Funny stories

[Enforcer]

I had one the other day in a local diner. I was sitting by myself waiting for my food when a retired couple sat down in a booth near mine. They both spent a few minutes browsing the menu before ordering. She ordered first, then him. "I'll have the chicken gyro and a cup of chicken lemon rice soup with a small side of french fries." As the waitress begins to write the order down, the Mrs. speaks up.

"Henry, you know you're not supposed to be eating french fries. Your doctor told you that you have to stop eating fried foods. I'm sorry, Miss, but he really shouldn't be having the fries. He should know better (glares at her husband)."

"Betty, I don't care what the doctor says, and I don't care what you say. If I want french fries, I'm getting french fries (turns toward waitress). Miss, scratch what I ordered. Just give me one great big plate full of french fries, forget the rest. If I want french fries, I'm going to eat some damn french fries (glares at wife)!"

"Henry, you're being positively ridiculous. Stop acting so stubborn. You're making a fool of yourself!"

"Miss, I have changed my mind again. Make that TWO gigantic plates full of french fries!"

"Oh, Henry. I have never in my life..."

"If I want french fries, then I am going to get my french fries, dammit! (Takes a deep breath and turns to the waitress and lets out a sigh) Ok, just give me the chicken gyro and the soup, no fries."

[Sand]

I was just checking the website of an Oslo paper. There I saw a story about people getting the best ideas in bed or out walking, not behind the desk. No news there, but they linked to earlier articles about Richard Wiseman's research

[Tanager]

I was up one night working on a flier for a student group while in grad school. The friend of mine with whom I was working on it and I went for some fried chicken at TimeOut, Chapel Hill's only late-night source for disgustingly greasy fried bird, then went back to Kinko's. It was about 4 AM, as best as I can recall. We were sitting there when a woman came in and went back to the bathroom. The only reason I noticed her was because she was wearing some of those early-80s style glasses with the dropped sort of stem/earpieces (whatever the fuck that part is called). A few minutes later she comes wandering out of the bathroom...buck naked, except for those groovy glasses. She wandered around quietly for a few minutes, eventually meandering back behind the counter and around the big commercial copy machines. The staff (two guys, I think) sorta moved as far away as they could while still remaining behind the counter and exchanged nervous grins and glances with the customers (amazingly numerous at that hour). For the record, no, she wasn't hot. It wasn't the least bit titillating, and I don't think it would have been in any case, b/c I think pretty much everyone in the place recognized she was a little loopy or something.

So anyway, the police arrived eventually, latex gloves and all, and they tried to talk to her, asking her if she needed anything, if she wanted to go somewhere where she could spend the night, etc. The woman didn't offer any resistance or anything - she wasn't even the least bit aggressive. IIRC, one of the officers eventually figured out he could just walk right up to her and wrap a blanket around her, then gently guide her out the door. It was truly bizarre.

[Jazzzoline]

Originally Posted by Sand

I was just checking the website of an Oslo paper. There I saw a story about people getting the best ideas in bed or out walking, not behind the desk. No news there, but they linked to earlier articles about Richard Wiseman's research

For me, there's no way I can escape it: I need to start, organize, throw the main ideas of my work during the night, when my husband is at work and my son sleeps. When I'm started, I con work all night. During the day, I just fill in the blanks and correct my typos.

My work relates to computer and computer systems. So whenever I have a problem to resolve, I ask my brain to find the answer before I sleep. When I wake up the morning after, I have the answer. It works everytime.

[clinthopson]

At the WCJP, Rob McConnell told about the letter he received from the Rev. Harold Ashburn of Mentecito, CA. It was on offical looking letterhead from the Rev.'s church a full temperance type. It went something like this.

"Dear Mr. McConnell,

I travel around the country lecturing on the evils of drink and the damage it does to individual and society.

Traveling with me has been Bernard Farquahar, s man who has indulged in every form of liquor and drugs. He sat on the stage, red nosed, disheveled and drooling. I pointed him out to the audience as an example of what alcohol can do to a person.

Unfortunately, Bernard recenly succumbed to his evil ways and has gone on to the great beyond.

I am searching for a replacement and your neme came up. Would you be available?

Yours In The lord,"

McConnell read the letter to the members of his band and one of the horn men said "How much does it pay?"

[Tanager]

Weird story #2, and this one's a WHOLE lot creepier.

I was working during my semester off from college (their choice, not mine) at a Burger King in Washington, D.C. Now, as some background, I have a nickname (no, not Tanager) by which pretty much everyone knows me. Noone uses my real name in anything other than business correspondence or sales calls. My nickname was what was on my nametag.

I was working late one fairly steamy Summer night in the drive-through when this guy rolls up in some bigass boat of a coupe - along the lines of a Coupe DeVille, but it wasn't that - something of similar proportions, however. I take his order and money, and then I sit there at the window with it open, b/c if you've ever been back in the bowels of a restaurant, FF or otherwise, you know it can get fucking hot back there. So this guy (I was 19 at the time, I'd have estimated him to be maybe in his mid-30s) asks me, "where you from?" I tell him I'm from right here in Washington, D.C. He says, "no, I meant where are your people from?"

Me: "People?"

Him: "You know, your ancestors, where were they from?"

Me: "Ummm...England, Germany, Scotland, mostly, I think..." (I didn't really fully know at the time, but it didn't matter in any case.)

Him: "Cool, my ancestors were from Ireland, we should get together and party sometime!"

At this point, I sorta muttered something and closed the window, then yelled out for someone to bring me this guy's fucking food fast. I handed him his food, thanked him for coming to Burger King, then closed the window.

Now, I'm sure I'm not the first man or woman to get hit on in less-than-classy/graceful fashion. The good part was yet to come.

A few days, maybe a week later, I was at home relaxing. The phone rings, and this male voice asks for me by my *real* name. Now remember, my real name wasn't on my badge, that was my nickname, and noone not conducting official business ever calls me by my real name. I say yes, this is he, and the voice says, "hey man, this is X, you know, from the drive-through the other night?"

Me: I'm just really get creeped out in a hurry, so I barely manage a stammer.

Him: "Hey man, are we gonna get together and party?"

Me: "Ummm...I don't think so..."

Him: "What's wrong man, did I come on too strong?"

Me: I hang up, run to my sister's room, and pretty much freak. So this loony has gotten my real name and my *mother's* home phone number (I was living at home during my ignominious semester off). I realized in retrospect that he'd probably social engineered it out of a particular (and utterly brainless fuckwit of a) manager, but I was way creeped out, b/c I felt like I was being stalked.

Nothing ever happened after that, but that was a fairly scary episode at the time for me.

[Enforcer]

Originally Posted by Jazzzoline

So whenever I have a problem to resolve, I ask my brain to find the answer before I sleep. When I wake up the morning after, I have the answer. It works everytime.

Do me a favor and ask your brain to find an answer to our problems getting my grandma's house emptied in time for the buyer to see it later this week.

Maybe the best way for me to get the quick answer is to be there when you wake up in the morning?

Striving for efficiency,
Larry

[Enforcer]

Originally Posted by Jazzzoline

Sorry Larry, but you should already know I got no brains with whatever relates to you.

I like the sound of that.

[AntManBee]

Originally Posted by Tanager

Weird story #2, and this one's a WHOLE lot creepier.

Yeah, that was pretty weird.

Not as weird and not really funny, but still a bit puzzling is the following story from like seven, eight years ago.

I have problems sleeping from time to time and sometimes I just go for a walk late at night to clear my thoughts and hopefully get tired enough to get to sleep. One of these nights after some walking around the neighbourhood I see a man across the street in the direction I'm going. I can see he's got a bag in his hand. He just stands there and I'll have to pass him by at close distance. I know I've never seen this guy ever before. He looks a bit scruffy but he's not drunk or anything like that. When I'm close enough, he just says, "You play the guitar, right?" In those days, I did play the guitar but only in my home, I never played live so he couldn't really have seen me in the street with a guitar case in my hand. Slightly surprised I say, "huh? yeah, as a matter of fact, I do. How did you know?" "I have inutition," says he. "Inutition?" I ask, repeating his strange pronounciation. "Yeah, inutition." "Yeah, I can tell you have..." "You need a grinding machine?" he then says out of the blue. "A grinding machine?! Er, not as far as I know, no...!" "Ah, too bad" he says, "because I have one right here!" and pulls a grinding machine out of his bag. "Well," I say, "thanks for the offer but I think I'll pass on it. Must go now..."

I've never seen the guy since, not as far as I can recall anyway. I wonder if he found some other late night roamer to unload his grinding machine...