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The Number One Complaint For Pregnancy Tests

, , , | Right | September 6, 2017

(I am on break and waiting in line when this happens to my coworker.)

Customer: “I’d like to return this.” *hands over a shopping bag*

Coworker: “Sure, I can do that. Was the product defective or… uh, ma’am?” *taking an opened, somewhat drippy pregnancy test kit out*

Customer: “I didn’t get the result I wanted!”

Coworker: “Did you use this?” *already going for the hand sanitizer*

Customer: “But I’m not pregnant! It didn’t give me the result I wanted!”

Coworker: “I can’t return this.”

Customer: “Why? I should be able to return it if I’m not happy with the product.”

Coworker: “No, you cannot return products that have been… used. Especially if use involves urinating on it.”

Customer: *irately* “What should I do, then?”

Coworker: “I don’t know, maybe try again?”

(I came back from my break early so she could thoroughly sanitize and wash her hands!)

Sexism Is His Profession

, , , | Working | September 6, 2017

(I am a business professional, and I am a woman. I am sent to a business conference in Reno, Nevada. I am not much of a gambler, but I wander around the casino while others gamble. We are all dressed for the conference, in suits and professional clothing. I decide to play some slots just a little to pass the time, and I need cash. I go to the teller window to cash a check. This is our conversation:)

Me: “Hello. I’d like to cash a check for $40 please.”

Teller: “Tell me you’re a housewife.”

Me: “Why would I tell you that I’m a housewife, when I am not?”

Teller: “Because you’re a woman. If you tell me you’re a housewife, I will assume your husband will cover this check.”

Me: “…”

Teller: “If you don’t tell me you are a housewife, I will have to ask for all kinds of ID to make sure you can cover the check.”

Me: “So, this casino would trust a fictitious husband to cover this check, but not the professional woman who is here in person.”

Teller: “Yes.”

Me: “…”

Changing Insurance Companies Is Hellish

, , , | Working | September 5, 2017

(My phone rings in the middle of the day. The person calling sounds incredibly cheerful and happy.)

Caller: “Good morning! I’m calling in regards to your car.” *lists make and model* “Our records indicate you haven’t extended its coverage past the factory default.”

Me: “Yes, that’s because I’ve got it covered by [other insurance company].”

(There is a rustling of papers, and the caller then says the following in the same overly cheerful and upbeat voice.)

Caller: “I see… well, in that case, f*** you, and I hope you burn in Hell!” *click*

Beat The Entitlement Before You Beat The Level

, , , , | Friendly | September 5, 2017

(I am going to visit my grandparents in India for the summer. The first leg of our trip is from one city in the US to another. On the airplane, I have brought my portable console, which is new and is in high-demand. That means whenever I bring it around, people ask if they can play on it. Due to a mix-up on the plane, all of my family is sitting in different places except for my sleeping sister and me.)

Me: *playing game*

Little Kid: “Whoa! Is that [New Console]? Can I play?”

Me: “Okay, after I finish this level.”

(The little kid seems fine with this. But suddenly, his mother butts in.)

Mother: “Hey, [Kid], do you want to play on that man’s console?”

Little Kid: “Yeah, but he’s beating a level right now.”

Mother: *suddenly extremely angry* “What the heck? Excuse me, let my child play his game!”

Me: “Oh, no, he can play, but I’m in the middle of a level right now. Right now he’s watching me play.”

Little Kid: “Whoa! What weapon is that? That’s not in multiplayer, is it?”

Me: “No, but you can unlock it in-“

Mother: “I can’t BELIEVE you! Why are you not letting him play?”

Me: “Because I am in the middle of finishing a level…”

Mother: “But WHY? I don’t care about your stupid game; just let my child play!”

Me: *pauses game* “Uhh….”


Me: “It’s not his game. It’s my game.”


Little Kid: “No, Mom, I have the other console, remember? The game he’s playing is the sequel to the game I have.”

Mother: “NOT RIGHT NOW, [Kid]!” *reaches for my game*

Me: *jerks back* “What the h***?”

(Now, the little kid is in between me and his mom, so she can’t really reach me from where she’s sitting. Realizing her efforts are in vain, she starts mashing the button to call a flight attendant.)

Me: “The plane is going up right now. I don’t think the flight attendant is going to come.”

Mother: *unbuckles her seat-belt and starts getting up*

Little Kid: “Whoa! Mom! Stop it!”

Mother: *literally FALLS onto her kid since the plane is going up*

Little Kid: “Stop!” *screams*

(This is enough to wake my sister up. The kid’s mom manages to squirm her way back into her seat, and continues to spout insults and threats.)

Mother: “When the flight attendant comes, I’ll make sure my kid gets his console and they will kick you off the flight!”

Sister: “Ma’am, look out the window. I don’t think the pilots are gonna be kicking anyone out anytime soon.”

Mother: *realizes what she said* “Augh! I hate you little Mexican brats!”

Me: *shocked, because we’re not even Mexican and don’t look like it*

Sister: “All right, once the plane starts cruising, I’m getting a staff member to move you.”

Little Kid: *starts crying*

Me: *gives the kid the game*

Little Kid: *starts playing*

Mother: “HA! See?! You stupid-a** Mexicans think you can get away with anything! Well, you CAN’T!”

Flight Attendant: “All right, I heard the last thing you just said, ma’am, and I’d like someone to tell me what’s going on.”

(The people behind us talk to the flight attendant.)

Flight Attendant: “All right, ma’am, I’m going to ask you to move so you don’t bother anyone else.”

Mother: *excited* “Are we getting promoted to first class?”

Flight Attendant: “…No.”

(In the end, I beat the level. The flight attendant wanted to give us alcohol for free until we told him we were underage, so they just gave it to the people behind us, and we had an amazing flight. Our family didn’t even believe what we told them.)

A Small To A Medium To A Large Reaction

, , , , | Working | September 5, 2017

(I’m working with a supervisor who has shown, numerous times, that he cracks easily under pressure. While I’ve never seen him angry, he tends to run away from problems. Recently our buy-nine-get-the-tenth-coffee-free cards have been changed so your free drink has to be a small. If you want a medium, you have to pay the difference, which is 40 cents. Management has been very strict about making sure customers pay the difference. A woman who has harassed and shouted at every employee walks in with her card.)

Customer: “I want my medium coffee, now.”

Me: “All right, that’ll be 40 cents.”

Customer: “No, it’s free.”

Me: “Yes, as I told you last time, they’ve changed the cards so you get a small free instead of a medium. You need to pay the difference.”

Customer: “No, I don’t.”

(My supervisor sees this and instead of helping, sorts random stuff just within earshot.)

Me: “Ma’am, I was instructed by the owners that the cards will only be accepted for a small coffee. I can’t do anything for you.”

Customer: “I’m not leaving here without my free medium coffee.”

Me: “Hey, [Supervisor], could you talk to this customer for me?”

Supervisor: “Just give her the coffee.”

Me: *stupidly deciding that disobeying my supervisor is better than disobeying the owners, who are very strict* “The owners have told us all that we’re not supposed to give away free mediums anymore. I’m not going to run her card as a medium.”

(The supervisor then walks up to me, pulls a dollar from his pocket and slams it on the counter.)

Supervisor: “HERE’S YOUR F****** DOLLAR!”

Me: *stunned silence*

(Every customer in the store just stood there. I continued to serve customers and I left the dollar on the counter. The woman paid the 40 cents. I left at the end of the summer and was very happy to never go back. The store went through several owners over the next few years and I met my old supervisor while shopping a while back. He’s working at a grocery store now, and he’s thankfully not in a position of authority anymore.)