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    Category: Awesome Workers

    Admitting Defeat Was An Easy Thing Touché

    | Boston, MA, USA | Awesome Workers, Criminal/Illegal, Top, Wild & Unruly

    (The owner of the bookstore where I work is very old and walks with a cane. Despite this, he always wanders the shelves and helps out patrons. Behind the counter, in a glass case, he keeps an assortment of trophies and medals he won in his youth. One night, someone decides to try to steal them.)

    Owner: “I’m sorry, but you can’t be behind the counter.”

    Robber: *smashing the glass* “F*** you, old man! Just stay away and don’t do anything stupid!”

    (The robber sweeps the medals into his backpack and then tries to open the till.)

    Owner: “Stop that, young man! You’re making a terrible mistake!”

    Robber: *waves a large knife* “Yeah, well so are you! Back off! How do you open this f***ing thing?”"

    Owner: “Take a look at all those medals.”

    Robber: “What? Just open the f***ing cash register!”

    Owner: *very calmly* “Just take a look.”

    Robber: *confused* “Uh, okay. Yeah, they’re gold. That’s why I took them, you a**hole. Gold fencing, gold fencing, silver fencing…”

    (The owner gracefully draws the sword from his sword-cane.)

    Robber: “Oh, please! Try that stuff in a real fight and you’ll just get kill—”

    (With a flick of his weapon, the owner removes the robber’s glasses.)

    Robber: *drops the knife* “Don’t hurt me!” *drops to his knees*

    (I had called the police as soon as the knife came out. They arrive and identify the robber as a serial burglar who had stabbed a previous victim. Years later, at the owner’s retirement party, he recounts the story.)

    Owner: “You know, hearing that story makes me think of two things. One, I wish a fencing judge had been there so I could have gotten the gold for that bout, and two, I missed the only time in my life when I could have asked someone if they called that a knife.”

    So Pho, So Crazy, Part 3

    | USA | Awesome Workers, Bigotry, Food & Drink

    (I work at a small snack bar in a sports center. We have just hired a new cook who is of Asian descent. I am on light duty, as I’d sprained my ankle the day before and the new guy stayed after he was scheduled to help. One of my regulars walks in, and when he sees the cooks he turns towards me with a disgusted look on his face.)

    Customer: “What’s this? Since when did you guys start hiring [racial slur]?”

    Me: “Excuse me?”

    Customer: “Who is this [racial slur] they’ve got in the kitchen now? You gonna start serving egg rolls or something?”

    Me: “Okay, number one, [coworker] is Vietnamese, not a [racial slur]. Not that it matters, because number two, he was born here, so therefore he’s an American. And number 3, I wish we would start selling egg rolls because [coworker] makes the best d*** egg rolls I’ve ever tasted. Now you can go buy your drink from one of the machines because your money isn’t welcome in here today.”

    (The customer stands there with his mouth open in shock for a minute before he turns on his heels and walks out. My coworker walks out as he is leaving.)

    Coworker: “Oh wow, what was his problem?”

    Me: “He’s just mad because I refused to serve him any egg rolls.”

    (Thankfully, the customer later approached my coworker and apologized.)

    Related:
    So Pho, So Crazy, Part 2
    So Pho, So Crazy

    I’ve Got That Drinking Feeling

    | Brisbane, QLD, Australia | At The Checkout, Awesome Workers, Criminal/Illegal, Food & Drink, Underaged, Wild & Unruly

    (I’m standing in line at the counter, when an obviously drunk and under-aged boy wanders in. The cashier behind the counter is onto him like a shot.)

    Cashier: “Excuse me there, champ. Have you got some ID on you?”

    Drunk teen: “No, I don’t. Why?”

    Cashier: “I’m going to have to ask you to leave my shop then, champ. Right now, please.”

    Drunk teen: “What, just because I have no ID?”

    Cashier: “Among other things, yes. You can’t prove you’re 18, and you’re clearly drunk, which means you’re not legally allowed to be in this store. Please don’t be difficult; just leave.”

    (The drunk teen makes his way to the exit peacefully, but once past the front door decides to act up.)

    Drunk teen: “Well, f*** you! F*** you and get f***ed! I’ll f***ing be here if I want to f***ing be here!” *flips both middle fingers at the cashier*

    (The cashier, who is far taller and broader than he appears while he’s behind the counter, moves into the doorway to prevent the teen re-entering.)

    Cashier: *very calmly* “No, you won’t. Now you’re becoming both an annoyance and a disturbance. You’d better get out of here quick smart, before something happens that you’ll regret later.”

    Drunk teen: “F*** you! I’m gonna bash you man! I’m gonna beat your face!”

    Cashier: *cracks up laughing* “Champ, I doubt you could even beat yourself off at this point.” *takes a step outside the shop* “Please though, take a swing. Give me the excuse.”

    (At this point it apparently dawns on the teen that’s he’s in way over his head and his attempt at intimidation has failed miserably. The cashier seems quite willing to make an example of him.)

    Drunk teen: “Uh… uh… I’m… I’m gonna hurt you man!”

    Cashier: *icily, dangerously calm* “No. You’re going to apologise to the customers for annoying them, you’re going to apologise to me for annoying me, and then you’re going to leave, very quickly, before I put my size 14s so far up your arse your kids are born with tread-marks on their faces, so help me God.”

    (The drunk teen starts to stammer out something, but is interrupted.)

    Cashier: *in a very convincing and menacing Bale-Batman voice* “Get the f*** out of here. Now!”

    (The teen flees at his top speed, bumping into and tripping over everything in his path. We all give the cashier a huge round of applause, and an elderly couple high-fived him!)

    Diolch yn fawr Very Much

    | Porthmadog, Wales, UK | Awesome Workers, Bigotry, Language & Words, Top

    (I am a customer in a store, queuing at a till being worked at by my friend. I always try to be polite, and if I see a customer has more groceries than me, or looks busier than me, or is elderly, I always offer them to take the place ahead of me when it’s my turn next at the checkout. I live in a Welsh-speaking area so normally ask in Welsh first, then repeat in English if the other person does not understand.)

    Me: *in Welsh* “Hello, sir. Would you like to go next to the till? I don’t mind waiting.”

    Elderly gentleman: *in English* “DID YOU JUST SWEAR AT ME?”

    Me: *in English* “Not at all, I was simply trying t—”

    Elderly gentleman: “I can’t stand you young Welsh people. You think that because you have your own private little language that you can just swear and joke about us tourists. I’ll tell you what, missy, I bet you don’t have a job, you’re probably on benefits. The only people who have jobs around here are here to support tourists like me, who come here out of the kindness of our hearts to inject some money into your miserable, pathetic little local economy. I’ll not have it! I deserve better!”

    (Hearing this, my friend and coworker speaks up in my defense.)

    Coworker: “Actually, sir, she was just asking if you’d like to go next in the queue. Because this isn’t the regular tourist season, she was asking in Welsh. And for your information, she is also English. She’s been learning since she got here to Wales as she thinks it is important to preserve the local heritage. Now, will you take advantage of this girl’s generous offer to go first and let everyone else get on with their day, or will I call a manager and ask you to leave the store owing to your somewhat racist behaviour?”

    (The customer goes red, and slides in front of me in the queue. My coworker would not finish his transaction until she had taught him to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ in Welsh.)

    Decent Society Hangs On A Knife’s Edge

    | Gas City, IN, USA | Awesome Workers, Top

    (I’m currently attending college in a very small town. I receive an assignment requiring me to carve a pumpkin. Finding proper tools turn out to be a challenge. I end up biking several miles over hilly country roads to a small hardware store in the next town over, so I arrive disheveled and over-heated. The place is empty save for a guy who seems to be the owner and an employee. Judging by the dust, they haven’t restocked anything since the 90s.)

    Employee: “Hi, can I help you find something?”

    Me: “Yes, I’m looking for something I could use to carve a pumpkin.”

    Employee: “Well, I’m afraid we don’t carry much household stuff. Have you looked in [other hardware store, some miles away]?”

    Me: “Actually, I biked here, so I haven’t gone anywhere else yet.”

    Employee: “Okay, well, we could try over here.”

    (Together, we scour the shelves of odd miscellaneous items, their formerly bright packaging faded with age.)

    Me: “Oh, well… I guess I’ll look over at your other tools there. Thanks for the help!”

    (I move off and begin looking at the main hardware section, without success. The owner comes up behind me. He’s tall, bearded, and somewhat imposing. He holds a somewhat rusty, large, serrated knife.)

    Owner: “Hey, how about you take this? It’s a drywall knife, and it should work well. I’ve got three of ‘em, so I won’t miss this one!”

    (Beaming, I accept his kind offer and bike home triumphantly. Kind people like that make the world a much more tolerable place!)


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