power plug and rebooted.
My friend who also worked in the labs later said I should've announced to the room in my loudest voice, while standing next to the guy, "PORN IS NOT ALLOWED IN THE COMPUTER LAB." That would've been good, but I wasn't that aggressive at that point in my life.
----2) "Fuck (the man)"----
Sophomore year, I had an RA who was a nice guy, but let his partying/drinking (not in his room.. not in our hall.. just.. in general. his reputation) get too out of control, and got fired for it. He had to move out. He let the floor know, and before he left, he let the guys have a 'going-away' party with alcohol and cigars in the lounge (it was supposed to be a dry smoke-free building).
Soon after that, my friend (same lab co-worker from above, we'll call him Jack) was feeling rebellious and mischevious. They had not moved a replacement RA in yet, so he decided it was a fun idea to take pennies and epoxy them to the door of the RA's room to spell out "FUCK THE MAN." Since there was no one living there, and the guys on our floor were not likely to narc if anyone noticed, the only potential problem was the nightly rounds made by the campus police. We were on the first floor, and the security checks were made from the top floor going down, so I volunteered to wait up on 3rd floor (which happened to be the lobby - building was on a hill), where it would seem less than odd for someone to be just loitering, and run down to give a heads-up when the cop was getting close.
A few minutes after I took up my post, the cop walked by. He noticed me, and probably wondered if I was waiting for someone, but neither of us said anything. As soon as he disappeared through the door to the 3rd floor rooms, I scooted downstairs to deliver the warning. Jack had been using really big letters, so he had only finished the word "FUCK" But there was no time left, so we retreated into my room, along with another friend who was watching, and shut the door. The three of us watched and listened out the peephole being really quiet as the cop walked by. He stopped near the RA room, we thought we heard him say something like "aw, shit," and he must have called the vandalism in because the "FUCK" was gone within a few hours. (the epoxy didn't have time to set, or that removal would've been pretty ugly and the whole floor might have gotten hassled about it)
In college, I had this Writing class that had one-on-one meetings with the instructor outdoors under some big ass trees. I was having my one on one meeting with him and we were going over one of my drafts and I think I had asked him something about my references and as he opened his mouth to say something a big ass fig leaf at full speed flew into his mouth.
Choking and laughing was had.
To be honest, I was disappointed. With the opening sentence I expected a pile of bird shit to land in his mouth. Maybe some squirrel shit, but definitely some kind of shit.
At the college I went to, we have a ton of oak trees, and a bunch of really spoiled squirrels with no fear of man. One of these squirrels is a hostile little bastard. He throws acorns at people. He will, with his little squirrel hands somehow chuck what should be his food supply at people a respectable (for a squirrel) distance away. My sister got hit by an acorn traveling at an angle too low to have been gravity and looks over at where it came from, and sees this squirrel looking at her making that angry chattering sound they do.
My best friend, went to this theology school. The building used to be a bordello actually, they have all sorts of odd railins and seats in the showers and baths...
Anyway, they had these horribly diseased little bastards running around, mange or something, who were attacking people. As it happened he had a pretty good pellet gun with a scope so he was hired to take them out. One day he got bored, or the bloodshed broke him, and he decided to freak the girls living there out.
Apparently girls don't like finding a dead squirrel, crucified to a piece of wood, with it's guts handing out.
This isn't so much a story, but a reoccurance of events. Whenever I think no one is in the room, and I expel some gas. All of the sudden everyone wants to talk to me, or happens to come my way. For instance I will relieve a bit in my office then all of the sudden like 2 or 3 people will walk in "Brando we need you to take care of this right away." I'm like The funny thing about that is people generally won't need my help for something, but when I have gas its like I'm Obi Wan and I'm their last hope. Or when I am outside smoking a cigarette, relieve a bit of gas then suddenly a tour will exit the door I am standing by.
Actually, I told a much shorter version of this story too. The abridged version doesn't do justice to how strange and creepy the guy and situation was, so I'll tell it properly this time.
This is the same LAN center, probably on a Saturday afternoon since there were two of us in the shop at the same time. We're located in an area with a fair amount of pedestrian traffic, so people popping in to ask a quick question wasn't unusual. This guy comes in to ask about internet service. He was short and pretty thin and very twitchy. Not like a tic, but more like a little yappy dog.
Him: I want to get internet over the air.
Me: Do you mean like a wireless network?
Him: Is that over the air?
Me: In a manner of speaking. How many computers do you have?
Him: One.
Me: Oh, ok. You want to be able to use your laptop anywhere in your house, right?
Him: I don't have a laptop.
Me: I'm not sure I understand. If you have a desktop, why do you care if it is wireless?
Him: How else would I get the internet?
Me: Wait, you don't have internet already?
Him: No, but I want it through the air.
Me: Well, the first step would be to sign up with an internet provider, like the phone or cable company.
Him: But other people get it over the air.
Me: Right, but they either pay a provider for it and set up a wireless network or they're stealing the signal from their neighbors who pay for the service, which is illegal and I'm not going to tell you how to do it.
Him: Oh, ok. I thought you could just pull the internet out of the air.
Then he left, and I figured I'd never see him again. It turns out I was wrong, because the next day he came back with a letter in his hand. He buys an hour or two on our PCs and tells me he needs help with this letter, which he hands to me to read. The letter is from some sort of detective agency. Apparently he had spent some money with this Russian mail-order bride company and (surprise, surprise) they scammed him. The detective had written the letter telling him he wouldn't be able to recover the money, but did offer a couple of online Russian bride sites that are reputable. I'm confused, since the URLs are in the letter, so how complicated can it be. It turns out he doesn't know how to get there. I turn on the computer for him and show him how to use IE. Actually, I first have to show him how to use a mouse. I'm not even kidding about that.
We get to the site and I tell him to have fun and go back to the counter to finish whatever I was working on. But he needs more help. He can't figure out how to use the site. It is a fairly simply register for free, sign in with password type of thing. I show him where the register button is and he seems happy, so I go back to working on the PC I was fixing. Now he wants to know what to put in the field where it asks for an email address. It turns out he doesn't have one of those either. I'd assumed he had one since he'd mentioned using the internet before but him not knowing how to use a mouse should have clued me in. I take him to Hotmail and walk him through setting up an email address. He goes back to the bride site and finished registering while I go back to fixing the PC again.
However, he doesn't understand how to use the site (who didn't see that coming?), but my patience is wearing thin. I've got work to do for customers that are paying me a lot more than $5/hour. Besides that, buying time on the PCs doesn't mean I'm going to teach you to use the computer. So I tell him if he needs help I'm happy to give it to him, but he's got to pay the hourly rate for instruction, $60/hour. That's what I charge when people want me to come out and show them how to use their camcorder, but unfortunately I have work to do, so if he needs my time I have to charge him for it.
Amazingly enough, he pays for the time. I find out that he's been trying this at the library down the street, but the librarians won't take the time to help him, so he came to me. I take a few minutes to look at the site and figure out what's going on. Basically, you buy tokens on the site with real money. Then, anytime you send or read an email, they charge you tokens. You can also pay extra tokens for other things, like sending icons to the girl or whatever. I explain all this and he seems to understand. I show him how to search for the girls and open the profiles and explain what the various icons mean. It is a slow, frustrating procress, but in the end he's happy and I can get back to work.
At least, until he comes up to the counter with a $20 bill.
Him: I found a nice girl I want to talk to.
Me: That's nice. (not sure what else to say)
Him: I need to buy some tokens.
Me: Oh, did your time run out already? (I check the server) No, you've still got about 20 minutes left.
Him: No, I need to buy tokens so I can send the email to her.
Me: I can't sell you tokens, you have to buy those on the website like I showed you.
Him: How do they get the money?
Me: Umm... with a credit or debit card?
Him: But I don't have one of those, so I'll just buy them from you.
Me: No, I can't sell them to you. The credit/debit card is the only option for this.
Him: Do you have one?
Me: Of course, they aren't hard to get. They give one to you with your checking account.
Him: Can I use your card then?
Me: There's no way in hell I'm using my card on that site.
Him: But I'll give you the money!
Me: I understand that, but if I use my card, that means it is tied to your account and every time you send or get an email, I get charged. Then you start going to the library and sending tons of emails or whatever and I'm out a ton of money (tokens aren't cheap) and I have to cancel my card and get a new one? No thank you. If you want to do this, you'll have to get a card. There's a bank across the street, go there and open an account. In a couple weeks you'll have a debit card.
Him: Oh. Well, I have a friend that has a credit card, maybe he'll help me.
Me: Yeah, that's probably a good idea.
So he leaves, crestfallen and I once again figure I'll never see him again. I'm proven wrong about a few days later. Now he's got a card, though I'm not sure how he got it so quickly. Maybe he was lying about not having it or maybe he just didn't have it with him, I'm not sure. He tells me he decided not to go to his friend, because he didn't want him to know about it. I figure that was the first smart move he's made this whole time. In fact, I figure me knowing about it is one person too many.
He pays for more computer time and pays for more help, too. I show him how to enter his credit card info on the site and help him send a couple emails and he's happy for the rest of the afternoon. He comes in a few more times, but he's an old pro at this now and is happily sending and reading emails all afternoon a couple times a week.
This goes on for a little while until he doesn't come in and I figure he gave up, got sick of spending the money, or maxed out his card on all the emails. Just when I'd pretty much stopped thinking about him, he comes in with the news that he's leaving for Russia the next day. He just wanted to send a couple last minute emails before he goes. He asks if I think the girls will be able to respond before he leaves, but I have to tell him no. When I did the initial reading on the site, I found out the email process works like this. You send the email to the agency. They hire a translator to translate it to Russian. Then they send the message to the girl. Now, she may or may not respond and is under no time constraints to do so. But if she does, she sends her message back to the agency, who have to get it translated again. Now even if that process didn't take a long time (and the site said it could take days), there's still no way he's getting a same-day response due to the time difference. He's disappointed, but still checks the site again, tells me goodbye and leaves.
That was the last time he came in. We were open for several months after that before I moved away, but he never came back. He was annoying and really creepy but also pretty sad, too. Maybe he had something mentally wrong or maybe he just had a supreme lack of any social skills. But I really think he was just a lonely guy. It isn't that I liked the guy or really even cared much how this turned out for me. I suppose I was mostly just curious and felt some pity for him, too. I know there's no way he found true love on his trip to Russia, but hopefully he didn't meet some Hostel-like fate, either.
This isn't so much a story, but a reoccurance of events. Whenever I think no one is in the room, and I expel some gas. All of the sudden everyone wants to talk to me, or happens to come my way. For instance I will relieve a bit in my office then all of the sudden like 2 or 3 people will walk in "Brando we need you to take care of this right away." I'm like The funny thing about that is people generally won't need my help for something, but when I have gas its like I'm Obi Wan and I'm their last hope. Or when I am outside smoking a cigarette, relieve a bit of gas then suddenly a tour will exit the door I am standing by.
Does this kinda stuff happen to anyone else?
The other day I was in the library (actually, in the exact same spot I'm in now...), alone in a corner that's near useful stuff, but still kind of tucked away. I let one fly. It was a monster - no odors, but the noise was all kinds of raunchy, and its source would have been unmistakeable if there were other people around. That's not a problem, because I'm alone, you see. Not half a second later, a group of 8 people walk in and sit down in the other chairs. Hilarity.
This isn't so much a story, but a reoccurance of events. Whenever I think no one is in the room, and I expel some gas. All of the sudden everyone wants to talk to me, or happens to come my way. For instance I will relieve a bit in my office then all of the sudden like 2 or 3 people will walk in "Brando we need you to take care of this right away." I'm like The funny thing about that is people generally won't need my help for something, but when I have gas its like I'm Obi Wan and I'm their last hope. Or when I am outside smoking a cigarette, relieve a bit of gas then suddenly a tour will exit the door I am standing by.
Does this kinda stuff happen to anyone else?
The other day I was in the library (actually, in the exact same spot I'm in now...), alone in a corner that's near useful stuff, but still kind of tucked away. I let one fly. It was a monster - no odors, but the noise was all kinds of raunchy, and its source would have been unmistakeable if there were other people around. That's not a problem, because I'm alone, you see. Not half a second later, a group of 8 people walk in and sit down in the other chairs. Hilarity.
A few years back, I was working as a custom developer, writing small "quick and dirty" apps for our clients. Because of the way this company did their books, there was always a big push at the end of the month to make sure everything was finished and shipped out. This particular month, I was sitting in my office banging away at the keyboard, sweat beading down my face, trying like hell to get this program finished on time. And then I farted. Not big, and stank as hell. My eyes watered a little and I paused long enough to go "ew." And then back to work. About ten seconds later, the CEO comes walking by doing his normal End Of Month Rounds, asking everyone if they're going to get their work finished (he always carried a baseball bat when he did this... the guy was kind of weird). He walks into my office.
Boss: "Hey, thur, Lineno-"
Me: "..."
Boss: "... did you just fart?"
Me: :nod:
The boss then runs back into the hallway and proceeds to give me my monthly "are you going to get everything finished? Great!" pep talk from the hallway.
Posts
Why's that?
Oh. I was just helping you check whether your sarcasm detection software was working yet. I guess it isn't.
We had lime green, hot pink, and neon orange signs surrounding the machine telling people this. Despite all of the warnings, people would still bring up 32 and 64 oz cups of the stuff and become outraged when I was charging them $6 or more for their 55 gallon drum of slushy. Of course, after they learned they had to pay that much, they often left the drink without paying. We had to dump out a lot Polar Wave due to this idiocy, because we obviously can't put it back in the machine.
Anyway, a customer and her 12 or 13 year old son come up to the counter with a 32oz Polar Wave and a pack of Pop Tarts, which were like $2 or some such.
"Oh, god, let me get this lady in and out of here before she realizes she's going to pay an arm and a leg for this shit," I thought to myself.
She hands me the stuff, and I give her the total. She pays, and as I think I've gotten through the transaction without a Polar Wave confrontation, she says, "How much were the Pop Tarts?"
Me: $2, ma'am.
Lady: So, you're telling me this drink is $6?
Me: Yes, it is.
Son: But, the sign says $2.
Me: Yes, but only if you get it in the clear Polar Wave cups attached to the machine.
Son: That's bullshit. It doesn't say that.
Lady: I'm not paying $6 for a drink.
Me: Well, you kind of have to. You already poured it, and he already drank out of it. I can't pour it back in the machine, and the mix is expensive. That's why it costs so much for the customers.
Meanwhile, 3 more adult relatives of these people come in to see what's taking so long. The mom tells them what I said, and the whole brood goes back to inspect the signs to tell if I'm lying about the sign. They stood there and stared at the signs like it was a Magic Eye or something for about 5 minutes. Satisfied with my truth-telling abilities, they all go to leave. The mom tells the kid to get the drink and come on.
He says, "You said we weren't paying for it, so I threw it away. Can I get this bottle of soda instead?"
Mom: "Um, no. You just wasted six bucks. Get your ass in the car."
The lady exits.
The boy turns to exit, and he puffs ups his chest like he's auditioning to play the starring role in a 50 Cent biography. He looks me straight in the eye the entire time as he walks out and says, and I quote,
"I'm gon' pee on the flo'."
What...the...fuck? You can't read 3 different signs; in response, you're going to urinate in my place of business in front of your friends, family, and strangers. Knock yourself out, gangsta.
Really? I'm gon' pee on the flo'.
"I'm gon' shit on the flo'."
====== "Gas Station Bomb"
Now, Pomona is home to the LA County Fair and they like to have flea markets and random shows when the fair isn't up. There are week long auto shows and races at the Pomona Speedway as well so we got to see some sweet ass race cars and show cars. One occassion, a co-worker and I got to see this sweet ass '60something Cobra painted in a sexy baby blue and it pulled in to fill up AS LOUD AS POSSIBLE. I mean, even our inch thick bullet proof windows shook a bit. Everyone just stopped and dropped their jaws.
The door opens and this really tall guy with reflective glasses and a matching baby blue sport hat (think beret + baseball cap) and he walks in to the store. He comes up to me and asks for some Marlboros and for $50 in gas. I comply and he goes out to fill up. With every customer that purchases cigs, I tell them to not smoke near the gas pumps and he nods. He puts the nozzle in and leaves the gas going and walks off to the side to smoke away from the pumps. At this point I'm attending other customers and my co-worker is outside sweeping and helping some old lady fill up. My "HELP" thing lights up on my register and it appears that the Cobra dude is having a problem. I turn on my 2-way and ask him what's wrong. He tells me "Uhm, it seems my car is leaking fuel."
My co-worker and I do the usual thing of stopping the pump and dropping sand/kitty litter to absorbed the spilled gas. However, this wasn't a small puddle. This was covering pretty much everywhere in the station. As we're cleaning the dude is right behind us apologizing and everything....WHILE SMOKING! He eventually extinguishes his cig away from us and comes back. Then after we're done and sweeping away the stuff more gas starts to appear. We both look up and this idiot STILL PUMPING, refusing to leave without getting the gas he paid for. Eventually, after some talking, he stops. I refund the rest of his gas and all is well. I recommend he goes to a body shop to get it looked at but he insists on driving to the fairgrounds (about 2 miles away). He insists he made a mistake and that his tank isn't damaged and drives away...while smoking.
====== "Man, I already PAID you!"
Towards the end of my tenure, I started to work graveyard shift (10pm to 6am). The ministore is closed so I operate through a cashier window and can't let people in. Either way, even crazier stuff happened during this time.
I once witnessed a real gang fight. Around 2am, an Escalade comes up to a pump with rap music blaring at 10000 decibels and 4 guys hop out. One pays $20 for gas and they pump. All of a sudden I hear tires squeeling from around the corner and ANOTHER Escalade rolls around with another party crew playing rap music at 1000000 decibels. The come to a screeching stop near the pumps and 4 guys come out and run to the other group. All 4 do some stupid stare-down and fists start flying with kicks being limited because of how baggy their pants were. After 5 minutes of shitty, uncoordinated fighting the 2nd crew jumps back in and drives away at 80 mph. The first crew hops into their SUV and follows them, having left behind $19.70 worth of gas. Of course 2 minutes later, the COPs arrive.
About 10 minutes later, a shitty Camaro pulls up and some "wankster" stumbles up to my window. He's clearly stoned, drunk, and looks like he should be in rehab. He gets super close to the window and this exchange:
"DUDE CAN I HAVE SOME NACHOS!?!?"
"Sorry, we don't have nachos. I can sell you some chips though."
"AW COME ON BRO, PLEASE?!"
"Sorry, don't have any nachos. What kind of chips you like?"
"OH...UHM...OH SHIT YEAH GIMME SOME CHEETOHS...SOME OF THEM HOT FRIES!"
"Sure, it'll be $0.99"
"DUDE I JUST PAID YOU!"
*checks the pay tray and the larger one below it*
"Uh, I don't see any money in the tray."
"MAN I GAVE IT TO YOU AND YOU PUT IT IN THE REGISTER!"
*checks register 'recent transactions'*
"Nope, I don't have it."
"DUDE YOU'RE LIKE TOTALLY ROBBING ME!"
"Why would I rob $0.99?"
"MAN ASIUDYGQW&GEKJ!BOIC..." walks into his car and pulls out an empty beer bottle.
He then throws this bottle directly at the 1inch thick plastic bullet proof window. Weird physics kicks in and rather than shatter the bottle, bounces at a high angle and drops down hard on the guy's head. He's on the walkway in front of my window holding his head screaming in pain. He then stands up...
"Bro...could...could I have a Band-Aid?"
I give him 2 through the tray and he gets in his car to apply them then drives off.
I hope you charged him for the band-aids though
'Can I have a band-aid?'
'That'll be 99 cents please.'
In high school, we'd just got out of a movie and we were standing outside the mall, right beside it on the side walk. I had Gobstoppers (hard candy) and decided I wanted to see if I could throw one of them on top of the mall from that angle (about 6 feet from the wall that went up probably 3-4 stories). I threw it as hard as I could basically straight up and immediately lost sight of where it was going. Frustrated, I started looking around to try to see if it would hit the ground. What seemed like way too long went by and just as I decided to give up on looking for, stabbing pain throughout my skull. It had come back down and hit me right on the top of the head. It put me in eye-clinching pain for a few seconds. My friends were amused.
It's when the morning shift person arrives hella late that it sucks.
The other day, he's at happy hour for his birthday. I'm there for a little while but have to leave early. He's brought along this girl, let's say Girl A, who knows his ex, and Girl B, who's really good friends with his ex. He's decided to see where things go with Girl A, and has been for a little while. So he's having a good time dealing with that, getting rip-roaringly drunk, when Girl B springs a surprise. His ex sits down at the table, flown in from several states away, for his birthday.
When I heard the story second-hand the next day, I couldn't stop laughing. And apparently, Girl A took the cue to leave a little early instead of driving him home that night. :P
As they should be.
One day, in maybe my freshman year of high school, Me and a couple friends were at the apartment complex's recreation area. Basically an extra apartment with games and crap. One room was empty as they were going to be bringing in a Foosball table, but this room had a ceiling fan. That in itself isn't bad, but we also had bouncy balls.
Within minutes the fan was going full speed and we would lay down under it and throw the balls up into the fan and watch as they were shot into the wall and bounced around. It was all fun and games until we had the bright idea to stand up and fucking dodge the balls as they flew off the fan and bounced back at our heads. Within seconds we were all back on the floor, but instead of laughing maniacally, we were writhing in pain.
In college, I had this Writing class that had one-on-one meetings with the instructor outdoors under some big ass trees. I was having my one on one meeting with him and we were going over one of my drafts and I think I had asked him something about my references and as he opened his mouth to say something a big ass fig leaf at full speed flew into his mouth.
Choking and laughing was had.
To be honest, I was disappointed. With the opening sentence I expected a pile of bird shit to land in his mouth. Maybe some squirrel shit, but definitely some kind of shit.
I went to this play a few weeks ago out in the middle of now where. My friends and I are walking back to the car. Mind you, this is New Hampshire, so it's about 13 degrees out and it's also alittle after 11 o'clock.
We had to park in a parking lot about a mile from the theater, so the long walk was had.
The parking lot was actually the back of a school, so it's kinda cool. We get all excited for no reason and start racing to the car.
My one friend, he's so fucking fast, races ahead. I try to do some stupid wall jump thing that makes me look retarded And the other two friends are girls so I feel really stupid). I then decide to run up and catch my friend. I'm running, running, yelling his name, 'where are you, haha'.
Then WHOOF. Next thing I know I'm tumbling through the air, winded and suddenly bleeding from the head.
Apparently he was around the building, where a parking gate was left unchained. He thought it'd be funny to swing it at us as we ran up, not expecting that I wouldn't see it coming. It nailed me in the stomach and I flipped over it, and scratched my forehead pretty bad on the ground with a decent SMACK sound too.
He immediately freaked out and started apologizing, but I was more concerned about where the blood was coming from.
Once we had determined I was fine, aside from scrapes on my head, we left.
Best part probably was going to McDonald's afterwards and ordering with blood streaks down the front of my face. The other customers looked horrified, which almost made it worth getting fucked up.
At the college I went to, we have a ton of oak trees, and a bunch of really spoiled squirrels with no fear of man. One of these squirrels is a hostile little bastard. He throws acorns at people. He will, with his little squirrel hands somehow chuck what should be his food supply at people a respectable (for a squirrel) distance away. My sister got hit by an acorn traveling at an angle too low to have been gravity and looks over at where it came from, and sees this squirrel looking at her making that angry chattering sound they do.
And the adventures of Chip and Dale are born. Your sister wouldn't happen to be Donald Duck, would she?
Who's got the sweetest disposition?
One guess, guess who.
Who'd never, never start an argument?
Who'd never show a bit of temperment?
Who's never wrong, but always right?
Who'd never dream of starting a fight?
Who gets stuck with all of that luck?
No one... *quackquackquackquack* but Donald Duck!
Is it sad that I have that memorized and playing in my head with the oldschool radiostyle chorus singing it?
I was out at lunch at the shopping center by my office. I was on the phone with a friend , walking on a path that was lined with 30 foot tall conifers. What I didn't notice was that there was a nest in one of them, and as I passed it- I was attacked by a bird for like 30 seconds. Needless to say, I freaked out.
My friend asked what the hell was going on. I had to explain, while swinging at this bird with my free hand, that I was under attack, and feared for my life.
She was amused.
This man speaks truth. I bet it was a mockingbird. Those things are territorial as all hell when they have babies. I was walking my dog once and got attacked by a mockingbird that lived across the street. Kind of freaked me out. That same day my sister was babysitting the kid who lived at the house the bird lived at. They went outside to play and the bird, which lived by the door started attacking them and the kid was scared to go back in the house because of the bird. So they had to play in our yard for a couple hours till they saw the bird leave to get food.
But.... a mockingbird never hurt anybody. They just make the world more beautiful with their song!
Atticus, you lied to me!
At least you don't have one living in your ceiling.
I have a small roof protruding from my building about 1-2' out my window (3rd floor). I look out there yesterday because of some noise figuring "Oh, its just the construction next door."
No, it's the fucking squirrel with a jar of peanut butter.
On the 3rd floor
I have you beat. At one place I lived for a short amount of time, there was a hole in the wall that squirrels decided to make a nest in. I didn't know this when I moved in because there was absolutely no way to see the hole. The hole was located at a place that was not accessible by anyone because the building next door was about 6 inches away. So to fix this hole they would have to put a hole in the wall of the building over. About 2 months in, and with the fall now upon us, I started to hear some scrambling in the walls, like something trying to get out of the wall. I reported to my landlord, he claimed to have put traps but I knew he was lying. One day I was having a friend come over and as he was about to walk into the building the scrambling/scratching started. I had him look down that small gap between the buildings and he saw 2 squirrels climbing out of the wall. I informed the landlord, he claimed to have fixed the issue a couple days later. All was fine with the world for a couple weeks.
Until it started crawling on top of the false ceiling. I had one of those false ceiling things that most office buildings have and the fucking squirrels found a way on top of it. The landlord and I mutually decided to drop the lease and I was gone the next day.
An aside, fuck whoever it was that typed out that whole Donald Duck song. I didn't need that terrible 1960s recording stuck in my head.
I live for moments like these.
As for the above story, I was doing some volunteer work at a campground with some friends. We were cleaning out the woodshed when we get near the bottom we find a rat. This is not just any rat though, this is a mother rat with about 10 young. Also this rat is nearly as big as my cat. So the rat kind of shuffles off away from us and climbs out of the shed with her babies either scattering, riding her back, or hanging on by her nipples (ouch!). We kind of look at each other, and continue shoveling wood bits and rat shit out. The camp groundskeeper comes back and we tell him about the rat and he asks why we didn't kill it. We say we didn't really feel like stabbing a huge mother rodent with a pitchfork. So we finish up the shed and get back in the Gator to ride back to the maintenance building to get supplies for our next job. We're on about our second trip in when all of a sudden, the grounds guy just starts jumping up and down, dancing around and yelling. He curses a bunch and just starts ripping his pants off over his boots. Suddenly, a baby rat runs out of his pants and out of the building. The little fucker had climbed into his clothes and bitten him on the knee.
We had one guy that came in and paid for 4 or 5 hours up front, which wasn't strange, but he only used the PC for about 15 minutes before he left, which was strange. He only came in a couple times a week, if that often but was memorable because he always came in the back door and because of where he always sat. The store was an odd shape, not quite a rectangle. There was a little indention area where a closet used to be and he always used the PC that was in that spot. We used large square tables with four computers each and made sure you could see all the monitors as you walked through the store so people could watch the games. However, this particular station had a bit more privacy than any of the others due to the weird shape of the store. You could really only see the screen if you were specifically looking and you came in the back door.
On his second or third visit someone else was sitting at that table, though not at "his" computer and when he saw this he turned around and left. I mentioned it to the other guy that worked for me and that's when we realized he always sat in that particular spot and we started wondering why we couldn't use the computer if someone else was at the table. The next time he came in, we pulled up the screen capture program on the server to see what he was doing. Like I said, we had a lot of kids in the joint and didn't want anything going on that would cause the parents to freak out.
After he'd logged in to the system, I looked at the screen capture program only to be greeted by an erect cock filling the screen. Turns out he was going to gay cruising sites to arrange hook ups in the bathroom of the library down the street. I've got no problem with that, but do you really need to be looking at dicks with kids playing counterstrike at the next table? I quickly blacklisted the site and once he found that out never came back.
It's only fair that I chip in.
In college, I was the help-desk guy in the dorm computer labs. Lots of boredom and time to websurf, download stuff (not porn... we could get away with breaking some rules, but not that one. Too risky), and occasionally there were some interesting moments. Like...
----1) Asking for Embarrassment----
Just like in Caliban's story, I spotted a guy one night who was obviously trying to use the layout of the room to keep people from seeing what was on his screen. But he really picked the wrong spot, because there was a side room behind him with two more computers in it. I walked into this room and stayed in there for a few minutes, gave him a chance to forget about me, and then walked right up behind him. He was surfing gay porn. I asked him to leave, he jumped and walked out quickly without logging out, leaving me to take care of the porn on the machine. The guy who'd been sitting next to him looked at me and grinned like "right on," thanking me for the bust. Rather than trying to kill the porn popups, I pulled the power plug and rebooted.
My friend who also worked in the labs later said I should've announced to the room in my loudest voice, while standing next to the guy, "PORN IS NOT ALLOWED IN THE COMPUTER LAB."
----2) "Fuck (the man)"----
Sophomore year, I had an RA who was a nice guy, but let his partying/drinking (not in his room.. not in our hall.. just.. in general. his reputation) get too out of control, and got fired for it. He had to move out. He let the floor know, and before he left, he let the guys have a 'going-away' party with alcohol and cigars in the lounge (it was supposed to be a dry smoke-free building).
Soon after that, my friend (same lab co-worker from above, we'll call him Jack) was feeling rebellious and mischevious. They had not moved a replacement RA in yet, so he decided it was a fun idea to take pennies and epoxy them to the door of the RA's room to spell out "FUCK THE MAN." Since there was no one living there, and the guys on our floor were not likely to narc if anyone noticed, the only potential problem was the nightly rounds made by the campus police. We were on the first floor, and the security checks were made from the top floor going down, so I volunteered to wait up on 3rd floor (which happened to be the lobby - building was on a hill), where it would seem less than odd for someone to be just loitering, and run down to give a heads-up when the cop was getting close.
A few minutes after I took up my post, the cop walked by. He noticed me, and probably wondered if I was waiting for someone, but neither of us said anything. As soon as he disappeared through the door to the 3rd floor rooms, I scooted downstairs to deliver the warning. Jack had been using really big letters, so he had only finished the word "FUCK"
My best friend, went to this theology school. The building used to be a bordello actually, they have all sorts of odd railins and seats in the showers and baths...
Anyway, they had these horribly diseased little bastards running around, mange or something, who were attacking people. As it happened he had a pretty good pellet gun with a scope so he was hired to take them out. One day he got bored, or the bloodshed broke him, and he decided to freak the girls living there out.
Apparently girls don't like finding a dead squirrel, crucified to a piece of wood, with it's guts handing out.
STEAM
Yeah, I told a shorter version of it in one of the Employee Lounge threads a while back.
Does this kinda stuff happen to anyone else?
This is the same LAN center, probably on a Saturday afternoon since there were two of us in the shop at the same time. We're located in an area with a fair amount of pedestrian traffic, so people popping in to ask a quick question wasn't unusual. This guy comes in to ask about internet service. He was short and pretty thin and very twitchy. Not like a tic, but more like a little yappy dog.
Him: I want to get internet over the air.
Me: Do you mean like a wireless network?
Him: Is that over the air?
Me: In a manner of speaking. How many computers do you have?
Him: One.
Me: Oh, ok. You want to be able to use your laptop anywhere in your house, right?
Him: I don't have a laptop.
Me: I'm not sure I understand. If you have a desktop, why do you care if it is wireless?
Him: How else would I get the internet?
Me: Wait, you don't have internet already?
Him: No, but I want it through the air.
Me: Well, the first step would be to sign up with an internet provider, like the phone or cable company.
Him: But other people get it over the air.
Me: Right, but they either pay a provider for it and set up a wireless network or they're stealing the signal from their neighbors who pay for the service, which is illegal and I'm not going to tell you how to do it.
Him: Oh, ok. I thought you could just pull the internet out of the air.
Then he left, and I figured I'd never see him again. It turns out I was wrong, because the next day he came back with a letter in his hand. He buys an hour or two on our PCs and tells me he needs help with this letter, which he hands to me to read. The letter is from some sort of detective agency. Apparently he had spent some money with this Russian mail-order bride company and (surprise, surprise) they scammed him. The detective had written the letter telling him he wouldn't be able to recover the money, but did offer a couple of online Russian bride sites that are reputable. I'm confused, since the URLs are in the letter, so how complicated can it be. It turns out he doesn't know how to get there. I turn on the computer for him and show him how to use IE. Actually, I first have to show him how to use a mouse. I'm not even kidding about that.
We get to the site and I tell him to have fun and go back to the counter to finish whatever I was working on. But he needs more help. He can't figure out how to use the site. It is a fairly simply register for free, sign in with password type of thing. I show him where the register button is and he seems happy, so I go back to working on the PC I was fixing. Now he wants to know what to put in the field where it asks for an email address. It turns out he doesn't have one of those either. I'd assumed he had one since he'd mentioned using the internet before but him not knowing how to use a mouse should have clued me in. I take him to Hotmail and walk him through setting up an email address. He goes back to the bride site and finished registering while I go back to fixing the PC again.
However, he doesn't understand how to use the site (who didn't see that coming?), but my patience is wearing thin. I've got work to do for customers that are paying me a lot more than $5/hour. Besides that, buying time on the PCs doesn't mean I'm going to teach you to use the computer. So I tell him if he needs help I'm happy to give it to him, but he's got to pay the hourly rate for instruction, $60/hour. That's what I charge when people want me to come out and show them how to use their camcorder, but unfortunately I have work to do, so if he needs my time I have to charge him for it.
Amazingly enough, he pays for the time. I find out that he's been trying this at the library down the street, but the librarians won't take the time to help him, so he came to me. I take a few minutes to look at the site and figure out what's going on. Basically, you buy tokens on the site with real money. Then, anytime you send or read an email, they charge you tokens. You can also pay extra tokens for other things, like sending icons to the girl or whatever. I explain all this and he seems to understand. I show him how to search for the girls and open the profiles and explain what the various icons mean. It is a slow, frustrating procress, but in the end he's happy and I can get back to work.
At least, until he comes up to the counter with a $20 bill.
Him: I found a nice girl I want to talk to.
Me: That's nice. (not sure what else to say)
Him: I need to buy some tokens.
Me: Oh, did your time run out already? (I check the server) No, you've still got about 20 minutes left.
Him: No, I need to buy tokens so I can send the email to her.
Me: I can't sell you tokens, you have to buy those on the website like I showed you.
Him: How do they get the money?
Me: Umm... with a credit or debit card?
Him: But I don't have one of those, so I'll just buy them from you.
Me: No, I can't sell them to you. The credit/debit card is the only option for this.
Him: Do you have one?
Me: Of course, they aren't hard to get. They give one to you with your checking account.
Him: Can I use your card then?
Me: There's no way in hell I'm using my card on that site.
Him: But I'll give you the money!
Me: I understand that, but if I use my card, that means it is tied to your account and every time you send or get an email, I get charged. Then you start going to the library and sending tons of emails or whatever and I'm out a ton of money (tokens aren't cheap) and I have to cancel my card and get a new one? No thank you. If you want to do this, you'll have to get a card. There's a bank across the street, go there and open an account. In a couple weeks you'll have a debit card.
Him: Oh. Well, I have a friend that has a credit card, maybe he'll help me.
Me: Yeah, that's probably a good idea.
So he leaves, crestfallen and I once again figure I'll never see him again. I'm proven wrong about a few days later. Now he's got a card, though I'm not sure how he got it so quickly. Maybe he was lying about not having it or maybe he just didn't have it with him, I'm not sure. He tells me he decided not to go to his friend, because he didn't want him to know about it. I figure that was the first smart move he's made this whole time. In fact, I figure me knowing about it is one person too many.
He pays for more computer time and pays for more help, too. I show him how to enter his credit card info on the site and help him send a couple emails and he's happy for the rest of the afternoon. He comes in a few more times, but he's an old pro at this now and is happily sending and reading emails all afternoon a couple times a week.
This goes on for a little while until he doesn't come in and I figure he gave up, got sick of spending the money, or maxed out his card on all the emails. Just when I'd pretty much stopped thinking about him, he comes in with the news that he's leaving for Russia the next day. He just wanted to send a couple last minute emails before he goes. He asks if I think the girls will be able to respond before he leaves, but I have to tell him no. When I did the initial reading on the site, I found out the email process works like this. You send the email to the agency. They hire a translator to translate it to Russian. Then they send the message to the girl. Now, she may or may not respond and is under no time constraints to do so. But if she does, she sends her message back to the agency, who have to get it translated again. Now even if that process didn't take a long time (and the site said it could take days), there's still no way he's getting a same-day response due to the time difference. He's disappointed, but still checks the site again, tells me goodbye and leaves.
That was the last time he came in. We were open for several months after that before I moved away, but he never came back. He was annoying and really creepy but also pretty sad, too. Maybe he had something mentally wrong or maybe he just had a supreme lack of any social skills. But I really think he was just a lonely guy. It isn't that I liked the guy or really even cared much how this turned out for me. I suppose I was mostly just curious and felt some pity for him, too. I know there's no way he found true love on his trip to Russia, but hopefully he didn't meet some Hostel-like fate, either.
The other day I was in the library (actually, in the exact same spot I'm in now...), alone in a corner that's near useful stuff, but still kind of tucked away. I let one fly. It was a monster - no odors, but the noise was all kinds of raunchy, and its source would have been unmistakeable if there were other people around. That's not a problem, because I'm alone, you see. Not half a second later, a group of 8 people walk in and sit down in the other chairs. Hilarity.
Boss: "Hey, thur, Lineno-"
Me: "..."
Boss: "... did you just fart?"
Me: :nod:
The boss then runs back into the hallway and proceeds to give me my monthly "are you going to get everything finished? Great!" pep talk from the hallway.