Her Death Threats Are Going Down The Toilet

, , , , | Right | April 22, 2019

(I’m working the third shift at a gas station. You have to have a key to unlock our bathroom. Someone either stole the key or misplaced it yesterday, as it is nowhere to be found, and I’m informed of this when I clock in. My coworker, whose husband owns the restaurant attached to our station, gives me the key to the back door to use if I want to lock up and use the restroom at any point. I don’t use public bathrooms unless it’s a necessity, though, so it won’t really be necessary. So far, everyone I’ve explained the missing key to has been okay with it and made no complaints or arguments, until this fine young woman walks in close to the end of my shift.)

Customer: “Can I get the key to your bathroom?”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, I haven’t been able to find it all night; someone either lost or misplaced it.”

Customer: “I just used it the other day. Why are you lying?”

(I’m kind of taken aback at this, as no one has been hostile about it.)

Me: “Yes. Apparently, it was lost some time today, and I don’t have a key until the manager comes in at six.”

Customer: “I’m calling corporate right now on your a**! I know you are lying, you racist [flurry of actual racist words and cursing]! They’ll know if your bathroom is actually locked and where your key is, and they’ll tell me!”

Me: *in overly-nice customer service tone* “Sure, you are welcome to do that, ma’am.”

Customer: “You are just plotting against me because I’m black and you don’t want me to use your white-privilege toilets! How do you use the bathrooms if you are here all night?!”

Me: “I don’t use public restrooms unless it’s an emergency, ma’am.”


(She stood there for a good twenty minutes, tapping away on her phone, never making a call, and then she stormed around the store continuing to shout that she was calling corporate. She finally came up to the register to pay for her one item, still screaming at me that I was plotting against her, and on her way out she threw her trash on the floor, knocked over the trash can, and threatened to kill me. I informed my manager about it in the morning, who told me to just call the police if she tried to come in again. She also phoned the woman’s workplace and informed her boss of what had happened. She worked across the street — where they have a bathroom, by the way — and my boss is friends with her boss, it turns out. I knew her name and job because she had her uniform and name tag both on. You probably shouldn’t be making death threats while wearing those. I’m still not sure exactly why she thought corporate would know about one of the bathrooms, either, in the thousands of stores they own worldwide, or what they would do about it.)

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