Make Swimming Great Again

, , , | Right | April 25, 2019

(My coworkers and I are cleaning up after finishing swimming lessons. Suddenly, one of my coworkers approaches me and asks me to check out some raised voices she heard in the hallway. I walk up and I do hear raised voices coming from two mothers. I approach one of the ladies who is yelling and, for the sake of this story, it’s important to note that she is white and the woman she is arguing with is of African descent.)

Me: “Hey, ladies, what seems to be—“

(Suddenly, out of nowhere, the white lady screeches and storms up to the other woman.)

Lady: “DON’T YOU EVER TALK LIKE THAT TO ME!”

(The two start arguing while I’m trying to calm them down. I quickly radio the site leader that night, who helps me separate them. While we are trying to talk to both of them, the one customer is fuming and won’t calm down.)

Lady: “That f****** b**** and her son are dead. Dead! Her [racial slur] son hit my little girl!”

(The son and daughter are no more than five years old.)

Team Leader: “Ma’am, that language is not allowed here.”

Lady: “KICK THEM THE F*** OUT!”

(Meanwhile, I’m talking to the other mom, who is calm but obviously shaken, and trying to console her son, who is crying. It turns out that as they were passing by each other in the narrow hallway, the little boy accidentally bumped into the little girl and apologized. That’s when the other lady lost it. As I’m writing down a report, the team leader comes to me, obviously having had enough of the other lady.)

Team Leader: “Since you were the first one here, I just want to clarify something: would you say that the lady I’m talking to is the one who instigated the fight?”

Me: “Well, they were both arguing when I arrived—“

Team Leader: “But if I were to say in the report that the other lady was the one who was the most uncooperative and most argumentative, would you back up this statement?”

Me: “Oh, yes. I would, 100%.”

Team Leader: “Thank you.”

(She then walks back over to the other lady, who is still swearing and cursing.)

Team Leader: “You will stop this at once and leave this building or I will call and have police escort you out. Furthermore, you are banned from using this facility ever again for uttering death threats and discriminatory remarks. If you try to come back, we have your information and the police will be called. Do you understand?”

Lady: *starts to cry and wail* “It’s because I’m white, isn’t it?”

(That was the first and only time in my lifetime — so far — that I’ve ever heard that remark. Also, no, lady, it’s because you’re crazy!)

Yes, Because Heterosexual Porn Is Okay

, , , , | Right | April 24, 2019

(My husband told me this story from his time working at a video game store. He is working with a male customer to trade in their PS2. He plugs in the unit to make sure it powers on and ejects the disk drive to find an adult film DVD in it with an obvious title referring to busty women.)

Customer: *laughs nervously* “Well, at least I’m not gay, right?!”

Husband: *has seen it all and wordlessly hands the customer the DVD and finishes the trade-in as usual*

 

Scarfing Down On Homophobes

, , , , , , , | Working | April 22, 2019

My fiancée is shopping for a fancy women’s suit for our upcoming wedding. To save money, she, her brother, and their mom go to a department store. My fiancée finds a great suit that she looks amazing and comfortable in, but now she will need a tie for it. She goes to an associate, an older woman, for help.

The associate gives my fiancée — who does have a butch hairstyle — and her women’s suit a dirty look and tells her that women’s scarves, but not ties, are nearby and men’s ties are upstairs.

My fiancée still got the suit.

Time To Trample His Misogyny

, , , , | Right | April 22, 2019

(My fiancé and I have gone to our local comic shop and gaming store to play in a “Magic: The Gathering” draft tournament. After everyone has signed up and paid, the owner tells us to take a seat at the tables so that he and his employee can pass out the packs of cards. As he’s handing out packs, the shop employee taps a guy on the shoulder and points at the girl sitting next to him.)

Employee: “She’s not playing, so she can’t sit there.” *shrugs* “I’m not saying you’d cheat, but those are the rules so that people aren’t tempted to cheat.”

Guy: “Oh, okay.” *to the girl* “Sorry, baby.”

Girl: “That’s okay. I’m just going to take the car and go grab something to eat, okay?”

(She gets up and starts to leave the shop. The guy watches her go and notices me as she walks past me.)

Guy: *suddenly pointing at me* “Hey! If my girlfriend can’t sit with me, then she can’t sit with him!”

Employee: *without looking up from what he’s doing* “Yes, she can. She’s playing.”

Guy: *scowling* “But you made my girlfriend leave!”

Employee: *rolls his eyes* “I said she’s playing. If you want your girlfriend to sit with you, go pay [Shop Owner] $15 so she can play.”

Guy: *scoffs* “My girlfriend doesn’t want to play Magic.”

Employee: *pointing at me* “Well, she does want to play and has paid her $15, so she can sit right there with her man if she wants to.”

Guy: *grumbling* “It’s not fair.”

Employee: *groans* “Life’s not fair. But she’s paid her money and it wouldn’t be fair for me to make her leave.”

(The guy starts to complain again but a friend of ours, who is sitting next to him, cuts him off.)

Friend: *annoyed* “Oh, my God, shut up! She’s in here with him all the time! She legitimately knows what she’s doing and paid to sit her a** in that chair, so shut the f*** up or do us all a favor and leave!

(The guy sulked the rest of the evening and even pouted when I came in fourth place.)

She Has Steal Appeal

, , , , , , | Right | April 20, 2019

(I’m working the information desk with my coworker when this happens. A middle-aged, blonde woman with a strong Eastern European accent comes up, looking very angry.)

Customer: “I need police!”

Me: “Okay, what for?”

Customer: “My purse stolen! I vas sitting at bench outside, I put my purse under, and next thing I know it gone. Person next to me, gone, too!”

Me: “And how long ago was this?”

Customer: “About ten minutes ago.”

Me: “Oh, wow. I’m so sorry that happened to you. Do you need the number for the police?”

Customer: “Yes!”

(I give her the non-emergency number for the local police.)

Me: “Here. You can call that number and file a stolen property report. The police should talk to you soon.”

(She dials the number on her cell phone and starts talking.)

Customer: “Yes, I need police officer!” *pause* “My purse stolen!” *pause* “I was sitting at bus stop, I put my purse under the bench, and when I look up it gone! Person next to me, gone too!” *pause* “Okay.” *pause* “No.” *pause* “Ten minutes ago, why?” *pause* “What?! But why can you not send someone now? I at library, [address], you always have officer here! But, but…” *pause* “Fine! But be here quick!”

(I’m definitely not liking where this conversation is going. For the record, we sometimes have an officer stationed in our library, because we tend to get a higher-than-average number of patrons who do not know how to behave well, but only on weekend evenings.)

Customer: “You idiot! Why you give me that number?!”

Me: “Wha… Ma’am?”

Customer: “I need officer right now! Why you not give me 911?!”

Me: “Well, ma’am… I’m sorry, but you described a crime that happened a while ago. Dialing non-emergency and filing a report is usually the wisest thing to do.”

Customer: “But I need right now! Why officer not here?! You alvays have one!”

Me: “Well… that’s usually only on evenings, ma’am.”

Customer: “So, now, what I do?!”

Me: “I’m sorry, madam, but the best I can tell you is to wait for the officer to come.”

(She stomps off angrily. I assume that will be the end of it. Stupid me. About four minutes later:)

Customer: “This all your fault!”

Me: “Huh?”

Customer: “All my documents gone! My social security, my passport, my medication — gone!”

Me: “Well… I’m sorry, madam, but you are expected to be responsible for your own personal property.”

Customer: “So, why not call 911?!”

Me: *patience stretching just a tad thin* “Ma’am, with all due respect, if you know the number for 911, why not just call them yourself?!”

Customer: “Because you have officer here in library!”

Coworker: “I’ll call 911 for you, ma’am.”

Customer: “Thank you! He know what he doing!”

(Even after that, she still comes back to harass me several times at my desk, telling me how stupid and incompetent I am, how she’s going to make my life miserable if she doesn’t get her purse back, etc. She also proceeds to talk over my coworker whenever he tries to mediate between us. But I’m still willing to let this go, until this happens!)

Customer: “You know vat? I bet it was black guy!”

Me: *keeps my mouth shut, as I don’t want to make an already volatile situation worse* “Mm-hmm.”

Customer: “I’m serious! That’s all black people do: steal! I remember all my pill stolen when I talk to one once!”

Me: “Ma’am, please don’t speculate like that. It’s offensive.”

Customer: “But it truth!”

(Did I mention that my coworker standing next to me, who called 911 for her, is also black? Remind me to commend him for his patience. She goes back to sit down, but — you guessed it — not even two minutes later:)

Customer: “If you just call 911 first time, I no be here, you stupid, incompetent, worthless little—“

Me: *temper finally breaking* “MA’AM, I HAVE DONE THE BEST THAT I CAN UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES! NOW, WILL YOU PLEASE STOP HARASSING ME AT MY OWN DESK AND STOP BLAMING ME FOR THE EFFECTS OF YOUR OWN FOOLISHNESS?!”

Customer: “I NOT HARASSING; I TELLING YOU TO DO YOUR JOB!”

Coworker: “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Okay, let’s calm down. [My Name], the police officer is here; how about I take [Customer] downstairs?

Me: *deep breath* “Yes, please.”

(A few minutes later.)

Coworker: “Okay, the officer’s taking her statement, but he also decided it’d be a good idea to ask her to leave the library.”

Me: “Good. Thank you, [Coworker].” *deep sigh* “I want to feel bad for her, since she did get stolen from, but some people really make it difficult. Especially considering this didn’t even take place on our property.”

(I somehow never got written up for this.)

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