CoWorker #1: Give me some jelly beans.
CoWorker #2: Fuck you! (pause) And don’t call me jelly beans.
CoWorker #1: Give me some jelly beans.
CoWorker #2: Fuck you! (pause) And don’t call me jelly beans.
Customer: “I’d like 1 scoop of strawberry.”
Me: “Cup or cone?”
Customer: “Do you have any cones that are edible?”
Me: “All of our cones are edible.”
Customer: “Can I take it with me on the beach?”
Me: “All cones are entirely portable.”
Customer: “Do you have any that don’t crunch?”
CoWorker #1: Where did this ball come from? Is this your ball?
CoWorker #2: It’s not mine. I haven’t touched my balls in a long time.
I was working security in an art museum when I noticed a gentleman pointing at a 19th century oil with his finger almost touching the surface. I walked over and asked him politely (but firmly) to stay back from the art. Without moving his hand he turned to look at me and said “It’s okay, I am an artist.”
I had heard this one so many times that I was ready to retaliate, and this time I did. I pulled a pencil out of my pocket and held the point as close to his eye as his finger was to the painting and said “It’s okay, I am a writer.”
Then he got the idea and backed up.