(I am at a pharmacy at 3:00 am trying to pick up some toilet paper. There are two people arguing somewhere near the rear of the store and the store clerk is falling asleep at the checkout. It is when I get to the toilet paper section that I discover that the people arguing are standing in front of my goal. Not wanting to get anywhere near this nasty-sounding fight, I go down a few aisles to wait out the storm. That’s when I hear this gem:)

Lady: “We ain’t buying that s***ty a** s***!”

Guy: “That crap you always buy always gets all up in my a**. We be buying a** wipes, not f****** tissue paper!”

Lady: “I’m not rubbing my crotch with this sandpaper bulls***!”

Guy: “This ain’t nothing like sandpaper. This s*** be tight and it ain’t gonna rub ya raw!”

(I’m an aisle over at this point trying not to laugh too loudly. They’re making sailors proud with their foul language. I’ve never heard such a colorful argument about toilet paper before. They continue this for a bit when the guy drops some math on the lady.)

Guy: “Look right here. This has 200 sheets per f****** roll. There be four rolls in this s***. With five sheets for every hardcore a**-wiping and four hardcore a**-wipings for each s***, this f****** roll gonna last for ten hardcore s*** sessions. That’s f****** forty hardcore s***s for five f****** dollars. And your b****-a** s*** costs f****** ten bucks and I gotta dig the f****** s*** nuggets out of my a** every time I use this s***.”

(They must have heard me laughing at this point as they got really quiet. I don’t know if the guy ever convinced the lady to buy whatever it was. Definitely spiced up my earlier morning.)

This happened about five years ago when I worked as an IT technician in a factory. I was an infrastructure technician and I had a colleague — we’ll call him J — who, like me, had a weird sense of humour. J told me that the following happened to him one day. 

At the time, we had two wireless networks; one was our corporate network, and only for laptops, barcode scanners, and company mobile phones. The other was technically only for visitors, but employees tended to connect their personal mobile phones to it. 

Our visitor network was only available in certain parts of our two factories. However, someone had managed to find the Wi-Fi code for the corporate network, so quite a few people connected their personal mobile phones to it. Our SysAdmin had to block these devices because they took up valuable IP addresses that were needed for devices like handheld barcode scanners.

One day, J went round to the stores to look at a printer that wasn’t working. He fixed it and got chatting with the stores guys. One of the younger guys asked J why he had suddenly lost connection to the corporate Wi-Fi. J, completely deadpan said, “Yeah, we had to block personal devices because we discovered that some people were using the corporate network to look at p*rnography on their mobile phones.” Defensively, the storeman replied, “I only did that once!”

J went very quiet, looked the storeman in the eye, and said, “I was only joking!” The storeman blushed bright red, and said, “Oh, so was I!”

(I’ve recently been promoted to front-end manager. A cashier pages me over for a difficult customer. I recognize her as someone who only allowed the previous front-end manager to check her out.)

Cashier: “She asked for you to check her out.”

Customer: “No, I asked for [Previous Manager]!”

Me: “I’m sorry, she no longer works here.”

Customer: “What?!”

Me: “I’d be happy to check you out, though!”

Customer: “Well, I hope you can give me the same treatment as [Previous Manager], then!”

Me: “I can give you the best service possible. But if you’re referring to the unauthorized price changes and discounts that [Previous Manager] did, it’s actually why she no longer works here, as well as other policies she ignored. While we do want our customers happy, we also have to stick to what corporate asks of us and be fair to every customer, including having them all pay the standard price.”

Customer: “Oh… yeah…”

(She was quiet while I rang her out. While she does still come in, it’s not as frequent, and she doesn’t ask for me to check her out.)

(A young woman pulls up to the drive-thru pharmacy to pick up Ritalin for her son, who is sitting in the backseat. The medication isn’t ready so I check the system and see that the insurance isn’t covering it. A reason is usually provided, but not in this case.)

Evil Mom: “That makes no sense. We always get it filled here and there’s never a problem. The insurance covers everything.” *classic line with pharmacy customers who think insurance is magic and has no limitations*

Me: “I understand. But I just tried to run it through the insurance and they rejected it without giving a reason why. Would you be able to call them?”

Evil Mom: “Okay, I’ll call right now.” *looks at her insurance cards angrily* “So, what’s the number?”

Me: *confused why she thinks I know the number off the top of my head* “There should be a customer service number on the back of the card.”

Evil Mom: *still angry* “Member services?”

Me: “Yes.”

(She calls and remains sitting in the single-lane driveway, blocking a line of cars with no regard for the other people who came for their medications.)

Me: “Could you pull around the store to make the call?”

Evil Mom: “I’m not leaving this spot until I get my son’s meds.”

(The pharmacist comes over.)

Pharmacist: *friendly* “I’m sorry, but would you be able to—”

Evil Mom: *without looking at us* “I’m not leaving.” *rolls the window up in our faces*

(The pharmacist curses under her breath and leaves to help other customers. The mom reaches someone from the insurance company and puts the window back down. For fifteen minutes, I listen to her scream at the representative. The whole store can hear her through the drive-thru dropping profuse F-bombs and bullying the rep. Her son is fidgeting in the back seat, but sadly, he doesn’t look surprised by this behavior.)

Evil Mom: “Why isn’t my son’s medication covered? You are supposed to cover it and he needs this! What is your name? Okay. And what is your last name? ‘L’ is your last name? Wow. That’s a weird last name. Then give me your employee number. What do you mean, you don’t have numbers? So, how does your company have you on file? Give me your information. You know what? Nevermind. I want to speak to a manager. Now.”

(A car behind her honks.)

Other Customer: *shouting forward* “What’s going on? It’s been almost half an hour! Just go inside!”

Evil Mom: *shouting back* “SHUT THE F*** UP!”

(Eventually, the cars behind her begin leaving the line. None of them come inside the store. Mom, still on the phone, throws a discount prescription card and her welfare card at me and looks expectant. I return a blank look.)

Evil Mom: *pleasant voice* “I’m waiting for you.”

Me: *confused as to what she expects me to do, since the insurance issue has not been resolved* “Did they put the claim through? If so, I can try to re-run it.”

Evil Mom: *arrogantly* “Just run the cards and give me the medication. I’m going to pay the same amount as I did last time. Use the cards I just gave you and give me his pills.”

Me: “It still has to go through the insurance first.”

(The mom continues screaming obscenities simultaneously at the phone and now at me. The pharmacist comes over again and takes charge of the situation.)

Pharmacist: “You need to stop talking like that to our staff. You’re cursing and insulting us. We don’t need that. In the future, I think you need to use a different pharmacy.”

Evil Mom: *in a weirdly amused way* “Who are you even? I didn’t ask you anything.”

(The pharmacist and I are fed up. I look back and see that the store manager has been listening to everything in the background. The pharmacist tries to run the medication through the insurance again but the rejection is still coming up.)

Pharmacist: “The insurance is still not going through. We’ve done what we can. The cash price is $130 and we can fill it for you.”

(The mom sped away in a flash without another word. We were surprised she didn’t curse us out one more time. We anticipate that she has already called corporate to tell them we are horrible people preventing her from getting her son’s medication. The store manager who overheard said she will vouch for us. If that evil mom knew how to be patient and work with people, there is a chance she could have gotten her son’s medication filled. I feel really bad for that kid.)

(My husband and I are out shopping with our toddler during our first day on vacation, stocking up on essentials for the week. We’re standing in the yogurt aisle, trying to decide whether to get a quart of yogurt or a couple of individual sizes for our son. Finally, we settle on a quart, pick it up, and go to move on to the next aisle when we notice a man standing next to us, glaring.)

Angry Man: *as we move past him* “FINALLY!”

Husband & Me: *exchanging confused looks* “Oh, sorry?”

Angry Man: *muttering under his breath but plenty loud enough to hear* “F****** oblivious. I’ve been waiting here for five f****** minutes waiting for you to move. F****** ridiculous…”

Me: *snorting in disbelief*

Husband: *murmuring to me* “He could have said something…”

Angry Man: *shoves past my husband, banging his cart and shoulder* “Move your a**!”

Husband & Me: *left in disbelief that this just happened*

(But the story doesn’t end there! Later that day, my husband was driving up to a stop sign on a side street. He had to pull up over the crosswalk to see whether it was clear to turn onto the main road. When a man came walking up with his dog, my husband reversed to allow him to cross. The man started making rude gestures and angry faces toward our car and the crosswalk, clearly trying to articulate, “How dare you be on the crosswalk, I’m trying to walk here, what is wrong with you,” etc. As he got closer, I recognized his face. I kid you not, IT WAS THE SAME ANGRY MAN. There’s no way he recognized us behind our tinted windows. He was just that rude to everyone!)