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There’s A Wide Gap Between Caution And Racism

, , , | Learning | April 17, 2022

I’m standing outside with my daughter, waiting for her school bus. Near us is another mom with her child.

The bus rolls up, as usual; however, the driver today is different. This happens occasionally when the usual driver is ill or whatnot. I don’t think anything of it, but being that this substitute driver just so happens to be black, this doesn’t rest well with the mom next to us.

She lurches forward, blocks my daughter from entering, and barks at him.

Woman: “Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing? Who gave you permission to be driving this bus?”

Driver: “Oh, nothing, I just thought I’d get up at seven in the morning and steal a bus full of screaming kids. What do you think I’m doing?!

Woman: “What is your first and last name?”

Driver: “First name, Bus! Last name, Driver! Are you going to put your child on or not? I need to get going!”

My daughter moves to enter the bus, but the woman blocks her again.

Woman: “Don’t! Not until I say it’s okay.”

Me: “Ma’am, would you get out of her way and let her get on?”

Daughter: “Come on, I have a field trip!”

Woman: “Let me find out if he’s supposed to be driving this bus.” *Takes out her phone*

Driver: “MISS! I GOTTA GO! I HAVE KIDS WAITING TO BE PICKED UP! MOVE OUT OF THE WAY!”

Woman: “No, you stay right there!” *Playing on her phone*

The door hisses shut and the bus roars away.

The woman and I ended up exchanging some loudly spoken and unkind words before I ended up hurrying my daughter back to our house and driving her to school, thankfully in plenty of time to make it for her field trip.

Meanwhile, I sent a letter to the school superintendent explaining the incident in the (highly likely) event that the other mother would contact them to give her own completely inaccurate version as to why her son and my daughter were not picked up for school that morning, resulting in that gentleman getting in trouble for nothing other than trying to do his job while black.

Ew, Gross! A Racist!

, , | Right | April 16, 2022

I used to work at a higher-end grocery store. We had a customer shopping with us and he was just casually chatting with the butcher. Out of the blue, he looked around and said:

Customer: “It’s nice to see that you don’t have any of those colored people working your store.”

Then, he just walked away like it was a normal conversation.

We did have non-white people on our staff. It just happened to be their day off.

Kind Of Makes You Want To Never Be Helpful Again

, , , , , | Right | CREDIT: anto9900 | April 15, 2022

This happens in Australia just before our first lockdown. There are mandatory mask requirements when shopping at retail stores. In high school and all through university, I worked at a mum-and-pop hardware store, so I know my way around hardware.

In our big box hardware stores, there isn’t much customer service. Most staff are there to check on stock levels, stock shelves, and attend the cash register. The old warhorses on the staff are always occupied helping people, but they are in short supply.

It’s a Saturday and I need some plumbing supplies. I’m in one of the most intimidating aisles for a lot of people; it’s got all the copper, taps, and toilet fittings. I’ve got all the items I need and I’ve been there for a good twenty minutes. I can see an older gent struggling and trying to work out what he needs. I catch his eye and he waves me over enthusiastically. I grab what he needs for a leaky cistern and instruct him how to install it. He thanks me and leaves.

As I’m about to leave, another old gent waves at me and asks me for help. I show him a direct replacement for his tap washers, but then proceed to show him a ceramic fitting that basically makes sure he never has to replace washers again. He balks at the price, but I convince him to get it — once a salesman, always a salesman, and he gets a seniors discount.

As I’m about to leave with the gent, a woman appears from behind me, silent as a mouse. Then, she screeches at me.

Woman: “Oi, you! I want these items!”

As I turn, she shoves a list in my face. Now, if she had smiled at me and asked politely, I would have happily helped her, but I smile and politely decline.

Me: “Sorry, I don’t work here.”

I indicate my clothes. I’ve got a blue singlet on and blue cargo shorts (with pockets full of plumbing products). Staff wears red and green. I turn and proceed to leave. The woman reaches out her hand and tries to turn me toward her, but I slip out of her grasp.

Woman: “You f*****’ helped him—” *indicating the old fella still standing next to me* “—so you work here. Don’t lie to me!”

I attempt my best withering gaze.

Me: “Ma’am, I don’t work here. I’ll let the counter know you need help and they will send someone along.”

I make a hasty retreat with the old gent.

The woman is hot on my tail, screaming at the top of her lungs, calling me a few racist names, and claiming I’m sexist besides other choice things. I ignore her and I think that infuriates her more. She tries a couple of times to get a hold of me, but I shrug her off. One of these times, she loses her footing and trips, which enables me to get the h*** out of dodge.

A member of staff intercepts the woman.

Employee: “Ma’am, please stop screaming.”

The woman points to me and starts ranting about me, calling me names, and making up a story about me being rude and racist and assaulting her. Clearly, as soon as she says “assault,” the situation escalates. She’s in for a very big surprise.

The employee turns to me and rolls her eyes. She knows this is going to be a long one. I do, too. I turn to the old gent.

Me: “You might as well go get in line. This is going to be a while.”

Old Gent: “It’s fine. You’ll need a witness.”

My heart bursts a little at that.

Security is called. I have a quick conversation with the manager and relay the events that have unfolded. The old man relays the same thing.

Me: *To the manager* “Can you please remind that woman that there are multiple security cameras around?”

Police get called anyway, and unlucky for the woman, she has no time to recant as there is already a patrol car in the parking lot. They separate the woman, the old gent, and me, and do a quick interview.

Then, I chill in the office for about an hour until the officers come back in.

Officer: “We’ve reviewed the tapes. Do you want to press any charges?”

I decline and they let me go. The manager walks me to the checkout and lets me know that the woman is getting a lifetime ban. I pay for my plumbing supplies with a trade discount. As I’m walking to the exit, I see the old fella sitting on the bench. He gets up and asks me if I want a sausage. We have a good laugh over sausage with onions and a soda. I offer to come over and fit the tap washes for him, and we organise a time for tomorrow morning for me to drop by. He actually only lives a street away from me.

As I’m getting in my car, the woman emerges with the cops and the manager. She looks distressed, but at least she’s not in cuffs. I know she’s not got many options, so I drive by as she is “talking” to someone on the phone and wind down my window.

Me: “Hey, see across the road the sign that says [Store]? They are a trade plumbing supplies store. If you go there and don’t be a b****, they will have everything on your list.”

Picky Penny Pinchers Don’t Like To Share

, , , , | Right | CREDIT: stickyterpslurper | April 15, 2022

I work at an Italian restaurant chain. A woman and her husband carrying a baby come in.

Woman: “Can we please sit at the back of the restaurant in that empty room? Our baby is a sensitive sleeper.”

Hostess: “That room is empty because it’s reserved for a high school prom’s dinner, but I can check with a server and see if they’re okay with serving one of the back corners, and then we can put the prom party at the front of the room. There are only around fifteen people in their party, and that room seats sixty.”

I am the server in question, so the host comes and asks me if I’m okay with it. I say go for it.

I come to the table and take the couple’s drink order, being quiet for the little one. I come back with their drinks and set them down, and then I take their order.

Woman: “I’d like the chicken Parmesan with no cheese.”

What?!

Man: “You know around six months ago when you guys had the Northern Tour of Italy? There is a mushroom alfredo on there. I want the steak gorgonzola, but I want the mushroom alfredo instead of the regular pasta and sauce, and I do not want the balsamic glaze that comes on the steak pieces. It is disgusting and I will send it back. I also do not want alfredo, add mushrooms and steak, because it is not the same.”

Luckily for this man, I know exactly what dish he is talking about.

Now, the infamous question:

Me: “Soup or salad?”

Woman: “We want both. The salad needs to have no tomato, extra croutons, extra onions, and no olives, and we want three cups of dressing on the side. For the soups, we want two bowls, each with two of the four soups poured in together but not stirred.”

I’m over this already.

Me: “There will be an extra charge to have both soup and salad. It’s about $5.”

They flip a lid demanding to speak to a manager. The manager comes out.

Manager: “We’ll comp the extra starter this time, but in the future, you should be aware that it’s standard practice to charge for it.”

I get the floor manager and the kitchen manager and describe the guy’s meal to them to ensure there is no lost translation about exactly what this already irate man wants. They say they’ve got it covered.

I bring out the overly complicated soup and salad, as well as hot breadsticks, and set everything down.

Me: “Would we like cheese?”

I lift my little cheese grater up and begin churning, asking when to stop. After three revisits to the kitchen and five blocks of asiago cheese later, they finally call it off. As I turn to leave, they laugh.

Couple: “You can leave the cheese grater here if you want.”

I laugh, too.

Me: “I’m not allowed to do that, but I will check in regularly in case you need more.”

I give them more cheese here and there while waiting on their food.

When I bring out the food, I’m honestly excited. I hate dealing with rude customers, but it’s nice to overcome adversity and I’m pretty sure I nailed this one.

I set their food down and I can tell immediately the guy is upset.

Me: “What’s wrong with your food, sir?”

Man: “Nothing, whatever. F*** it; I’ll just eat it.”

Me: “I’m sorry if there’s something wrong with your meal, sir, but if you let me know what I can do to fix it, I would be happy to.”

Man: “There’s nothing you can do. I’ll just eat this, it’s fine.”

At this point, hostesses are beginning to shuffle in the prom kids.

I ask if either of my customers wants cheese. The woman speaks up, now yelling.

Woman: “We want you to leave the cheese grater as we asked you to the first time! And how in the h*** do you expect me to eat my meal looking at that?!

She gestures behind me to the prom table. The room has gone dead silent. I turn around to look. I see a group of teens with a range of different disabilities in beautiful dresses and tuxedos. I can see that they, and the people escorting them, have heard what she said.

My manager walks up immediately with to-go boxes.

Manager: “You need to leave now. What you just said was disgusting, and I will not stand for it.”

The woman starts screaming as they get up to leave.

Woman: “I’m going to call corporate! And you tell your waitress, [My Name], to shove the cheese grater up her a**!”

They walked out. The weirdest thing about it all is that the baby never woke up.

People Are Seriously Still Asking That Question?!

, , , , | Working | April 11, 2022

I am a stay-at-home mom. I’m trying to make my toddler lunch and then get her down for a nap. My husband is currently working from home since his office hasn’t reopened. Someone knocks on the door. I answer and it’s a solicitor. We do have a “no solicitors” sign.

Solicitor: “My name is [Solicitor] and I’m with [Window Company]—”

I put my hand up slightly and cut him off. 

Me: “Hey, sorry. Right now really isn’t a good time. We’re not interested. We don’t own the house and can’t afford to buy new windows.”

I go to shut the door. He looks at me, annoyed. 

Solicitor: “Can I speak to the man of the household?”

I just stare at him before slightly chuckling. 

Me: “Excuse me? I am perfectly capable of speaking for this household, and I guarantee that I’m being a lot nicer than my husband would be. Now, get off my porch.”

He ended up coming back a few days later, and my husband answered the door. He immediately told him that I had already given an answer and slammed the door in his face.