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    Rated ‘M’ For Mother

    | PA, USA | Family & Kids, Technology, Top

    (I decide to stop at my favorite video game store at the mall the very day that the final entry to an insanely popular video game trilogy is released. It’s reasonably crowded due to this and nearly everyone in the store is purchasing this game.)

    Customer #1: *speaking loud enough that half the store can hear her over the chatter* “This is the game he wants?”

    Customer #1’s Husband: “Yeah. He has the other two, so I told him we’d get it.”

    Customer #1: “What’s this rated?” *she looks at the back* “There’s blood and violence in this! I’m not buying our son a murder simulator! He’s going to think it’s okay to shoot people!”

    (That part of the store gets quiet quickly and everyone who heard what had been said turns to look at her, some of them holding a copy of the game of which she was referring.)

    Customer #2: “Ma’am, I respect your decision not to buy your son something you feel is inappropriate for him and applaud you for looking into things before you buy them for him, but I’d like to point out that it’s generally not a good idea to vocally imply a room full of strangers are murderers for liking a game.”

    Customer #1: “Oh… um… sorry…”

    (She couldn’t have gotten out of there quick enough. The rest of the store laughed and things quickly went back to normal. A few minutes later, her husband comes back to buy the game.)

    Employee: “Oh, are you the one who was in here with that woman earlier? You’re buying this for your son, right? I trust you’re already aware that this game is rated ‘M.'”

    Customer #1’s Husband: “Yeah. You don’t have to give me the spiel about that, though. She forgot that he’s 23…”

    God Loves Little Boys Who Stand Up For Others

    | Bath, England, UK | At The Checkout, Bigotry, Family & Kids, Top

    (I and my seven-year-old son are shopping for a birthday present for a girl in his class. She’s asked for dressing up clothes or accessories so we get a wand, tiara, and jewellery. I also have our regular shopping in the trolley. We get to the tills and there’s at least a three person queue at each till. We join a queue and have waited a couple of minutes when my son puts the tiara on and waves the wand.)

    Son: *in a “posh” voice* “I’m the Queen and I say this line should move faster!”

    (I and a few others smile at his playfulness when a man in line at the next till yells at me.)

    Man: “You can’t let your son do that. If he turns into a f****t it’ll be your fault.”

    (Everyone stops and stares at him in horror whilst the cashiers call for a manager.)

    Son: “What’s a f****t?”

    Me: “It’s a nasty word that only nasty people use so you mustn’t say it.”

    Man: “It means gay, kid.”

    Son: “What’s gay?”

    Man: “It means you’re bad and going to Hell for being evil.”

    Me: “It’s when a man loves a man and a lady loves a lady.”

    Son: “Oh, like Uncle James and Uncle Ian?”

    Me: “Yep, just like Uncle James and Uncle Ian. They’re not bad, are they?”

    (My brother is a paediatric oncologist and his partner is a paediatric nurse. We’ve tried to explain what cancer is and how my brother and his partner make children feel better when they’re poorly.)

    Son: “My uncles make children better when they have poorly blood and poorly bones. If you make them go to Hell that means you want the children to be poorly.”

    (The manager and a security guard turn up but my son looks this man in the eye and holds his stare.)

    Son: “Do you want the children to be poorly? Do you want them to be sick and have to go to Heaven?”

    (Everyone is now staring at my son. The man has gone red and is looking around.)

    Manager: “Sir, I believe you’ve just been outwitted by a child. You should leave now and keep your disgusting views to yourself and out of my shop.”

    (The manager offered to pay for our shopping but I declined. He did, however, offer my son a toy. He chose a dress for his friend’s present.)

    Related:
    God Loves Little Girls Who Stand Up For Others

    A Total Brazil Nut

    | France | Food & Drink, Geography, Language & Words, Top

    (Every year I work at a local fair as a waitress, at a travelling Brazilian restaurant. I am not a native, but my Portuguese is perfect. A Brazilian woman, accompanied by a French friend, sits at one of my tables and interrupts other customers while I finish taking their orders.)

    Customer: *in Portuguese* “YOU! Come serve me right now! I’m starving. I am Brazilian, you know! Brazilians eat a lot. We are not like these skinny French people who don’t eat a thing. These French people can wait. I can’t!”

    (After explaining her the different formulas she can choose from, she goes for all you can eat beef.)

    Me: “I will only serve the side dishes, and the meat slicers will cut prime beef into a plate whenever you want it.”

    Customer: “My friend doesn’t want to eat; just a cocktail, because she is French, and these people don’t eat like Brazilians.”

    (Her friend confirms it to me in French. When her plate and the friend’s cocktail are ready I start serving her the side dishes.)

    Customer: *yelling* “What is this? Are you putting me on a diet? This is NOT what I had ordered! I wanted all you can eat beef and you are not serving me meat! This is outrageous! If this were Brazil, you’d be fired straight away!”

    Me: “I am sorry; maybe I haven’t explained myself very clearly. I am just serving the side dishes, and the gentlemen other there will come straight to your table and cut beef right into your plate.”

    Customer: “I have another HUGE problem. Look at my friend; she’s got nothing to eat. This is so rude of you; you have only served her a drink. She may be one of those skinny French, but she has the right to eat you know! This is clearly not Brazil! What part of Brazil are you from to be such a bad waitress?”

    Me: “I am sorry; I’ll bring food to your friend right away. And I am not actually Brazilian. I am a local.”

    Customer: “Why would they dare employ a non-Brazilian? This is outrageous! French people are just NOT qualified to work here.”

    Me: “Well, you hadn’t noticed my accent until now, so it means my Portuguese is good enough to work here. Besides, I’ve lived in Brazil, I am married to a Brazilian, and I am also a certified samba instructor, so it is not as if I didn’t know anything about your culture.”

    Customer: “I can’t believe this! This is a scandal! You are not Brazilian! You are such a bad waitress! Call the boss; I’ll make sure you’ll get fired because you are not Brazilian! You can’t possibly know how to serve us. You are a disgrace to my country!”

    (I refused to continue serving her. When she finished eating, she made a scandal at the checkout. While leaving, she met the restaurant’s boss, and told him that the service had been horrible, that I had been rude to her, and that French people shouldn’t work at such a place. She also complained about the ‘fat b****’ she had to deal with at the checkout. The boss replied that no one had ever complained about the quality of my service, and that the ‘fat’ woman at the checkout was his pregnant wife. He told her to never dare come back again, and insulted her in front of a bunch of laughing Brazilians.)

    No Kidding About The Kid, Part 2

    | NY, USA | Bad Behavior, Criminal/Illegal, Family & Kids, Top, Transportation

    (The store I work at is on a busy street with a lot of bars and very little available parking, so a lot of non-customers will illegally park in our lot despite the numerous signs. A tow company comes by on the busier evenings and take the cars of those not in the store to their lot. I often have to handle irate people who are angry about their car being towed and the release charges. At about 11:30 pm, a woman stumbles into the store, obviously inebriated, and demands to know where her car is.)

    Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but if you were not in our store while your car was parked in our lot it was most likely towed.”

    Her: “Are you f****** kidding me? I was only gone two hours… What gives you the right to take my car?!”

    Me: “Well, per our signs in the lot, you cannot park there unless you are patronizing our store. It was a tow company that took your car.”

    Her: “This is bullshit! You crooks took my car and I bet my iPad will be missing from it, too!”

    Me: “I doubt that, but here is the number of the tow company for you to call.”

    Her: “Ugh, my kids are probably still in there, too!”

    Me: *praying I’ve misheard her* “Excuse me, did you say YOUR KIDS?!”

    Her: “Yeah. God d*** it; this is f****** unbelievable!”

    Me: “Sure is… Tell you what; I’ll call the company for you because you seem a little upset.”

    Her: “Yeah, DO THAT. It’s your job!”

    (I called the tow company to ask if they’d found her kids. They had, recently, and had them warming up in the office. It is late February.)

    Me: “Hey… can you write down your name and plate number in case your, um, iPad is missing?”

    Her: “D*** right! You’ll hear from my lawyer if it isn’t!”

    (As soon as she left in a cab, I called the police and explained the situation. They met her at the tow lot and arrested her.)

    Related:
    No Kidding About The Kid

    Bigotry Is Not On The Menu

    | New Orleans, LA, USA | Bad Behavior, Bigotry, Food & Drink, Top

    (A few years ago I was working as a hostess in a restaurant. One night, two men come in and ask for a table. I lead them to an available one.)

    Older Man: “We can’t sit at this table.”

    Me: “I’m sorry. Is there something wrong?”

    Older Man: “We just can’t sit here; move us somewhere else.”

    (I’m confused, as the table I was seating them at was actually our most popular one. I start walking toward a manager to ask where I should move them, when the two young, clean, nicely-dressed men at the next table happen to get up to leave.)

    Older Man: “It’s okay! We can sit here now!”

    (I realize this guy assumed the two young men were gay, and could apparently not eat in their vicinity. I relate what happened to my (gay) manager and the (straight) server.)

    Manager: “[Server], you’re only allowed to talk to these guys as if you’re the gayest person on this planet.”

    (I will never forget the look of horror on the men’s faces when the server, a huge, beefy black man, started telling them the specials while sounding like a drag queen.)

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