What, And We Cannot Stress This Enough, The F***?!

, , , , | Romantic | September 14, 2020

I work at a well-known grocery store, which is where this happens; an important detail is that I always wear bright red lipstick. Another thing is that, even though I’m twenty here, I still only look fifteen.

A couple in their fifties or so comes through my till with their cart full of groceries. As I check them out, the following interaction occurs.

Husband: “That’s nice lipstick you’re wearing.”

Me: “Oh, thank you!”

Husband: “Can I lick it off?”

I pause here, because I think he couldn’t have possibly said what I think he just said.

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Husband: “Can I lick it off?”

As I’m struggling for words, his wife steps in.

Wife: “You shouldn’t say that!”

Husband: “Why not?”

Wife: “She doesn’t like it!”

I’ve had enough of him.

Me: “Have a nice day, sir.”

Then, I turn to his wife, who is still being pleasant, and carry on the transaction, thoroughly creeped out. The guy leaves after a few seconds, and at the end, his wife apologizes.

Wife: “I’m sorry about him; he’s learning boundaries.”

Then, she left. If your husband is still learning boundaries in his mid-fifties, it’s time to throw the whole man out. It was probably the creepiest thing to happen during my time working there, and that’s saying something.

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Unfiltered Story #207912

, , | Unfiltered | September 9, 2020

A regular customer, who is notorious for trying to scam the store, walks into the store stopping at our little customer service desk. Since the chain recently got rid of the Service Clerk positions, it falls on cashiers to help customers that stop there. She’s standing there with her mother-in-law holding a fairly large flat box.

Me (cashier): Hello [customer’s name here], what can I help you with today?

Customer: Oh! My husband bought a case of the wrong size diapers for my baby. I want to return them. I don’t have the receipt, but my husband said he bought them here.

Me: Okay, could you take one out please so I can see the barcode. I’ll call my manager to look up the sold items so she can find the receipt.

I called the assistant manager to help with the look up. After listing off the numbers she takes a few minutes to double check her findings.

Manager: … I’ll be there in a moment. Make sure they don’t leave.

Turns out we don’t carry that size and never have. The assistant manager came down and told them the news. The mother-in-law’s eyes looked like they were gonna bulge right out of her head in repressed anger and the customer looks sheepish. My AM later called around and found that the local wholesale store recently had a theft of a couple boxes of infant diapers. Goes to show that if you’re trying to scam a store double check before you try any funny business.

Absolutely Despicable, Horrendous, And Dreadful

, , , , | Learning | September 1, 2020

I am in the fourth grade. It is the middle of the first month of school, and while most kids have shiny new pencil cases and things, my family is going through a rough patch and has been barely able to afford school fees for the four of us that go to school. So, I have my sister’s old sneakers and one pencil to last me for the month. I guard it fiercely.

For the fourth and fifth grade, I have a teacher who HATES me, mostly because I have ADHD and need to leave class twice a day to go get my medication and take it at the water fountain. It takes less than a minute and I usually remember on my own.

I slept in this morning and forgot my pencil case — with my pencil and sharpener inside — on my desk. So, I lean over and ask my friend for a pencil for the day.

My teacher turns around so fast she might have tapped into the speed force.

Teacher: “Stop disrupting the class.”

Me: “But I—”

Teacher: “You’re still doing it.”

Me: “I need a pencil. I forgot mine.” 

Teacher: “You should have thought of that earlier.”

She turns back to the projector. My friend quietly rolls a pencil across our shared table to me. 

After the lesson, the teacher turns back. She demands as I scribble in my last notes:

Teacher: “Where did you get that?”

Me: “My fr—”

Teacher: “I told you to stop disrupting other students with your disorganization. Give it back.”

Friend: “It’s fine, ma’am.”

Teacher: “No, she’s lazy and ungrateful. She needs to learn. Give it back.”

Me: *Standing up* “But I need my notes.”

Teacher: *Towering over me* “Don’t care. You should have pencils at home for homework so this doesn’t happen.”

Of course, this makes my ADHD just dig its tiny heels in. I am in the right. I’m not doing anything wrong.

Me: “We can’t afford that many and there are four kids in our house that need them. “

Teacher: “Oh, they can’t afford pencils but they can afford your medicine for your made-up disease?”

Me: *Shouting* “It’s not made-up! The doctor says it’s just not common in girls!”

I stamp my foot, tears starting to run down my face.

Teacher: “It’s not. Your family is just poor and trash, and your doctor is just making excuses for your messy habits and terrible grades.”

I am furious and embarrassed and crying up a storm.

Me: *Shouting* “You’re a dumb face!”

I leave the class, attempting to slam the door behind me. I then walk to the office, still sobbing my little heart out. When I get there, my principal is waiting. 

The principal is one of the few people who knows that my dad has been fired for being very sick and that my parents are very close to a divorce. So, she invites me in and listens to me blubber out what happened. She then calls my dad, who is at the school faster than you could eat a candy bar.

I have never seen my father so angry in his life than when I burst into tears when he enters the office and my principal explains what happened. It isn’t his usual volcano; it is quieter, like a freezing knife. 

Father: “Go get your coat. Your sister can get your homework.”

Me: “It’s recess; there’s no one in class.”

Principal: “I’ll help you get it.”

The three of us go to my class. My teacher is there and she goes as white as a sheet when she sees my dad.

I have no idea what he said to her while I got my coat and bag but she never outright looked me in the eye again.

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Giving The Misogynists A Good Dressing-Down

, , , , , , | Learning | August 27, 2020

I teach at an international school for adult students learning English as a second language. Obviously, navigating cultural differences between students is an inherent part of the job. 

For the second year in a row that I’ve been at this school, at a staff meeting, an older male teacher has brought up the fact that many of the female students are wearing “revealing” clothing. It’s summer, so we’re talking things like tank tops and shorts — nothing that would get you arrested. Nevertheless, he’s previously suggested that we should have a dress code.

Male Teacher: “I mean, shouldn’t we do something about this?”

Our headteacher is also a middle-aged man.

Head Teacher: *Pause* “Does something need to be done?”

Male Teacher: “Well, I mean, in particular, it attracts a lot of attention from some of the boys, especially the ones from more conservative countries where women don’t dress like that. They’re distracted and they, you know, talk and make comments.”

One of the new teachers, who’s younger and a woman, pipes up. 

Female Teacher: “You’re absolutely right, [Male Teacher]. We should do something. Thanks for bringing that up.”

Everyone looks up in surprise, since the female teacher is known for her outspoken feminism. She continues.

Female Teacher: “I’m so glad you agree that someone should talk about appropriate conduct to these young people. They need to be reminded that, in a multicultural environment, they have to be aware of differences between what is considered respectful and acceptable to their peers, and that there is no excuse for making other people uncomfortable.”

A few teachers, I included, catch on and start smiling.

Female Teacher: “To that end, [Male Teacher], I’m glad you’ve volunteered to talk to the counselors and ask that the students be reminded that ogling and commenting on their classmates in a sexual way is flatly disgusting behavior that will not be tolerated. It doesn’t matter if that’s an okay way to talk in their country; it isn’t here. This is a learning environment and our students should feel safe, not judged and objectified. 

Head Teacher: “Very well said! Thank you, [Female Teacher]; you’re absolutely right.”

Female Teacher: “And thank you, [Male Teacher], for being so sensitive to this problem. So many people would ignore it, or even try to blame it on the young women in this situation.”

She smiled at him like the purest, most innocent angel; he nodded like he was in pain, and never brought up the idea of having a dress code ever again.

This story is part of our Best Of August 2020 roundup!

Read the next Best Of August 2020 story!

Read the Best Of August 2020 roundup!

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Unfiltered Story #206204

, , | Unfiltered | August 25, 2020

(We have a Gray, 15ft ladder that is specifically used for the Balloon Wall we have at the front of the store. The floor crew sometimes use this ladder when we need to do some stocking that is dangerous on our other ladders; as this one is more of a staircase-style ladder. Today, Myself and another member of the floor crew had been stocking some heavy helium tanks on top of one of our isles using the ladder, and left it in place to get more of the tanks. The ‘Employees Only’ chain is on it, but there are at least three children playing on it while their mother is shopping nearby when we return. Please note that we are close to a very wealthy neighborhood, and every team member has a radio on them.)

Me: Excuse me, ma’am, but your children can’t play on the ladder – it isn’t safe for them.

Mother: My precious angels can do whatever they want!

Me: No, they can’t. Notice the ‘Employee Only’ sign on that chain?

Mother: If they get hurt, I’m blaming you and the store anyway. Sue you for all you have, which probably isn’t much anyway.

Me: *launches into our liability spiel, which pretty much explains that I’ve given a verbal warning to her and the children and that I or the store cannot be held responsible if the children get hurt.*

Mother: I don’t care about any of that! My husband is a wealthy lawyer! I will sue if they get hurt, and win!

(We both hear a loud “THUNK” and the sudden sound of crying – one of the kids has hit his head on the cross-bar of the ladder. The mother drops what she’s holding and rushes to pick him up, coddling him)

Mother: Look what you’ve done, you wretched b****! I’m going to sue you for everything your poor a** has! You’ll be out of the job for this! *She starts throwing napkins and plates at me and my coworker, in full view of everyone at the registers*

(The whole time during this exchange, my coworker – unbeknownst to me – has been pressing the talk button on his radio. He says something I can’t hear, as I’m trying to clean up the items she is throwing at me. Suddenly my boss – a younger Asian man, has appeared in the isle.)

Boss: What is going on here? Why are you throwing things at my employees?!

Mother: She did it! This fata**, Incompetent b**** caused my precious angel to fall and hurt himself! I demand she be fired!

Boss: I’m not going to fire one of the best floor specialists because you and your child ignore safety signs. I heard her over the radio explain our liability and accountability contract, which states that a verbal warning is all she needed to give you. I will also not allow anyone to talk to any of my staff like this, especially the members of staff who have been here longer than I have been. Our employees are here to work, not to babysit. I am going to have to ask you and your children to leave, since you’ve shown that you cannot listen when someone says ‘no’.

Mother: *grabbing her children, two of which were STILL playing on the ladder* Well then! I’ve never been so rudely spoken to in my life! I’m still going to sue! Your c**** a** and that fata** c*** will be seeing me in court! *promptly leaves, with her children crying as she drags them away*

Boss: *turning to me* Go for a break… Lunch is on me for you having to deal with this.

(We got a very amusing email from our district manager the next day, talking about a crazy woman who demanded the “short fat girl with no hair and the stupid Korean” to be fired!)