Not In Line And Out Of Line

, , , , , | Right | August 10, 2017

(It is very busy at this store, where it is typically very busy as it is in a popular tourist spot. The staff is moving very quickly and the line is moving fast. I am waiting in line to buy something when this lady walks straight up to the counter, looks at me and the people in line behind me, and just goes straight for the cashier. I walk up to the counter and put my things down.)

Me: “Hi, I was next in line. Ma’am, the line starts back there.”

Woman: “Uh, no, I was actually next.”

Cashier: “Ma’am, I just saw you walk up here. Please wait in line.”

Me: *hands my things to the cashier*

Woman: “I WAS NEXT IN LINE!”

Me: “No, that would be me. Goodbye.”

(The guy who was right behind me chimes in.)

Man: “C’mon, lady. The line is moving fast. You don’t need to throw a tantrum because you got caught trying to cut.

Woman: “THIS IS F****** RIDICULOUS! I WAS NEXT IN LINE! YOU CAN’T JUST PRETEND LIKE I WASN’T STANDING HERE!”

(She then throws all of her items on the floor. She is so angry, she is completely red in the face.)

Cashier: *annoyed* “I’m calling security if you don’t leave right now.”

Woman: “I’M NOT LEAVING! I WAS NEXT IN LINE!”

(Security arrives quickly and it takes both of them to wrestle her arms down and drag her outside. She is literally kicking them and screaming at the top of her lungs. Everyone in the store just watches with their mouths wide open.)

Me: “Uh… so… that was something.”

Cashier: “She did the same thing earlier today. We told her not to come back. I didn’t recognize her right away. I’m sorry about that.”

Man: “Made my day more interesting!”

You Will Need To Sit Down For This One

, , , , , | Friendly | August 10, 2017

(I’m on spring break with my family in Chicago, visiting my favorite museum. We decide to eat lunch at nice cafeteria-style restaurant inside the museum. My dad grabs food for both himself and my mom so my mom can find us a table in the banquet-style seating, which is moderately busy. She places shopping bags and purses in 4 seats and puts out silverware and napkins for each of us. I’m the first one back at the table and I see an older gentleman starting to sit down at one of the places my mom laid out.)

Me: “Oh, excuse me, sir. I’m sorry, but my family and I are sitting here.”

Older Man: “No one is sitting here so I’m going to sit here.”

Me: “No, I’m sorry, but we had already planned to sit here and that’s why there are napkins and silverware out in these spots.”

Older Man: “I need to sit here.”

(We are at the middle of a banquet style table that has at least eight other seats open on either end.)

Me: “Sir, there are seats just down there that you can sit at. As you can see, my family is already sitting here.”

Older Man: “I need six seats! I have to sit here! You don’t get to tell me I can’t sit here when I sat down first. No one was sitting here when I sat down.”

(At this point he is alone, there is no one with him.)

Me: “Sir, there are six open seats right down there at the end of the table.”

(He moves over one seat, which is still one of the ones we were sitting at. At this point, a lot of people are looking at us because he is quite loud and me and my family are standing there, waiting.)

Me: “No, you need to move down at least one more.” *I’m losing my patience at this point* “Those are still our seats.”

Older Man: “You told me to move so I moved, god-d****t! I moved!”

Me: “We need these four seats here.” *motioning* “There are four of us.” *pointing to me and my family*

Older Man: “You said I could sit here!”

Me: “No, I said you could move down to those empty seats that no one is currently sitting in.”

(He grumbles insults at me for another minute while he finally moves. My family and I sit down and start to eat. I watch the people he was with finally show up and they make him get up and move to the other side of the table where they were already sitting. After a few minutes of him making a scene with them as well, they end up picking up and leaving him there alone. Then, a few minutes later, one of the museum associates approaches our table.)

Associate: *to my dad* “Excuse me, sir, could I see your receipt?”

(My dad hands it over and the associate walks away. We’re left wondering what’s going on, thinking we were maybe mis-charged for the wine my parents purchased at the bar or something. We were long past worrying about the old guy and his family at this point. The associate comes back after a few minutes and hands my dad his receipt back plus another receipt.)

Associate: “Here you are, sir. Have a good day.”

(He walked away before we had a chance to say anything. My dad looked at the new receipt and said he was refunded for the glasses of wine my parents bought, as well as for one of our meals. We tried to ask the associate why he did it, but he wouldn’t give us a full answer, other than thanking us for visiting, and we were left to assume that he had witnessed the exchange between me and the old man and it was a way for the museum to apologize for the difficulty. Still my favorite museum!)

Earning That Smile

, , , , | Right | August 9, 2017

(I’m giving out sample cups of French onion dip and carrots in a grocery store. I’m mixing more dip in a bowl on my table when I hear a woman’s voice say “You aren’t smiling enough!” and she flicks the brim of my hat.)

Me: *unsure I heard her correctly* “What?”

Cranky Lady: “I said you don’t smile enough.” *grabs and yanks my hat down over my face* “Are you gonna smile now?”

Me: *I adjust my hat and say in a cheery tone* “Smiles are for people who take samples.” *attempts to give her one*

Cranky Lady: “I don’t want any of that bull-s***.” *walks away*

Me: “…”

Throwing Change Brings About Change

, , , , , | Right | August 8, 2017

(I work morning shifts at a very popular fast food restaurant. As usual, our drive-thru is pretty backed up, and it takes a couple minutes for cars to reach the first window. This exchange happens during our rush, at about eight am.)

Me: “Ok, so your total will be [amount].”

Driver: “Well, here you go.” *hands me three handfuls of change* “You have your work cut out for you!”

Me: “No worries!”

(I start counting the change. He tries to pull forward.)

Me: “Excuse me, but I have to keep you here until I finish counting, to make sure that it’s all here.”

Driver: *condescendingly* “Good luck stopping me.”

(He tries to “poke fun” by pretending to start pulling forward. This happens so often, I don’t even react, because the minute they pull away I can radio the front and tell them not to give him his food until I’m done.)

Me: “So, it looks like you’re actually missing a dollar.”

Driver: “Are you sure?”

Me: “Yes.” *I then make a point of counting his payment again, out loud, showing that he’s a dollar short*

(He mutters a bit and digs around again, with some help from his passenger.)

Driver: “Here. Here’s your f****** money!”

(He then proceeds to throw about $1.16 at me, all in change. Most of it hits m in my face, shoulder, and chest. Luckily I am wearing glasses, so none hits me in the eyes. As it falls to the ground around me, he speeds to the next window.)

Me: “…and you have a nice day, sir.”

(Luckily, a coworker was there and saw the whole thing, so she went and told my manager. My manager parked him, saying that they were waiting on his food. She came out to his car five minutes later with his total payment refunded onto a gift card, and told him that he wouldn’t be getting his food there that day, or ever again.)

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Obviously… That Teacher Just Sucks

, , , , | Learning | August 6, 2017

(My high school math teacher is sour and never smiles. Her classroom is on the top floor of the building, and art classes are on the bottom floor. After school one day, I see her waiting outside my art classroom. I think that she dislikes me quite a bit more than her other students, so I try to make a better impression on her with pleasant small talk.)

Me: *smiling* “Hi, Mrs. [Teacher]. Are you waiting for [Teacher’s daughter]? She’s still in there?”

Teacher: *with venom* “Of course! Why else would I be down here?!”

(She never reproached me like that in the classroom, so I clam up in shock. Luckily, her daughter comes out at that moment, and the teacher grumbles at her for making her wait. I watch them walk away.)

Teacher’s Daughter: “Why are we going back upstairs?”

Teacher: *with the same venom* “I left my purse in the classroom! Isn’t it obvious?!”

(I realized then that I wasn’t a special case!)

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