Adding Insulin To Injury

| Working | November 13, 2013

(I am 25 years old and in a grocery store buying a bottle of fruit juice and a bottle of wine. I also have a packet of chocolate for my diabetes.)

Clerk: “ID please.”

(I get it out. The clerk looks at it oddly.)

Clerk: “I’m sorry; this is fake.”

Me: *surprised* “It IS real.”

Clerk: “This can’t be you.”

(I look EXACTLY the same in my ID, and I’m even wearing my hair the same way and the same color shirt.)

Clerk: “I’m calling the cops. I should really just get my manager but you’re probably gonna try it again.”

(As he gets the police on the phone and I think this is stupid, he motions for me to empty my bag. I take out my purse and fruit juice but leave the chocolate.)

Me: “The police will show you it’s real.”


Me: “What?”

Clerk: “I saw something shiny in your bag.”

(The clerk puts his hand out and talks to me like I’m a child.)

Clerk: “Come on, let me see and I won’t charge.”

Me: “It’s my chocolates. I HAVE to have them!”

(The clerk reaches in my bag and snatches them, putting them behind the counter.)

Clerk: “I’ll have that, thank you. You’re paying $2.85 for these.”

Me: “They REALLY are mine.”

(I start to feel woozy, and know I need sugar. I start to panic.)

Me: “Please, they’re for my diabetes.”

Clerk: “You can have them when you pay.”

Me: “Listen, you don’t even SELL [Brand] of chocolates. Look on the shelves; you won’t have them!”

(The police finally arrive. I feel really bad and scared, because I could have a sugar rush.)

Officer: “What’s this about a stolen or fake ID?”

Clerk: “THAT!” *holds ID* “It isn’t her! It’s obvious!”

Officer: “This does look remarkably like her. No, I am almost a hundred per cent CERTAIN this is her.”

Me: “Please… I need sugar.”

Clerk: “Well, she was trying to shoplift these.”

(The clerk holds up the chocolate. I try and snatch one, but he pulls them away.)

Clerk: “See? She’s such a dimwit shoplifter; she’s trying to steal them in front of you and the camera!”

Me: “Officer, they don’t sell [Brand] here.”

(The policeman goes to the candy aisle and looks for the brand. He frowns and comes back. I am desperate by this point.)

Officer: “Did you tell him?”

Me: “Yes, and I have diabetes. I need them.”

(The officer suddenly looks serious and turns to the clerk.)

Officer: “Did she tell you she had diabetes?”

Clerk: “Yes, but—”

Officer: “Just give them to her before I arrest you! She’s ill! Even if she was stealing these chocolates, I’d let her have one! She’s showing symptoms!”

(I never went back to that store!)

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