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  • Category: Criminal/Illegal

    The Lawsuit Has A Ghost Of A Chance

    | OR, USA | Crazy Requests, Criminal/Illegal, Theme Of The Month

    (I’m just coming on shift in the emergency room. A patient approaches my desk, then leans over and glares down at me.)

    Patient: “I just want you to know that if I go home and die because of your substandard care that I’m going to sue you and never forgive the hospital.”

    (The patient doesn’t give me any chance to say anything before he walks out the door.)

    Coworker: “I wonder how many lawyers take on angry ghosts as clients?”

    Six Red Flags

    | TX, USA | At The Checkout, Criminal/Illegal, Liars & Scammers

    (Two customers come to my register with two baskets overflowing with groceries. They’re accompanied by four children between the ages of 4 and 11. The carts are loaded to overflowing with baby food and formula, diapers, expensive meats, cheese, beer, wine, sodas, and lots of frozen meals. They are extremely friendly and lay on the endearments quite heavily.)

    Me: “So, did you find everything okay tonight, folks?”

    Customer #1: “Oh, honey! Bless you! You bet we did, baby!”

    Customer #2: “Woooo! More than everything! Look at these steaks! These are gonna be great!”

    (The customers and their eldest two children load the first cart onto the belt. They take it, empty, to the end of my register to bag and load their groceries, since I don’t have a bagger. After several minutes, I finish ringing them up.)

    Me: “Okay. Your total comes to [large, triple digit sum]. How would you like to pay that today?”

    Customer #1: “By check. Let me write it up for you, honey.”

    (As the first customer writes the check, the rest of the group finishes packing the groceries. She finishes writing the check and hands it to me.)

    Me: “Okay, great. Can I see your ID to confirm a few details?”

    Customer #1: “Sure, honey. Sure.”

    (She opens her wallet and flips to the clear ID panel. The driver’s license inside looks really wrong.)

    Me: “Sorry. Do you mind if I remove the ID from the plastic to see it better?”

    Customer #1: “No, baby! Go ahead, sweetie! Help yourself!”

    Me: “Okay. Ah. Do you have another form of identification, ma’am?”

    Customer #1: “What’d you say, honey?”

    Me: “Another form of ID? A driver’s license or something?”

    Customer #1: “Honey, that IS my driver’s license.”

    Me: “Actually, no, ma’am. It’s a Six Flags ID. See? The back here says ‘not government issued ID’ and the ‘Texas’ holograms are just gold puff paint.”

    Customer #1: “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That right there IS my real ID, baby!”

    Me: “And your check has a few routing numbers scratched out—”

    (The customer suddenly snatches the check and ID out of my hands. The whole group bolts for the exit as I call for a manager. He commends me on catching them out and gets staff to put the items in the freezer for the time being. A few minutes later, I get a phone call on my register.)

    Me: “Hello. This is [Store Name], register 12. [My Name] speaking. How may I help you?”

    Cashier: “Hey, [My Name]. Can you get me [Assistant Manager]? I’ve got someone trying to pass a bogus check on gas and soda out here.”

    Me: “Does she have [Name] tattooed across her chest in a script font?”

    Cashier: “That’s her.”

    Me: “Stall her. Tell her the check’s jammed in the machine or something. I’m sending him out.”

    (I call the same assistant manager as before. The acting unit manager, loss prevention member, and the assistant manager book it out the door to the parking lot. By the time they arrive, the customer and her group had made a run for it, leaving the stolen check and fake ID behind. Police are called. We are questioned, and then told that the woman has no fewer than three warrants out for her arrest.)

    Went On A Jurassic Lark

    | Rapid City, SD, USA | Bad Behavior, Criminal/Illegal, Family & Kids, Top

    (I work at a geology museum. A woman and her son, who looks about five, walk in. The boy is entranced by the mammoths, dinosaurs, and marine reptile skeletons on display. The mother looks unimpressed, and is on the phone for most of her stay. Since the building is kept at a pleasant temperature, she drops her heavy coat off with me at the front desk. Later, I spot her heading for the exit.)

    Me: “I hope you had a good time at our museum. Did you have any questions before you go?”

    Mother: “I’m not interested in your stupid dinosaurs.”

    (She heads for the elevator, which is around a corner. I assume she has her child waiting there, since I can’t see him in the rest of the museum. Three hours later, I see her son wandering around the displays, looking lost. I rush over to him.)

    Me: “Hey, buddy. What are you doing here?”

    Son: *in the most heartbroken voice ever* “Have you seen mommy? I fell asleep.”

    Me: “I saw her a little while ago, bud. Why don’t you have a seat over here? Do you have your mom’s phone number, or a way to contact her?”

    (Fortunately, he has a list of emergency-contact numbers in a tiny wallet. I call the one labeled ‘Mom’ in blue crayon, after giving him some paper and colored pencils.)

    Mother: “Who is this?!”

    Me: “This is [My Name], from [Museum's Name]. We have—”

    Mother: “You d*** well better ship me my coat, you b****! That’s a $500 coat, and I’m already on the other side of the state!”

    Me: “You also left your son here, ma’am. And I don’t have a box in his size.”

    Mother: *after a brief pause* “You son of a b****! You should have told me I left my kid behind! It’s going to take me five f****** hours to get back there!”

    (I decided to end the call, and instead called the police department. The mother stormed in a little over four hours later, long after the museum is supposed to be closed. She had a nice long conversation with child-care services. Her son gave me a hug and thanked me for staying with him. I still have his drawing of a plesiosaur.)

    Getting All Hancocked Over A Benjamin, Part 2

    | Las Vegas, NV, USA | At The Checkout, Criminal/Illegal, Liars & Scammers, Money

    (I am a manager working the concession stand at a theater attached to a hotel/casino.)

    Cashier: *over radio* “Manager to register two.”

    (I head over. The cashier has a customer at her station who looks angry.)

    Me: “What can I do for you?”

    Customer: “Yeah, this b**** stole my money! I paid with a hundred and she only gave me change for a fifty! I want my f****** money back!”

    Me: “Alright. Did you see what she did with the bill?”

    Customer: “Yeah! She put it below the counter!”

    (We are only allowed to keep bills $10 and smaller in the till itself. All larger bills go into a lockbox right below the cash register. I walk behind the desk and point to the lockbox.)

    Me: “She put it in here?”

    Customer: “Yeah! Now give me the rest of my money!”

    (I unlock the lockbox and remove it from its position, placing it on the counter in front of the customer. I then open it to reveal three $20 bills, and one $50 bill, which is the last bill deposited.)

    Me: “Well, sir, it looks like the last bill deposited was a fifty. Is it possible you simply forgot which bill you paid with?”

    (At this point, I know he’s lying. The cashier is one of my best employees, and the evidence is stacked against him.)

    Customer: “NO! I PAID WITH A F****** HUNDRED! I WANT MY F****** MONEY!”

    Me: “Alright, sir. If you’re that adamant, I’ll call the casino’s security.”

    Customer: “Good!”

    Me: “I just don’t like calling them. They’re so harsh about fraud. I mean, they drag people into the back room just for TRYING…”

    (The color drains out of the customer’s face.)

    Customer: “That… that’s a myth…”

    Me: “I wish it were, sir. I wish it were. Let call them.”

    (I pull my radio up, but he stops me.)

    Customer: “You know what; it’s not worth the hassle.” *to the cashier* “Enjoy the tip, b****.”

    (The customer storms off as fast as he can towards his theater.)

    Related:
    Getting All Hancocked Over A Benjamin

    Only Slipping On The Truth

    | New York, NY, USA | At The Checkout, Criminal/Illegal, Health & Body, Liars & Scammers

    (It is about 11 pm in a grocery store. I am the supervisor on duty. It is just me, cleaning the customer service counter, and one cashier working a register. An elderly customer ambles up to the checkout lane.)

    Cashier: “Hey, ma’am. How are you tonight?”

    Customer: “Oh, I’m just- AHHHHHHHH!” *waves her arms dramatically and hops backwards.* “Oh, my gosh, honey. There’s a HUGE puddle of water there! Oh, I slipped. I think I hurt something! Oh, my hip!”

    Cashier: “Really? Are you okay?”

    Customer: “Oww, my hip! Oh, I think I strained something! Get me your manager right now!”

    (The cashier pages the manager to the register.)

    Manager: “Oh, my goodness, ma’am. What happened?!”

    Customer: “There was a huge puddle of water! I slipped and I hurt my back! Oh, gosh. It hurts!”

    Manager: *to cashier, who is wiping the floor with paper towels that are remaining suspiciously dry* “Ring up her groceries for me, please.” *to the customer* “Here, ma’am. Have a seat. Please, tell me exactly what happened.”

    Customer: “Oh, there was all this water, and I slipped like this.”

    (The customer makes exaggerated lunges, trying to demonstrate how she fell.)

    Customer: “Oh, it was awful. My hip hurts! Oh, I threw out my back! Oh, it hurts!”

    (The customer makes more movements an injured person would be quite incapable of making.)

    Customer: “I’ll be contacting my lawyer!”

    Manager: “I see. Here’s my store and my personal information. Please give me yours as well, and we’ll be in touch. I’m terribly sorry about this. I hope you make it home alright.”

    (The customer ambles out to her car, shouting ‘oh, my back!’ the entire way.)

    Manager: “I need written statements from both of you. Good thing we have this on camera.”

    Cashier: “Do you think she’ll sue?”

    Manager: “I hope so. I’m putting her a** in jail if she does.”

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