(I work alone most days, as it’s a small store and the start of the work week is usually pretty slow. I’m also a fairly short woman at 5’3″ and come across as pretty meek. I’m currently working on a stock reorder, when a man I’ve never seen before comes into my empty store.)

Me: “Hi there! Anything I can help you find today?”

Customer #1: “Do you guys sell Pokémon cards?”

Me: “No, sorry. We don’t carry them.”

Customer #1: “Do you buy cards?”

Me: “No, we don’t, but [Other Store] does. It’s what they’re known for, actually. Is there anything else I can help you with, though?”

(A married couple comes through the door and starts looking at the shelves of chess sets next to it. [Customer #1] gives a quick look over his shoulder and shakes his head.)

Customer #1: “That’s fine. I’ll just look around.”

(He then moves further into the store towards the rack we keep our card sleeves on, so I assume that he’s interested in finding something for his card collection. I greet the new customers and inform them that if they need anything they just have to ask, but they’re pretty content and continue to look over the games there while I go back to my previous task. Two minutes later, I can hear this strange rustling just to the side of me behind the counter.)

Me: *to myself* “That sounds like wrapping paper. What the…?”

(That’s when I see something moving out of the corner of my eye, and turn just in time to see [Customer #1]’s arm pulling back around the corner of the counter with a sealed box of an expensive and popular card game that we store under the gift wrapping, some of which was hanging over the lip of its shelf and had brushed against his arm while he was reaching inside. I immediately go after the guy as he shoves the whole box into the front of his hoodie.)

Me: *in a surprisingly loud and stern voice* “EXCUSE ME?! Give that back to me, right NOW!”

Customer #1: *barely looks at me as he starts to run for the door, with the box clearly outlined on his stomach* “What?! I didn’t take anything!”

(The guy is at least a foot taller than me and is built like a linebacker, so even while I’m running after him, I’m thinking to myself, “Just what am I going to do if I catch him?” As he hits the door to shove it open, though, the husband’s arm snaps out and grabs the thief’s arm before anyone even realizes what he’s doing, and they both go tumbling out into the street with the wife and me close behind.)

Customer #1: *struggles to pull himself free of the arm-lock he’s suddenly found himself in while the other man holds on to him tightly* “Let go! You can’t do this!”

Me: “Give me back the d*** box!”

Customer #1: “I didn’t take anything!”

Me: “I can see it!”

(I start to reach for the box, ready to rip his hoodie open on the spot, even as a crowd gathers around to see what all the noise is about.)

Customer #1: “Fine! Whatever!” *scowls at me as he opens his jacket and hands the box back* “Now let go!”

(With that, he finally pulls his arm free and stomps off through the crowd before any of us can say anything about it.)

Wife: *to her husband, clearly worried about him* “My God! What were you thinking?!”

Husband: *gives a small shrug as he watches the other man storm away with a look of surprise* “I wasn’t. I just did it… He’s really big, huh?”

(Though not as short as me, this gentleman is still a good three or four inches shorter and 75 pounds or more lighter than the guy he nabbed at the door.)

Me: “Thank you so much! I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t have grabbed him when you did!”

Husband: “Ye-yeah. I’m really surprised I did, too.”

(He chuckles a bit as he becomes more aware of just how badly things could have turned, then hugs his wife.)

Husband: *in a joking tone* “I don’t suppose there’s a dumb heroics discount, huh?”

Me: *completely serious* “Yes. Yes, there is, sir. What can I get for you?”

(I am waiting for a large sushi party tray at a sushi takeout place, when I overhear the following exchange between a customer and the cashier.)

Customer: “I’m here to pick up my order; my wife called earlier today. It’s under [Customer’s Wife].”

Cashier: *looks through papers* “I’m sorry, I can’t find anything under that name. The Wi-Fi was down earlier. Maybe it got lost somehow?”

Customer: “But my wife said she spoke to you earlier!” *takes out cell phone and dials a number* “Here, talk to her yourself.” *hands the phone to the cashier*

Cashier: *on phone* “Hello?” *pause* “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember any call.” *pause* “Are you sure?” *pause* “I’m sorry. Thank you.” *hangs up and hands phone back to man* “We have another location in [Other City]; maybe she called there by mistake?”

(The cashier is still trying to be polite and nice, even though she’s getting visibly flustered at how annoyed the customer is looking.)

Customer: “Well, can you take my order now?”

Cashier: “Sure, we can make it now, if you don’t mind waiting. What would you like?”

Customer: “Okay. I’d like three large cheese.”

Cashier: *clearly confused as to what cheese sushi he could possibly be referring to* “Cheese?”

Customer: “Yes. Three large cheese pizzas and one medium pepperoni.”

(The cashier, the one other customer, and I all look at the man in shock.)

Cashier: “Pizza?! But this is a sushi place! We don’t make pizza!”

Customer: “But you just said you’d make it!” *getting more annoyed by the second*

Cashier: “But this a sushi store! We don’t have the ovens for pizza!”

Customer: “Why didn’t you say so earlier?!” *storms out the door*

Me: *looking around at the obvious sushi takeout place* “Why didn’t you realize that earlier?!”

I work in the security industry, as a concierge in a condominium.

A few years back, a coworker was told to train a new guy who was rather dimwitted, slow to learn, and annoying. I know because I had him for training for one shift.

[Coworker] told me later that he got tired of training the new guy and went to the condo party room to watch television, leaving the very inept trainee to manage the lobby desk by himself. I warned [Coworker] that the party room looked out onto the back patio where the BBQ grill was, and that the curtains were very see-through. If a resident went out on the back patio and peered through the windows, they’d see it was a security officer sitting there watching television, which we were obviously not paid to do, and would complain, getting us all in trouble. He laughed and waved it off.

He told me the next day that he was forced to continue training the same inept guy, so he ran off to watch television again. I warned him, again, not to do that.

The next time he bragged to me about watching television on duty, I just contacted my Client Service Manager — the security company manager responsible for our team — and told him what [Coworker] was doing. I’d reported other security officers for risking the team with their own personal antics. I don’t like being a snitch; I like having a stable work place where fellow officers aren’t screwing it up for us by being selfish d**ks.

Apparently, [Coworker] was called into the office and when told to explain himself, said that yes, he had been watching television, and then went on to say that I was spreading crazy gossip about him to anyone who would listen, and that I was mean, so wasn’t that worse than his television-watching offense? For the record, I had never gossiped about him, nor was I ever mean to him. I just asked him to stop risking our jobs with his unprofessional behavior, and he blew me off.

I got called into HQ the next day. That manager had a form for me to sign. “[My Name]? Why does it seem you like to backstab other officers? [Coworker] told me about you gossiping about him, and I see you’ve reported other officers who needed disciplining. That’s why I’m having you sign this form where you acknowledge that you’re a gossip, and you swear to never be caught for gossiping ever again, or more serious consequences will happen. This will go into your permanent file. Do you understand?”

I argued that I had never gossiped about [Coworker], and those other security officers had been problems, and my manager said, “Oh, really? Because [Coworker] said you have. Why would he come in here and lie to my face? He sounded very sincere every time I’ve had to speak with him, and you have been involved with the disciplining of several officers. No… I think you are the one lying because you enjoy getting other guards in trouble. Sign this or face disciplinary action.”

I was so floored and cowed that I stupidly signed the d***ed thing just so I could get the hell out of there.

Thankfully, not long after, this manager was fired for being caught on camera cheating on his wife with residents in buildings when he was there for manager meetings. No one cared he was cheating. They cared that he was there for a meeting with the building’s property manager but instead was seen feeling up a resident of the building. Other officers said he would sometimes touch female officers, too. My company finally got fed up and fired him, but not before he did a ton of damage to many innocent officers.Thankfully, I got out of that company, and I am now working for a much better local security company. I will never forget what that a**hole manager did.

(I just had jaw surgery, so I am in the hospital for a few days with a swollen face, and my jaw is wired shut. I really can’t speak. I wake up in the middle of the night. My sister is sleeping in the guest chair, but I can feel the pain easing in on my face, so I decide to hail the nurse using a button on the side of the bed. Instead of the nurse coming to see what I need, she proceeds to use the speaker attachment. You can probably see where this is going.)

Nurse: “Hello, honey, what do you need?”

Me: “…”

Nurse: “What do you need?”

Me: *internal screaming*

(They did eventually come.)

(A fellow I used to know had a bit of a feud going on with some members of his family at one point. What they were doing was repeatedly going to the post office and redirecting his mail, which, of course, was illegal. When he went to the post office to fix it, they wouldn’t do anything to fix the problem and even allowed it to happen again. He was at his wits’ end, so I coached him on how to fix the problem with the post office. First, I coached him on the importance of only doing it when there were a lot of people in there — an audience if you will. Here is the process I gave him.)

Postal Worker: “Good morning, sir. How may I help you?”

Friend: “Good morning.” *drops phone book on counter and open to a random page* “This person, here: I want their mail redirected to—” *flips phone book to another random page* “—this address, here.” *flips to another page* “And this person, here—” *again flipping page* “I want it sent here.”

Postal Worker: *aghast* “SIR! I can’t allow you to redirect other people’s mail! It isn’t legal!”

Friend: *loudly* “Why not? You’ve let other people do it to me four times in the last month. I should be able to screw other people over, too!”

(Other people waiting in line started to murmur. The upshot was that the station master was called to the front, and his mail was set up requiring picture ID to be presented before his mail could be redirected, thereby ending the problem.)