This Customer Has A Screeching Ignition

, , , , | Right | February 21, 2021

I pull into a parking space at my local hardware store. When I get out of my truck, I notice that the car next to mine has the keys in the ignition and the doors unlocked. I go straight to the service desk to let them know. They make an announcement:

Announcement: “Will the owner of a [vehicle] with [license plate] please return to your vehicle?”

Okay, good deed done. Time to get on with my day, right? Yeah, not so much. I get about three feet or so away when I see a woman run up to the counter, and the SCREECHING starts. Literally no warning or questioning, just straight into:

Customer: “What the f*** is your problem?! I can park anywhere I f****** want! Where is your manager, you b****?!”

It continues for a while, and I decide that if I can’t do a good deed for the day, I can at least have fun being a jerk.

I walk back out to the parking lot, and since I have a notepad with my shopping list and a pen to mark things off, I write this note.

Note: “I saw your keys in the ignition, and I was the one who had you paged so that your car wouldn’t be stolen. What I didn’t know was how horrible you are. The employees here do not deserve anything like what you did to them. Your keys are under your seat.”

I put the note under the windshield wiper, pulled her keys out of the ignition, and threw them under the seat, and just before I closed the door, I locked it. I moved my truck a few spots over, went back into the store, and finished my shopping. There was a locksmith vehicle on its way into the lot as I was leaving… for some reason.

Whether my response was appropriate or not, I’m not losing any sleep over it.

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The Lights Are On, But We Wish No One Was Home

, , , , , , | Friendly | February 19, 2021

It’s autumn and the nights are creeping in. I’ve just finished shopping in a not-too-busy retail park. As I pull out of the parking space, I figure it couldn’t hurt to put my lights on.

Literally as my hand is on the switch, a car behind me starts flashing its lights and honking its horn. I didn’t cut them off — it isn’t even close — so I figure it must be about the lights. 

I switch them on (as I was about to do) and give a friendly wave and carry on. This is when the driver cuts the wrong way round the car park to get past me and stops in front of me.

She steps one foot out of her car and shouts at me.

Woman: “Lights on, idiot! It’s getting dark.”

I’m normally a confrontational person and I’m happy to say my piece, but she is being so overdramatic that it’s too surreal to take seriously.

Me: “Okay, love. Thank you. You’re so sweet.”

This pisses her off to no end.

Woman: “I am not your love!”

Me: “Okay, love, the streetlights aren’t even on yet. On you go.”

She huffed and puffed and seemed to think about approaching me, but she thought better of it. She got in her car, slammed her door, put her foot down… and drove straight into the kerbstone. I couldn’t see the damage, but by the noise, her car was certainly missing the corner of the bumper.

She jumped out, shouted at me, shouted at the car, and shouted seemingly at the world in general. As I decided to make a hastily retreat, she even tried to get in front of my car.

I don’t know what made her day so bad that she had to try to take it out on someone, but I know she made it a whole lot worse.

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She’s A Bumper To Bumper Monster

, , | Right | February 18, 2021

I work in a bowling alley and we have just opened for the day. The front desk is always left in disarray by the night crew who, understandably, just want to get home, so I always take a few minutes to clean everything up at the start of my shift.

I’m just finishing up when I accidentally knock the display of cards off the front desk across the floor. I’m busy cleaning them up with my back to the entrance when suddenly a woman is looming over me. She is standing next to a man.

Customer: *Snappily* “Four games.”

Me: “Sorry?”

Customer: *Scoffing* “Four. Games.”

She has not once made any sort of movement to help or comment about me picking up strewn cards, which would normally happen in a situation like this. Up to this point, I’ve been trying to sort them as I pick them up, but because she’s impatient, I quickly gather them up into a messy pile and dump them on the counter and then walk around to my computer. It dawns on me that it is not the day of the week where we sell by the game; instead, it’s by the time.

Me: “Oh, um—”

Customer: *Interrupting* “This is my client.”

She gestures to the man she’s with.

Customer: “I’m a social worker.”

We do have a rate for people with special needs that is by the game. I input the price and tell her.

Customer: *Completely irate* “What?! No way! I’ve been coming here on this day for years and it’s never been that price. I always get four games for [price one-quarter of what I told her]! That is not right at all.”

Me: “Oh, well, [price she said] is the cost for one game.”

Customer: “What?! No! No, no, no. You don’t know what you are doing. It has always been [price]!”

She glares at me expectantly.

Me: “I’m sorry. I’ve only been working here for four months and it has always been this pri—”

Customer: “Get me your manager… now!

Me: “No problem!”

I go and get my manager and explain the situation to her.

Manager: “Ma’am, the price used to be cheaper, but that was six years ago.”

Customer: “The guy that usually checks me in only charges me [price].”

Manager: “Apologies, but there’s nothing we can do. Whoever was charging you that price was wrong.”

The woman takes a business card, demands my manager’s name, and then purchases one game at the cost she was expecting four games to be. My manager goes back to her work and I go back to tidying up and answering the phone, which I like to do in a little room off the front desk because it’s quieter and I can hear better.

I finish a phone conversation and turn around to the front desk. The woman is back, strumming her fingers on the desk, looking annoyed at having to wait.

Me: “Oh, sorry, I forgot about bumpers!”

We put them up for small children, seniors, and people with special needs to make it a little easier and fair for them.

Me: “Let me just get those set up for—”

Customer: “What?! No! He wants the screen on.”

Me: “Oh! We usually don’t turn those on until night-time, but I’m sure my manager will let me turn them on. I just need to get confirmation. Are you sure your client doesn’t want bumpers?”

She scoffs about the screen rules and rolls her eyes at me.

Customer:No! No bumpers!”

She leaves, disgusted with me. I end up having to help another customer before I get the okay to turn the screens on. When I go over to their lane to turn them on, I see that they’ve already played a few rounds. The poor guy has zero at this point. She snaps at her client to thank me for turning on the screens, otherwise ignoring me. When they finish, I check the final score and her client has ten while she has ninety-eight. They leave and I explain everything to my coworker.

Me: “What kind of monster forces their special needs client to play without bumpers? It totally looks like she did that just so she could beat him!”

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This Isn’t O! This Isn’t Even OK!

, , , , , | Friendly | February 17, 2021

This story happened a while ago, but my boyfriend and I still talk about it occasionally because it was, in retrospect, very funny. It’s about 1:00 am on a weekend. My boyfriend is asleep, but I’m a night owl and am still up.

I’m using the bathroom attached to our home office when I hear an unfamiliar voice outside my apartment. I don’t think much of it… until I hear our front door open and suddenly the voice is INSIDE our apartment! I hastily get myself decent, but before I can even button my fly, I hear:

Boyfriend: “WHAT THE F*** ARE YOU DOING IN MY APARTMENT?”

Stranger: “Wha?! Uh… this is my apartment?”

Boyfriend: “NO. THIS IS MY APARTMENT!”

I peek out of the bathroom to see my 6’4″, 260-pound linebacker of a boyfriend, having apparently woken out of a dead sleep and raced into the living room in nothing but boxer-briefs faster than I could even pull up my pants, menacing a very startled-looking college-aged young man.

Boyfriend: “SO, AGAIN, WHAT THE F*** ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?!”

Stranger: “Uh, uh… I’m on acid, bro.”

There’s a beat of silence, but finally, my boyfriend lowers the fist that was poised to hit the apparent intruder.

Boyfriend: “What apartment building are you in?”

Stranger: *Pauses* “O?”

Boyfriend: “This is K. Get out.”

Stranger: “Uhhh…”

My boyfriend then has to physically turn the kid around, guide him out the door, and point him in the correct direction of his own apartment. We realize that when we got delivery earlier in the day, I neglected to lock the door, which is how he got in so easily. We both stay up a bit to shake off the adrenaline, but by the next morning, we have found the levity in the situation.

Me: “Honestly, it’s terrifying that you woke up out of a dead sleep that ready to just wreck someone’s s***. You didn’t even put on pants!”

Boyfriend: “It honestly didn’t occur to me. All I knew was that I couldn’t hear your voice, but I could hear a male voice I didn’t recognize, and that was wrong.”

Me: “Poor kid is probably terrified of this building now.”

Boyfriend: “Actually, he probably could barely comprehend where he was or who was talking to him. He’s probably like, ‘I met my spirit animal! He’s a gorilla and an a**hole!’”

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The Attack Of The “Wait” Finger

, , , , , , | Legal | February 17, 2021

My house is on a corner with the side street on a slight hill. In the winter, the hill gets icy and even four-wheel-drive vehicles have difficulty getting started after stopping for the stop sign. Because of this, I have installed a heavy timber retaining wall to stop vehicles from running through my fence and into my yard; I have to replace parts of that wall frequently, however.

But now it’s summer and weather conditions are fine. It’s about noon and I hear a familiar crash. I look out to see a large black SUV straddling the timber wall, a middle-aged lady at the wheel, still talking on her phone, her tires still going forward but a couple of feet off the ground. A mix of radiator fluid, engine oil, transmission fluid, and power steering fluid is squirting all over.

I go up to her.

Me: “Turn off your engine before you ruin it, ma’am.”

I get the “wait” finger while she continues on the phone. I finally SHOUT:

Me: “TURN OFF YOUR ENGINE!”

She does so while continuing her phone call. (Gee, I wonder how she missed the turn and ended up on my wall!) She finally gets out of her car, still on the phone.

Me: “Do you want to call the cops, or do you want me to?”

She turns her back to me; I am obviously interrupting her very important phone call. I call the police. The police arrive about ten minutes later and the lady is still on the phone. They ask me if I was involved and I explain that I am the homeowner and the lady was driving.

Cop: “Ma’am, can I please have your license, registration, and insurance information?”

The lady gives the cop the “wait” finger and turns her back to him. After several minutes:

Cop: “I need your license, registration, and insurance papers. Please put your phone down.”

She scowls at him and sets her purse down on the retaining wall in front of her spewing vehicle. While still on her phone, she digs with one hand through her purse and gives him her license. He has to ask her again for the other papers, which she finally gives him. He goes back to his cop car to do whatever they do, make reports, etc.

I am still on the scene, so I walk closer to the lady and overhear part of what she is saying.

Lady: “Yeah, I just got my car out of the shop this morning, and I’m already in another wreck.” *Pauses* “Yeah, some guy put this wall out in the street so that it hit me.”

I intervene and speak to her, interrupting her important phone call.

Me: “I put that wall on my property to keep cars out of my fence.”

I point to the newest section of fence where a car took out some of the wall and went through my fence into my yard last winter.

Lady: *Screaming at me* “I would not have gone through your fence! Idiot!

The cop came and gave her a ticket… and she still had not put down her phone. A wrecker came — oh, boy, that’s ANOTHER story for another time — and ignoring my pleas to lift the car off the wall, just chained up and dragged it from the wall, causing more damage to both the car and my wall.

Still on the phone, the lady got into the wrecker and left.

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