Day One: Fine. Day Two: Attempted Kidnapping

, | Gothenburg, Sweden | Right | September 25, 2015

(I’m on my first internship at a hotel restaurant and have received good praise from the boss and the other workers. It’s my second day and since it’s late November, the restaurant is fully booked for various company’s Christmas parties. I’ve just turned 18 and I am legally allowed to serve alcohol to customers. My coworker instructs me what to do and warns me about how ‘free spirited’ the customers can (and will) be. They also tell me that I should report immediately if something happens. The first hour passes by fast and many of the guests are dancing in the middle of the floor. I go to pick up some of the plates from an empty table in one of the corners of the room when someone suddenly grabs my butt. I turn around and see a man around fifty-years-old.)

Me: “What are you doing?!” *I immediately respond and take his hands of my back*

Customer: “Don’t be such a heartbreaker, darling. I was just admiring your behind and couldn’t help myself.”

(He smirks jokingly. To my surprise he doesn’t seem drunk at all.)

Me: “Well, sir, I’m sorry to inform you but I feel very uncomfortable.”

Customer: “Well I have a suggestion that the two of us could move to a more quiet place and maybe get to know each other better.”

(Before I can respond the man proceeds to grab me and drag me out of the room. In my state of panic I catch a glance towards the kitchen door and see, on one of the female coworkers, a shocked face, and how she rushes through the door. The man just reaches the exit when the security chief, a tall and very muscular man, enters through the kitchen doors. He spots the man dragging me out and runs to us.)

Security: “And where are you going with our waiter? I suggests NOWHERE!”

(The entire room stopped and turned to us and the man became pale as a ghost, let me go, and then headed towards the exit. After the man ran away the boss came down and asked if I was all right. I was sent home early to get a good night’s sleep. The scary thing was that the man wasn’t even on the guest list. He had just entered the party without anyone’s permission!)

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Go Light On The American Polite

| Addlestone, England, UK | Right | September 25, 2015

(I working in a supermarket in England. I am a very friendly American; most people like it.)

Me: “Hello, how are you doing today?”

Man: “What are we, in America? There is no room for that crap here. Just shut up and serve me!”

Me: *shocked silence*

How Spiders Say Hallow

| Milwaukee, WI, USA | Right | September 25, 2015

(I am mildly arachnophobic, but have always been excited to see scary decorations every Halloween. I’ve never gotten to decorate my house before, so upon receiving a free set of fake spider web decorations, I decide I’m courageous enough to put them up and get a fake spider to go along with them. I go to a Halloween store to purchase a spider. I carefully stay away from the many moving spider props, and pick out a traditional furry spider with wire legs. When I go to purchase my spider at the cashier’s station, a large spider drops down from the ceiling into my face.)

Me: *gasps loudly and jumps a foot back* “Jesus Christ!”

Employee: *laughs* “Well, we know the props are doing their job!” *points up to the spider*

(The spider is on a string, and is a prop that I had noticed in the aisle, advertised to drop down from where it’s hung.)

Me: *sheepishly* “I’m arachnophobic.”

Employee: “Oh, gosh, sorry about that!”

(I was able to laugh it off along with the employee, but I still don’t know what I expected upon going into a Halloween store!)

I’m Sorry?

| Right | September 25, 2015

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His Manliness Is The Cream Of The Crop

| MD, USA | Right | September 25, 2015

(I am a customer waiting in line at a coffee shop:)

Server: “Good morning, sir. What can I get you?”

Guy Ahead of Me: *very gruffly* “I don’t know. I hate all these choices. Just gimme a plain, brewed coffee. Black. And don’t put any of that sissy stuff in it. I don’t want flavors or whipped cream or any of that crap.”

Server: *a little taken aback, but polite* “Okay, sir.”

Me: “I’d like a double, tall, non-fat latte and, because I’m secure in my masculinity, add some whipped cream.”

(She gave me a discount.)

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