23 Ludicrous Stories About Irrational Recyclers!

| Right | September 27, 2020

Dear readers,

Today is National Crush Day! It’s not about those awkward butterfly feelings you get when that ~*special someone*~ walks by; it’s about crushing cans! Crush Day celebrates recycling and highlights the positive effects it has on the environment.

Here are 23 stories we’ve recycled from our archives about people who are too lazy, stupid, or selfish to recycle. And when you’re done reading these stories, maybe you can take your crush out to crush a few cans.


A Vicious Recycle – Once you start recycling, arson is only a few steps away.

Recycling His Way Of Thinking – You will pay for your stupidity. Well, someone will.

Always Time For A Rhyme – One good rhyme deserves another.


Anxiety Is Building

, , , | Right | September 27, 2020

We only have a bathroom for employees, but just around the corner is another store where people can use the bathroom and no one ever fusses about that.

It’s a slow night and I’m with my coworker. She’s new, and while I’ve worked there for quite some time, I never know how to react to weird customers. An elderly man comes in.

Me: “Hi there. How can I help you?”

Customer: “I don’t need anything; I just wanna go to the bathroom.”

Me: “Sorry, our bathroom is for employees only, but you can head around the corner to [Other Store] and use theirs!”

The customer is heading straight toward the curtain that separates the store from the back.

Customer: “I’m the owner of this building. Let me use the bathroom.”

I am really confused, because I don’t actually know who owns the building. I know who owns the store, and I know all my bosses, but I’ve got no idea if the building is rented or bought.

Me: “Uh. Sorry, our bathroom is for employees only!”

Customer: “I’m not a customer! I’m the owner of the building!”

I am wondering if I should block him physically, but my coworker and I are both tiny girls and he’s about sixty years old and way taller and heavier than both of us.

Me: “I know the owner of the store, and you’re not her!”

Customer: “I’m the owner of the building!

He walks straight into the back. I’m kind of frozen, just exchanging looks with my coworker. I really don’t think that they’re actually the owner, but I don’t KNOW.

Customer: *Coming back out* “See, that wasn’t so hard. Next time I come in, you’ll know who I am.”

Me: “…”

The customer walked out. I ran into the back to check if our valuables were still there. He left the light in the bathroom on and the door wide open, which is strictly against store policies. I have no idea who he was, but I’m about 99% sure he was just a random guy. I never saw him again.

Stuck On The First Letter

, , , | Right | September 27, 2020

My very first job after graduating is at an office within a courthouse where people can get their official documents pertaining to their lawsuit or verdict. Mostly, they need a version of the official verdict that they can take with them — the original always stays in the archives — e.g. a verdict wherein the judge says that their insurance does have to pay them, which they can then use to take steps to receive this payment.

One day, a little old lady shuffles into our office, and when I ask what I can help her with, she pushes forward an envelope and says, “Letter.” She has an obvious accent, but that’s nothing new, and usually, I can work around the fact that people might not speak Dutch very well.

But it soon becomes very clear she only knows this one word: “Letter.”

I can see the letter she’s given me is from an insurance company, but she is unable to answer any of my questions so I don’t know how I can help her. Even asking if I can read it doesn’t get me any other response than her pointing at the letter. So, I read it in the hopes that there are instructions in it and that they are asking for her to bring a certain document, which I can then provide.

But there’s no such thing; it’s about something completely unrelated.

I try suggesting she come back with a translator, but of course, she doesn’t seem to understand that, either. I decide to make her the most common document mostly used for insurance cases and she seems happy with it, so I think that’s that.

The next day. “Letter.”

Yup, there she is again, with that exact same letter. No translator, nothing. I try my best to show her examples and work around the language barrier, but she doesn’t get any of it. I decide to make another type of document, thinking maybe it was the wrong type.

The next day. “Letter.”

At this point, I’m lost. I get a second opinion from several coworkers — even though they work at totally different services and don’t know as much about our documents — just to see if they can understand. Nope. The only other thing I can do is just give her a copy — which has no “value” or use at all, short of reading what’s on it — and besides, she would have already gotten a copy by letter when the verdict came out, so I cannot imagine it’ll help. Again, she seems happy and leaves.

The next day… you get it.  “Letter.”

I try to say as clearly as I can that I have given her every document she could possibly get from us, and I can do nothing else. She does not move and just repeats, “Letter,” every once in a while.

My patience has finally worn out, so I just say, “There is nothing I can do with that letter. I have given you everything we can. I can no longer help you. Bye!” I even make a point to wave goodbye and just go sit at my computer and begin working on something else. 

She stands there for a minute, during which I pretend she isn’t there, until she finally shuffles away. 

At least I haven’t seen her since!

Sugar Never Tasted So Sour

, , , , , | Right | September 27, 2020

I’ve been out of the workforce for about a decade, due to illness and staying home with kids. I recently decided to try part-time work at a friend’s cafe. Since I just started, my boss has been in training and helping me. 

In walks a woman who seems a bit flustered.

Customer: “Do you have something like iced coffee?” 

Me: “Yes, we do!” 

Customer: “And can I get… caramel in it?” 

Me: “You sure can!” 

Customer: “Great. And cream and sugar.” 

We are a small cafe. We provide cream and sugar, but we never add it in. My boss steps in.

Boss: “We have cream and sugar down at the end here, and you can add it in yourself.”

She seems satisfied, so I tell her the total.

Customer: “And you mixed in the cream and sugar?” 

I can see my boss twitching, so I try to help.

Me: “No, we provide the cream and sugar for you to add. That way you’ll have it exactly as you like.”

Customer: “So you don’t mix any of it?”

Me: “Oh, yes, we will mix in the caramel, just not the cream and sugar.”

Customer: “So I have to do everything myself?! Does it come with sugar?”

Now this woman seems to be getting visibly distressed. I’m confused at what to do, but I keep trying.

Me: “We will mix together your coffee and the caramel. There is sugar in the caramel.” 

Customer: “Okay, but what about the sugar?!”

Me: “Would you like us to add sugar for you and mix it in?”

This is not our policy, but this lady is freaking out, and my boss is frustrated. It’s taking way longer than it should, and we are not understanding her request. 

Customer: “NO! I just want the cream and sugar!” 

Customer: “Right. So we will mix in the caramel, and you can add cream and sugar at the end.” 

Customer: “And what about the sugar?! What’s the point? I could’ve done this myself. I’m just so confused at this point. Just give me the coffee.” 

I’m still trying, because this woman mentioned she lives across the street, and that usually means repeat customers.

Me: “I’m trying to understand what you’d like. We can mix in sugar for you, and the caramel is already mixed in.”

Customer: “I have no idea what’s going on. I’ll just take it.”

We have no idea what’s going on, either.

She finishes adding whatever she adds, and I find coffee all over our counter.

Boss: “Yeah, it was probably that crazy lady who has never seen a coffee shop in her life. I don’t need her to come back.”

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A Big Mayo No No, Part 6

, , , , , , | Right | September 27, 2020

Shops have started to open up after the quarantine, so I treat my family to their first take-away in months. The hype is unbelievable with queues at every store and traffic jams all over the city. It’s like they are giving the food away.

I stop by a walk-in sandwich shop a few days later. Inside, I see two women at the counter who both seem to be in their twenties. As I join the queue, it seems that the first is finished and the second is choosing her salad.

Woman #2: “No salad.”

Worker: “None at all?”

Woman #2: *With heaps of attitude* “Uh, no! Mayo! I want mayo on that.”

Worker: “Mayonnaise, okay.”

Woman #2: “More. More!”

The worker dutifully fills the sandwich with mayonnaise; at this point, it looks more like cake frosting. A thick layer covers nearly all of the meat and cheese. It looks disgusting and I must be staring, as the second woman glares at me.

Woman #2: “Hey, [Woman #1], you want a cookie?”

She glares at me again.

Woman #1: “Yeah, get me one.”

Woman #2: *Insincerely* “Oh, no! They only have six left! Oh, well, some people won’t be getting any at all.”

She looks at me like she has won some grand scheme.

Woman #2: “Give me allll six.”

They leave, cackling. I turn to the other worker to pay, utterly bemused.

Worker: “Did you want a cookie? I have more to put out; we didn’t have a chance yet.”

Me: “Not really, thank you. I’m not sure what that was about.”

Worker: “Oh, they come in quite regularly. The one on the left, [Woman #2], scoops the extra mayo out with the cookie and eats it like a dip!”

I got my food and left. I wish I had chosen anything other than mayo.

A Big Mayo No No, Part 5
A Big Mayo No No, Part 4
A Big Mayo No No, Part 3
A Big Mayo No No, Part 2
A Big Mayo No No

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