Killing Kindness

, , , , , , | Friendly | January 20, 2018

(I’m bored waiting for the rest of my family to go to the bathroom and buy snacks, so I decide to try a toy dispenser, like a gumball machine, that gives you a tiny toy inside a clear plastic ball. After I get a toy, a woman comes up with two small children, about five years old. The mother gives each child a coin to get a toy, but the machine the daughter uses doesn’t work and she starts crying.)

Woman: “Well, I don’t have any more loose change! You’ll just have to share with your brother.”

Boy: “No! It’s mine!”

Me: *to the woman* “Excuse me. I just got this from the machine and I don’t really want it. Your daughter can have it, if you want.”

Woman: “What did you just say?”

Me: “I got this from the machine. I think it’s a toy tiger. I haven’t opened it, so I thought you might want it for your daughter, because…”

Woman: *suddenly shouting* “Mind your own f****** business. Why the f*** are you watching my kids, you pervert?”

(I was a baby-faced 13-year-old girl, not your typical “pervert.” I just wanted to help an upset kid and stressed-out mum)

You’re Just Shopping, They’re Just Trippin’

, , , , , , , , | Right | January 20, 2018

(I work in a large retail chain in Australia. As it is currently summer here, my long work pants are really hot. I’m in the store I work in, after my shift — so, still dressed in uniform — looking for a suitable skirt to buy and wear on my shifts and not boil my legs. A lady approaches me.)

Customer: “Could you help me find [pants] in size 12?”

Me: “Of course. Let me check the tag.”

(I find the pants quite quickly and show her we have sizes 6-22 — in Australian sizes this basically means there would be a pair to fit the vast majority of people — while handing her size 12.)

Customer: “And what about the top I asked for?”

(I’m certain she said nothing about a top to me, and she refuses to “repeat” herself. I tell her that in that case, there’s nothing more I can do for her and continue my own shopping. She doesn’t say anything but follows me around for the full ten minutes it takes me to find a suitable skirt. It’s pretty creepy.)

Customer: “Carrying that handbag, you almost look like you’re shopping!” *laughs*

Me: “I am shopping.”

Customer: *laughs*

(I’m apparently hilarious without even knowing it.)

Customer: *whining* “I really need that top!”

(I directed her to speak to my manager at the fitting rooms. She demanded my help. I repeated that my shift was finished, I really was just shopping, and I was helping her out of the goodness of my heart and without being paid. She complained to my very short-tempered manager about my “conduct,” and the manager reaffirmed that I was shopping, not working. This set off the ultimate conundrum in the customer’s mind and she got more and more agitated until she was removed by security for attempting to cut people with disposable razors. It was the craziest thing I’d ever seen. My coworkers and I still lunge at each other with [packaged, completely harmless] disposable razors for a joke.)

Not A Winner; Wait, Scratch That

, , , | Right | January 19, 2018

(There’s a woman who always comes in at seven in the morning with scratch-lotto tickets. She’s not very friendly.)

Customer: *gives me a ten dollar scratch off and a $20 bill* “I want another one of these and a [twenty dollar ticket].”

(I look at the ticket and notice only the barcode is scratched off on the front. I hand it back to her.)

Me: “Ma’am, this isn’t scratched off.”

Customer: “I don’t scratch them.”

(I know she does because the last time I opened and she got a few tickets from us, I watched her scratch them in her car.)

Customer: “I want another one of these and [$20 ticket].”

Me: “Ma’am, I don’t know how much you’ve won if you haven’t scratched it off.”

Customer: *referring to the lotto machine we have across from the register* “Use the machine.”

(I work mornings alone and I’d only been working there for about three weeks, so I didn’t want to fight her about this, and I couldn’t have my manager do anything about it. I scanned the ticket and entered the security code, and I was just hoping it wasn’t a winner. But by some stroke of luck on her part, it was a $10 winner. I went about ringing her up on it, then for the next ten minutes I was dumbfounded, wondering what witchcraft she used to know that ticket was a winner.)

Has A Creepy Ring To It

, , , , , | Working | January 19, 2018

(I have been in contact with a local artist and jewelry maker to make a pair of custom wedding rings. We met in person a while ago to go over what I wanted, at which time she told me she would need to eventually take my engagement ring to make tracings, due to its unique shape. We then spend the next few weeks emailing back and forth to try to coordinate meeting up again, but due to the fact that she lives 45 minutes from where I work and over an hour from where I live, this is proving to be difficult. Finally, we get to this point…)

Artist: *in email* “Okay, why don’t you just mail me the ring? My address is [address].”

Me: *in email* “I don’t know that I’m comfortable mailing you my ring. I’m worried it might get lost or stolen. Can I just drive up after work on [date] and give it to you?

Artist: *in email* “Sure! Just leave it in my mailbox.”

(I decide this would be all right, so on the day I promised, I drive up to her house. When I get there, I see she is actually home and outside in her front yard, close to the street, so I approach her.)

Me: “Hi, [Artist]!”

Artist: *not recognizing me* “Hi… Can I help you?”

Me: “I’m here to drop off my ring. I wasn’t expecting you to be home.”

Artist: *suddenly clicking* “Oh! [My Name]! I didn’t recognize you. Sure, let me take that.”

(A few weeks go by, and she emails me again to say the rings are done and that she will be in [Town where I work] on a day that week. We arrange to meet in a café at a specific time. I walk to the café and get there a few minutes early. I quickly spot her, but she is sitting with who I assume is another client, talking. The tables are very small, so instead of trying to butt my way in to their meeting, since I am early, anyway, I grab a table right next to theirs and wait for her to be done. I make eye contact with her just as I’m sitting down, so I assume she has seen me and will be done soon. I order tea, and the time we were supposed to meet passes. Finally, I overhear this part of their conversation.)

Artist: “Yeah, she should be here any minute.”

(I freeze, realizing that she didn’t recognize me when we made eye contact, and hasn’t seen me despite me being at the table right next to them. I am about to get up and say something to her when she continues…)

Artist: “She’s so funny. We only met once in person, and then she just showed up out at my house, completely unannounced, expecting I would know who she was!”

Client: “Oh, that’s… kind of creepy.”

(I can’t believe what I am hearing! She is talking about me to a complete stranger and making me out to be a creep! I have no idea what I should do at this point… If this stranger already thinks that I’m a creep, what will she think if I stand up and reveal I have been sitting right behind them and eavesdropping this whole time? I keep sipping my tea and consider just leaving, until…)

Artist: “[My Name]?!”

(I looked up and they were both staring at me, so I immediately jumped up and came over to their table. I quickly got through trying on the rings, writing a check, paying for my tea, and leaving, all while trying to be as friendly and not-creepy as possible!)

When You’re Actively Thinking About Running Someone Over

, , , , , , | Friendly | January 18, 2018

(I’m leaving to pick my partner up from work. Unfortunately, my phone is broken, but I send an email to my partner’s phone saying I’ll meet them outside. I go down the street, and there’s a man standing in the middle of the road. Cars are parked on either side, so I can’t get past. He comes up to me and stands in front of my car.)

Man: “Hey! Cold weather we’re having.”

Me: “Yeah…”

Man: “You know, it’s never been this cold before.” *he starts rambling about the cold* “So, have you always lived in Florida?”

Me: “No, I lived in Colorado before, but I really have to go–”

Man: “Colorado! They’ve got good skiers up there! Everyone’s a skier!”

(He starts talking about some ski accident he once had. Every time I try to talk, he interrupts me and talks faster. Eventually, his ski story is over and I think I’ll finally be released.)

Me: “Wow. Anyway, I should get–”

Man: “Do you follow sports?”

Me: “No, sorry.”

Man: “Well, I love football. The teams I follow used to be…“

(He keeps talking about how his team loyalty changes every time he moves. I cannot get a word in. He moves his arms a lot when he talks, and I’m starting to hope that he pokes himself with the tool he’s holding, just enough to make him leave. Finally, his monologue runs out of steam. He steps to the side and I speed out of there and end up being 20 minutes late.)

Partner: “Oh, my God! I thought you were in an accident! I was ready to call my mom and have her backtrack through the route.”

Me: *explains*

Partner: “Well, I know someone who’s not getting a Christmas card this year.”

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