November Theme Of The Month: Black Friday!

Category: Wild & Unruly

She Has A Real Problem

| FL, USA | Bigotry, Top, Wild & Unruly

(I am at my regular grocery store at the checkout. The bagger is a sweet man with a mental disability, who is carefully bagging my items.)

Bagger: “You want this one?”

(He holds up one of my canvas bags, which I see has a hole in it.)

Me: “No, use another. Thanks.”

Woman behind me: “God! Hurry it up!”

Me: “I just finished paying. He’s fine.”

Woman behind me: “Oh, so you’re slow like him too? God all you special people need to stop interfering with normal people.”

Bagger: *looks offended* “Ma’am, she’s not not-smart. She goes to [University].” *points to my university logo on my sweatpants* “She’s real smart.”

Me: “And he’s the best bagger here! He’s very careful, ma’am, which is a good thing with groceries.”

(My bags are done. Since he knows I walk back to my dorm, the bagger just hands them to me and helps me shoulder them.)

Woman behind me: “God, he won’t even help you take them to your car? What a delinquent. I want to see a manager about this!”

Me: “I walk, lady. You want to call a manager over something I have intentionally asked him to do many times?”

Bagger: *to me* “Have a nice day!”

Woman behind me: “Retard.”

(The cashier, who hasn’t said a word through the whole thing, looks at the woman calmly.)

Cashier: “Refusal of service for massive discrimination towards a valued employee, as well as a regular customer. You may leave your items here; we’ll shelve them later. Please leave.”

(She instead decides to cause a massive disturbance, eventually breaking a shelf, and needing to be physically restrained while the bagger leads me and another customer behind the cigarette counter for our safety. We have to wait for a cop to come.)

Bagger: “Still… coming next week?” *he looks worried*

Me: “Yep.”

(His smile made me really happy for the rest of the day.)

Not The Sharpest Bigot

| AZ, USA | Bigotry, Top, Wild & Unruly

(I’m walking around the store seeing if any shoppers need help.)

Me: “Excuse me, sir, are you finding everything all right today?”

Customer: *turning* “Oh, what the f*** is this?”

Me: “Um… what is what?”

Customer: “I haven’t been helped by a single American since I got here. Are you people even hiring whites?”

(Our town has a regrettably accurate reputation for being somewhat racist. Customers often ignore non-white employees or refuse their aid. I’m of Indian descent, but was born and raised a few miles away in Phoenix.)

Me: “Sir, all our employees are American citizens. If you don’t need help, though, I’ll just go.”

Customer: “Hang on, where’s your manager’s office?”

(I point.)

Customer: “Good!”

(Without warning, he grabs my arm and drags me forcefully to the office. He pushes it open without knocking.)

Customer: “You need to arrest this man! He’s an illegal!”

(My manager turns in her chair. She’s got light brown skin, and is often mistaken for Hispanic.)

Manager: “Sir, I know for a fact [my name] is a citizen. And you need to take your hands off him right now.”

Customer: *not letting go* “Oh my God! They’ve got a Mexican in charge. No wonder you don’t hire whites!”

Manager: “Sir, more than half of my employees are white. Now let [my name] go or I will call the police.”

Customer: “Are you threatening me? I’m a real American, you can’t threaten me!”

(At this he pulls out a Swiss Army knife and points it at her.)

Manager: “No, I’m not. Would you like me to?”

(Without warning, she draws a knife of her own from nowhere and slams it point-first into the desk.)

Manager: “That’s one. I’m carrying nine. Let him go.”

(The customer goes pale and releases both my arm and the knife.)

Manager: “Thank you.”

(Instead of letting him go, my manager locked him in the office and called the police, who came and arrested him for assault and threatening with a weapon. As they were leading him out, my manager stopped him for a moment.)

Manager: “And by the way, I’m not Hispanic, I’m Romani. If you’re going to be a racist, at least learn the difference.”

Belly Rubbed And Snubbed

| MI, USA | At The Checkout, Wild & Unruly

(I work at a department store as a cashier. I also have a medical condition where I must take a heavy amount of steroids, and a side effect of this is that I’m a bit chunky. I’m ringing up a customer.)

Me: “Hi, did you find everything okay?”

Customer: “Oh, my dear, how can they force a woman in your condition to stand at a cash register all day? Your ankles must be so swollen! When are you due?”

(Suddenly, she reaches across the counter and rubs my belly, totally invading my personal space.)

Me: “In about five years, after I finish college, get married, and get a job that pays above minimum wage. I’m fat, not pregnant, lady. And I do not remember giving you permission to put your hands on my body.”

(The customer turns beet red, mumbles something, and abruptly leaves all her merchandise on the counter. I get a round of applause from the rest of the customers in line.)

Next Customer in line: “I would have hit her if I were you.”

Children Are A Stressing

| Kansas, USA | Family & Kids, Wild & Unruly

(At the day care where I work, I have one kid who screams for absolutely no reason. He also has been known to become violent in a short amount of time. In this particular instance, a parent has arrived to pick up her own child while the kid is livid.)

Parent: *walks in smiling* “How’s your day going?”

Me: *smiles back* “Not too bad! Yours?”

Parent: *glances at child* “I’m just glad it’s almost Friday.”

Me: “Yeah, me too.”

(Suddenly, the kid picks up a chair, and throws it against the wall while letting out a monstrous scream, scaring not only this parent, but two other parents, the rest of the children, and myself.)

Parent: *stares at the kid and looks back at me* “God bless you!”

Seeing Red

| NY, USA | Food & Drink, Wild & Unruly

(Two customers approach the concession stand.)

Customer: “I’d like a small red slushie.”

Me: “All right, I’ll be right back with that!”

(I go around the corner and try to get him his drink. The machine is working poorly, and I can’t get anything to come out. I pull the lever as hard as I can, with no success.)

Me: *to my manager* “I think we have a problem.”

(As soon as I say it, the slushie explodes out of the machine, covering me from head to toe and spreading over about a third of the concession stand. I stand there dumbfounded for a moment, then grab a paper towel, wipe off the cup, and bring it back around to the customer, who is obviously trying not to laugh.)

Me: *to his friend* “And can I get you anything?”

Customer’s Friend: *grinning* “Yes. A small red slushie, please!”