Stupid people

I had to give a couple’s massage today with a new girl at work. Couple’s massage’s are when two people get massaged at the same time in the same room.

Me and the new girl walk into the empty couple’s room to prep it before our clients arrived. I spotted a dime sitting morosely on the corner table doing nothing and belonging to no one. How did it get there? Who left it? Who the hell care’s, right? Wrong! Apparently the new girl cares.

Just so we’re clear on this, I’m talking about ten cents. A dime. Not $5, not even a dollar. No, ten cents.

Me – “I’m taking this!” I say with brute force and ridiculous hostility.

The new girl looks up from her paperwork and see’s me holding up my prize.

New girl – “Uhhh….”

Me – “It was right here.” I slid it back to it’s original location.

New girl – “Oh.” She say’s dumbfoundedly, like the dime was not a dime at all but a prosthetic leg left behind, or something equally confusing.

Me – “You don’t think anyone would mind me taking it, do you?”

New girl says with a straight face – “Well, I don’t care if you take it, but you shouldn’t tell anyone you took it.”

WTF? I pictured myself bragging to my fellow coworkers of my mischievous shenanigans of stealing a dime in the couple’s room while no one was looking.

Me – “Soooo, you’re saying that I should leave the dime here? Where I found it?”

I put the dime next to the alarm clock and stared at it. New girl also stared at it. The room was quiet. I looked back at New girl.

New girl – “I won’t tell anyone you took it, you can take it.”

She does that little head shake wobble thing people often do when trying to gain trust in others.

People are fucking stupid and it makes me crazy!!

I had my stupid moments, but nothing quite on that caliber. One time while I was waitressing, in the weeds busy as hell, I stood at a large table of 6-8 people taking their sweet-ass time ordering.

Me – “Maybe I should come back when you’re ready?”

The table – “No no, we know what we want.”

One lady at the table – “I have too much acid in my stomach. I need something non-acidic.” She say’s this into her menu. Then she looks up at me and asks, “Do you have any non-acidic juice?”

What the hell is non-acidic juice? Perhaps she said non-hasidic jews? It sounds very similar.

Me – “Milk?”

The whole table flares up in uproarious laughter.

Me – “Prune juice? I don’t know of any non-acidic juice. I’ll go ask the bar.”

I scurried away like a wounded cockroach. I still don’t know what non-acidic juice is.

And last month one of my clients told me she was getting a pap test.

Me – “Do you have to study for it?”

I didn’t hear her correctly. I didn’t hear the “pap” part because she was talking into the face cradle. She seemed a little let down that she was talking to an idiot.

That’s actually a ” Yo Mamma” joke.

Yo Mamma so stupid she tried studying for a pap test.

20080718 - Post-Construction Party #1 - (by Ch...

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Filed under humor, journal, rant

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