In my state, wearing a mask in any public building is required.

I go to the corner gas station that’s very popular with the local police because they give them free coffee. I go up to the counter to make my purchase and see that the two clerks don’t have their masks pulled all the way up. I’ve had some recent health problems, so politely, from behind my mask, I ask them before I approach:

Me: “Can you pull your masks up?”

They think I said, “Put your hands up,” and hit the panic button. The doors lock, and they bolt for the backroom while I’m having a WTF moment.

Now, as I’ve said, the place is very popular with the local police department, and there’s usually one or two cars there an hour. FOUR police cars arrive in thirty seconds; their precinct is a half-mile down the street.

They get out of their cars with guns drawn and shout at me to freeze, come to them, get on the ground, and other things I can’t make out from behind their masks. They also can’t get into the store because the doors are still locked and the cashier and supervisor aren’t coming out of the backroom because they think I’m robbing the place.

I get on the floor and stay there until the supervisor unlocks the door, holding a mop handle in my direction, and the cops swarm me and handcuff me while reading me my rights.

They start asking me my name, what I am doing there, etc. I’m still wearing my mask and one of them says he can’t understand me. I enunciate for them as clearly as I can while handcuffed.

Me: “I came up to the counter and asked them to pull their masks up as I have health problems.” 

It took another ten minutes of me repeating what I’d said before the cashier agreed that was what she’d thought I said and panicked. The supervisor panicked, too, and I ended up almost getting arrested because they couldn’t understand me. 

Enunciate, people. It might stop you from getting arrested. 

As a bonus, I got a free cup of coffee.

In the early 2000s, there was something of a fad where people buy outfits where every part of the outfit matched color — shirt, jacket, pants, even shoes in some cases. So, you’d see guys buying a red shirt to go with a red jacket or red vest, and red pants to match their red shoes. That kind of thing.

One customer came in, and after some wrangling, I’d managed to get a good sale out of him buying one of these “everything matches” outfits. He was pleased with himself, though moderately annoyed that we didn’t have shoes to match. Even so, he got some nice new white sneakers with it, so he left happy. He was a regular, and I struck up a conversation with him about it, as I’d never seen him put so much money down on just one outfit before. He explained that he was heading to Atlanta to see a friend and then hoped to hit up one or two of the clubs. All good.

Curiously, after that, I didn’t see him for a good month, to a month and a half. Normally, he was in there every payday, so I started to wonder.

All is revealed when he finally returns. I strike up a conversation with him, asking how his trip went.

Customer: “Terrible, man, just terrible.”

Me: *Innocently* “Clubs weren’t open or something?”

He shakes his head.

Customer: “Nah, that d*** outfit got me in trouble.”

My curiosity is piqued.

Me: “How so?”

Customer: “Got me put in jail. Took them two days to figure out the mistake, but by then, they found some old failure to appear warrant, and I ended up having to stay in there until the judge could finally dismiss the thing.”

I found myself marveling at this. How could an outfit get someone put in jail? That’s when it dawned on me.

Remember how I said everything had to match? Yeah… about that.

The guy had bought a bright orange shirt, bright orange vest, bright orange slacks, and bright white sneakers. At the time, Atlanta’s jails had inmates wear bright orange jumpsuits… and white shoes. It turned out that the day he went, there’d been an escape.

I guess the moral of the story is, don’t wear any clothing that makes you look like an escaped prisoner.

This story is part of our Best Of October 2020 roundup!

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Scammers have been spoofing phone numbers, usually starting out the same as my number and my town. Today, one such call comes in. I like messing with scammers, so I answer.

A recorded message plays some BS about my Social Security number being compromised.

Recording: “For assistance, press one.”

I press one.

Scammer: “Yes, hello?”

Me: *Fake worried* “Hello, um, you said my Social Security number has been compromised?”

Scammer: “Yes, you will have to pay [amount] to the Social Security office to restore your credibility.”

Me: “Oh. Can I take it to the office down the street? I can go tomorrow.”

Scammer: “No, you must pay over the phone now.”

Me: “Hmm, I guess. Out of curiosity, which one was it?”

Scammer: “I— What?”

Me: “Which one?”

Scammer: “I don’t… I don’t understand. Which one what?”

Me: “Which number?”

Scammer: *Annoyed* “Your Social Security number. Ma’am, I do not have time to play games. This is important.”

Me: “I know; that’s why I’m asking which one, so I know which one still works.”

Scammer: “You cannot have more than one Social Security number!”

Me: “Yes, you can.”

Scammer: “No! You must send money to—”

Me: “I’m just gonna wait and see what happens. Thanks for the heads-up.”

I hung up before he could say anything else. I’m sure it did nothing to deter him, but I know I annoyed him and wasted just a little bit of his time.

This story is part of the Phone Scam Payback roundup! This is the last story in the roundup, but we have plenty of others you might enjoy!

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I deliver a pizza to a motel and the customer is a drunk, condescending a**hole.

Customer: “Hey pizza boy, couldn’t get a smart-person job huh? Stay in school. How much is the pizza?”

Me: “$9.87.”

He hands me a $10 bill.

Customer: “Keep the change.”

As I turn to walk back to my car, I see that there is an extra zero on the end: he’d accidentally slid me a Benjamin ($100). I hauled a** to my car, and he must’ve figured it out because he starts yelling to me.

I just know he is going to call the store, so I hide the $100 bill in my car and replace it with a $10 from my own wallet. Sure enough, the manager is waiting at the door when I get back. I hand him my cash belt so he can count it and he finds that I’d made $15 in tips for the night so far.

Manager: “Sorry about that, [My Name]. I knew he was just a drunk a**hole but I had to check.”

If the customer had been halfway decent, I absolutely would have told him about the mistake. But treat me like a loser? Thanks for the tip!

Our mayor and our prefect decided to make masks compulsory in all the streets during the health crisis. The administrative court found the decree too restrictive and suspended it.

On Friday, I leave work at lunchtime with a friend because she comes to eat at my house and it is the day of the new, less restrictive decree.

Me: “Oh! Oh! We don’t need masks anymore for commuting! Our streets are no longer in the decree.”

I show the article on my phone.

Friend: “That’s good. I’m too hot; I’ll take it off!”

I decide to keep my mask on anyway.

On the way, we come across two policemen.

Policeman #1: *To my friend* “The absence of a mask is a 135-euro fine!”

Friend: “It’s no longer obligatory in this street!”

Policeman #2: “What do you mean?”

I still have my phone. I find the article and show it to him.

Policeman #1: “Yes, but you have it!”

Me: “Yes, but it’s no longer an obligation!”

Policeman #2: *Rereading the article* “And the mayor says that, even in the streets where it’s no longer compulsory, he still recommends wearing it!”

Friend: “And you’re going to fine me for not taking a simple recommendation?”

The policeman finally stopped trying to give my friend the fine.

I can understand that the police are not informed; the article was published ten minutes before this at the most, and it is possible that there are communication problems between the hierarchy and the police officers in the field, but it is better to recognize when you make a mistake, rather than justify it in any way.