The Postman always rings twice…

Monday
“Do X and X live here?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, they left 11 years ago.”
“That’s very exact.”
“We bought the house from them.”
“Oh.”

Tuesday
“Do X and X live here?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, they left 11 years ago. We bought the house from them.”
“Oh. We had this conversation yesterday, didn’t we?”
“Yes we did.”

This morning
“X and X still don’t live here?”
“No change from yesterday.”
“No harm in asking.”

Things are not always as they seem…

“How’s work?”
“Meh.”
“Why?”
“I deal with unhappy people *all* day long.”
“So?”
“Crying. Screaming at me. Telling me all their problems. Threatening me. One even called me a ‘stupid bitch’ today.”
“But that must be rewarding in so many ways.”
“Huh?”
“I mean, don’t you feel good helping people?”
“Eh…what exactly do you think I do?”
“You’re a counselor or something?”
“Hell, no. I work in Customer Care.”

Compliment or insult? I’m not sure…

Pop to the village for groceries in my usual Sunday attire of tracksuit bottoms, runners, hoodie and no makeup. Random man stops me and says “Can I ask you a personal question? How do you look so easy?” I am horrified – “‘Easy’ as in ‘slut’?” I ask. The man is completely taken aback, starts spluttering apologies, that he doesn’t mean that at all. “No, you just look so beautiful with no makeup on, so natural. You make it look so easy, ” says he as he continues to apologise! I smile – uneasily – as I walk away…

Legal Eagles…

“Big case coming up.”
“What’s it about?”
“Can’t say. But what I will say is this – up to my *moobs* in prep work.”

<Beavis and Butthead guffaws>

“Where is it?”
“Reckon it’s the High Court. Not sure if we’re before a judge or judges.”
“When will you know?”
“On the day probably. Leads to a question though.”
“What question?”
“What’s the plural of judge? Judge or judges?”

<Say ‘No. I think you’ll find the plural of “judge” is Jedi’ I scream inside my head. Jedi. Jedi. Jedi!!!>

“Think it’s ‘judge’.”

<Oh, sweet Lord…!>