I Will Plant Myself Right Here

, , , , | Right | October 11, 2017

(I work at a hotel resort in the Rockies, doing the overnight shift. Since it is a slow night, I spend most of it in the back room doing my reports. At 3:00 am, I go out to roll the business date and come face to face with one of our guests, clearly under the influence, trying to walk off with one of the plants we keep at the front desk. He looks at me, alarmed, obviously not expecting me to be there, and I look at him, surprised to see someone as well. After a moment, he slowly sets the plant back down.)

Guest: *pouting* “You weren’t supposed to see me.”

(He sheepishly walked over to the elevators, and I did my best to refrain from laughing until the elevator doors closed behind him.)

The Badly Behaving One? It Is Definitely Not You

, , , , , , , | Friendly | October 11, 2017

(I share a name with a few other girls in my grade.)

Girl #1: “Hey, [My Name]!”

Me and Girl #2: “Yeah?”

Girl #1: *staring me directly in the eyes* “It’s not you, you f****** attention w****. Why do you think it would ever be you? It’s always you! Just this once, it’s not you, and you can’t f****** deal with that, can you? You little b****, you just do whatever you want to do and grab whatever measly bits of attention you can scrounge up. Well, you know what? I don’t care. I truly don’t. You can go die in a hole, because it will never. Be. You.” *turns to [Girl #2]* “Anyway! [Classmate #1] is apparently dating [Classmate #2] now! Isn’t that fantastic?!”

Girl #2: “What the living f***, [Girl #1]?”

(I more or less walked away with my jaw on the ground. There’s gotta be a nicer way to tell a person you’re not talking to them.)

There’s A Meth To His Madness

, , , , , | Right | October 11, 2017

(A customer is freaking out in the men’s bathroom, slamming the stall door, and I have to go tell him to leave since I am the only guy working.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Customer: *spills his water* “Uh, sorry, what did you say?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir; you have to leave. You’re damaging property and you’re scaring the customers.”

Customer: “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m schizophrenic and I… I just have these episodes.”

Me: “It’s fine, man; I understand, but you still have to leave.”

(The customer leaves, and I go back to the bathroom to see how big of a mess he made, but most of the water has evaporated. He left his phone charger and case on the floor, though, so I give them back to my manager and she holds onto them. The customer comes back in and bolts for the bathroom.)

Me: “Sir, you can’t go back in there. You need to leave now.”

Customer: “Yeah, I just, uh, forgot something in the bathroom.”

Manager: *brings him his stuff* “You have to leave now, sir, or I’m calling the cops.”

Customer: *very panicked* “Okay, okay. I’m leaving.”

(I head back into the bathroom, and I don’t know how I missed it, but there is a little baggie on the floor with some paper folded up in it. I unwrap it, and there is a brownish powder in it. I take it to my manager.)

Me: “So… I found this in the bathroom. What is it?”

Manager: “Well, that explains a lot. It’s meth.”

Must Be Having A Bad Day

, , , | Right | October 10, 2017

(I’m a bagger at a grocery store, and one of our jobs is to take a customer’s groceries out to their car and load it for them. As I am helping a customer out, I have this exchange.)

Me: “How was your day today?”

(The customer looks at me, horrified.)

Customer: “You don’t ask people that!”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “You don’t ask people that! It’s very rude!”

Me: “I’m sorry, I won’t ever do that again.”

When Science Socks It To You!

, , , , | Learning | October 10, 2017

(The class is entering their science period.)

Teacher: *bursting through the doors* “EVERYBODY OUT! I’VE BURNT A SOCK IN THE MICROWAVE!”

Entire Class: “What?”

Teacher: *waving us out* “Go, go!”

(A noticeable stench is wafting out of the classroom. The entire class follows the teacher.)

Me: *whispering to my friends* “How did she burn a sock in the microwave?”

(We ended up staying in the garden for the next hour or so. Ever since, that room has always smelled a little bit like burnt burritos.)

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