Unfiltered Story #177102

, , , | Unfiltered | November 8, 2019

(My class and I were loading our luggage on a bus to go to our retreat. All the guys finished loading their bags and proceeded to enter the bus. As we were entering, this happens.)

Teacher: (to us) Don’t you see all off these ladies trying to put their stuff on the bus?

Guys: Yes

Teacher: Why don’t go boys go help them.

Classmate: (Teacher) it’s 2015, don’t you know that women are strong now?

(After hearing that, all the guys enter the bus)

The Five-Minute Mark Is When They Call The Police

, , , , , | Working | November 7, 2019

(I am a very punctual person. Every day, I go to lunch at the same time, down to the exact minute. On this day, I’m getting my car smog-checked during my lunch break, so I warn my officemate that I may be a bit late returning. I don’t bother telling anyone else, because I have no planned meetings and I figure no one will notice or care. This is what happens when I walk back in.)

Coworker #1: *opening the door for me* “We’ve been waiting for you!”

Coworker #2: “[My Name]! We were worried; I was sure something must have happened to you!”

(I was four minutes late.)

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Played It To Oblivion

, , , , , , | Right | November 7, 2019

At our game store, we used to have a policy that customers could try out any game in the store. It really helped cut down on returns. This meant, however, that we would get a few customers who would abuse this policy.

One man would come in almost daily and spend hours playing games, rarely purchasing anything.

When this happened, The Elder Scrolls: Oblivion had come out. The man was coming in daily and spent literally hours standing in one spot and playing the game. 

I would inform him every half hour or so that he needed to take a break and could not just play games all day. He would save, walk away for a minute, and jump right back to it when I started working on something else.

After a few days of this, I was tired of him.

The next time he came in, he played Oblivion for a solid five hours. I didn’t bother him once. When he finally took his leave of the game and I was sure he was gone, I loaded up his game and dumped almost a week’s worth of progress in one part of the map. Then, I sent his character across the map to the woods and left his character naked and alone. Finally, I deleted every save file except this one, and shut the game off.

The next time the man came in, he asked to play Oblivion. I gladly obliged, put the game in, and walked away. I can still remember him sputtering and frantically trying to search for a way to get his progress back.

When he demanded to know what had happened, I politely told him that this was a store game and everyone had access to the save files. If he wanted to be able to play without the risk of someone else having access to it, he would probably want to actually buy the game.

He was practically in tears when he left, but he did finally buy the game and take it home.

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Did You Just Assume My Incorrect Gender?

, , , , | Right | November 5, 2019

(I am a woman, and I work at a theme park as a caricature artist. My uniform is extremely unflattering, and I have a short haircut and an apparently androgynous face. However, my measurements are also 38″-28″-44″ at the time; I have a DD-cup bust line with an hourglass figure that the saggy, baggy uniform I have to wear can almost totally disguise from certain angles. The following occurs as I am closing up a register at a caricature booth near the front exit.)

Customer: “Hey, guy!”

(He whistles and snaps his fingers as if commanding a dog. I overhear him but figure he obviously must be talking to someone else.)

Customer: “Hey, guy!”

(He approaches me, snapping again, and I realize that as I am bent over my calculator at the counter, my baggy shirt is totally hiding my ample assets. He IS talking to me! I hate being snapped at, but I smile and glance up without unbending from my work.)

Me: “Can I help you, sir?”

(Unfortunately for him, I speak in an alto/tenor register.)

Customer: “Yeah, man, which way is the park exit?”

(I stand upright to point to my left, and my shape is suddenly… very much in evidence.)

Me: “The park exit is right over there, sir.”

Customer: *staring* “Oh. Oh, God.” *mortified and horrified, while I am trying so very hard to keep a straight face and not bust up laughing at his sudden expression* “I am so sorry.”

Me: *grinning, but sympathetic* “There’s really no way to back out of that one is there, sir? You have a great evening.”

(The poor man bolted for the park exit, and I waited until he was out of earshot to start laughing out loud.)

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Marshalling Kids Is Harder Than Catching Criminals

, , , , , | Learning | November 5, 2019

(I’m the kid of a federal defense attorney, and my dad signed me up for a take-your-kid-to-work day event, which takes kids whose parents are employed by the government in the judicial branch and helps them learn all about court, complete with some lectures, sentencing, mock trial, and court marshall activities. We’re on the court marshall activity, and keep in mind that I’m pretty small, especially my wrists. One court marshal asks for a volunteer for a demonstration, and I eagerly raise my hand and he picks me.)

Marshall: “So, we’re going to be showing you how we handcuff people now, with our lovely volunteer.”

(He goes through all the steps and fastens the handcuffs, but I quickly notice they aren’t made for children, so if I squeeze very hard, I can get them off. I hold the cuffs with one hand in front of me while the marshall continues to talk, one hand on my shoulder to demonstrate that you should not let go once they are handcuffed. The other kids start to giggle, noticing I got out.)

Marshall: “What’s so funny?”

Random Kid: “She’s escaping!”

(The marshall looks back at me in surprise.)

Marshall: “Well, I guess you’ve demonstrated the need to keep your eyes on the person you’re handcuffing!”

(Later, on a different activity, he started to teach me a move on how to use my small size to my advantage. He was a pretty awesome guy, especially as a volunteer!)

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