His Handicap Is A Lack Of Decency

, , , , , , | Right | December 29, 2017

(We share a parking lot with a restaurant with a lot of regulars. One has decided to be the self-appointed handicap spot judge. He will sit at the outside tables yelling whenever he thinks someone is parking in them inappropriately. We have received a ton of complaints about him, but mall security hasn’t caught him in the act yet, so he is still allowed on the premises. I’m grabbing lunch from the restaurant and see him outside, so I text security to come and keep an eye on him. Not long afterwards a car pulls into a handicap spot displaying proper tags. A young woman gets out of the driver’s seat.)

Regular: “Hey! What the f*** is your handicap? That you need a latte? B****! I’m talking to you! You can walk just fine! You’re taking that spot from someone who needs it! Let me guess: you got that tag on your knees in front of the doctor! Hey! Don’t ignore me!”

(The woman has completely ignored the rant, heading to the back of the car and pulling something out of the trunk. I’ve gotten video of the regular and texted it to security, who says he is on his way ASAP. By this point I’ve realized what the woman is getting out of the trunk: a walker. Next, she opens the back passenger door and helps out a small, extremely elderly woman. The regular hasn’t stopped his insults. The second the elderly woman gets her hands on the walker, she starts towards the regular. She stops in front of him, pulls off her hat, and starts to hit him over the head with it, furious.)

Elderly Woman: “You don’t call my granddaughter a b****! What is wrong with you?! Who raised you?!”

(The regular reels back, shocked, and security walks up to see the vengeful grandmother’s anger.)

Regular: “Make her stop!”

Security: “Ma’am, please stop. Sir, you’re officially banned from mall property for harassing other customers.”

Regular: “Harassing?! They’re the ones cheating the system. She—” *gesturing at the granddaughter* “—doesn’t need a handicap spot.”

Security: “No, but she—” *gesturing to the grandmother, who has sat down, exhausted from her exertion* “—probably does. Anyway, it’s none of your business. Ma’am, are you all right?”

Grandmother: “I’m 92 years old, and it’s been too long since I put an a**hole in his place. I’m fine!”

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A Mutt Of A Human

, , , , , , | Right | December 27, 2017

(I’m visiting family with my dog in tow, and I decide to hit the local big-box pet store to pick up some toys and treats for him, since we only really have boutique pet stores that are uber-expensive in the city I live in. Since it’s a pet store, I’ve brought my dog along for the trip.)

Customer: “Aw, he’s so cute! Can I pet him?”

Me: “Sure, he’d love that! He’s a big old cuddle bug.”

Customer: “He’s so friendly and fluffy!” *drops to a whisper* “I know this store wants everyone to adopt mutts that nobody wants, but I’d love to get a high-quality dog like yours. Are you breeding him or can you tell me what breeder you got him from?”

Me: “Um, actually, I rescued him from a shelter a couple years ago. He’s actually a ‘mutt,’ and, since he came from the shelter, he is fixed. I can give you the information for the shelter I rescued him from; it’s local. They often have smaller dogs like him up for adoption. They even sometimes have pure-bred or designer dogs, if you’re looking for a specific breed or breed mix.”

Customer: “What, do you work here?” *laughs* “I’d be willing to pay a handsome fee for one of his pups. Just tell me where you’re breeding him and I’ll go put a deposit down. Whatever you want for one of his pups, I’ll make it back breeding that puppy, anyway.”

Me: “Ma’am, don’t make me lift up his tail and show you that he has no balls. He. Is. A. Rescue. He’s fixed, and I am an avid supporter of adoption and rescue. I’m actually in this aisle because I’m going to buy a large bag of good dog food and donate it to the rescue I adopted him from. Again, I think it would be a good idea for you to consider adoption, but if you insist on buying a ‘papered’ dog, there are plenty of Amish puppy mills in the area that will sell you an expensive and sickly ‘purebred.’ Just go to any flea market and I’m sure you’ll find the ‘perfect’ dog you’re looking for.”

Customer: “Well, you don’t have to be so rude about it! I was just trying to make both of us some money! If you knew what was good for you, you wouldn’t have had his balls cut off!”

Me: “I know that I have a dog that was purchased from a flea market and summarily dumped at the pound when his owner was uninterested in doing the basics of dog ownership. I know that he cowers if you show your hand to him palm out, which leads me to believe she hit him. I know that he was flea-bitten and malnourished when she turned him in, and now he’s healthy and happy. And I know that he won’t be producing any puppies that just mean shelter dogs wait even longer, or even die, because shallow b****** need a cute accessory. That all makes me feel pretty good. You can keep the money. So, if you don’t mind, I’ll get back to buying that bag of food for the shelter, and a couple of toys and treats for him.”

Customer: “Well, I have never been addressed so rudely by a sad little girl. Have fun with your shaggy mutt!” *storms off*

(I mention this interaction to the cashier:)

Cashier: “Oh, yes. She comes in here a couple times a week looking for people who are breeding their dogs. She seems to target people with small-ish, long-hair dogs. She never really gets anywhere, and ends up leaving totally pissed off. She’s yelled at the rescue groups we host out front several times. I don’t know why management doesn’t just kick her out and tell her if she’s that dead-set on getting a designer dog, just go to the flea market up the street!”

The Importance Of Making Sandwiches

, , , , | Right | December 26, 2017

(I work at a well-known sandwich restaurant. I’ve been on my feet for eight hours without a break. I’m rather tired. A man in a fancy business suit walks up in a huff and looks at me funny.)

Me: “Welcome to [Restaurant].”

Customer: “Yeah, yeah.”

Me: “How are you today?”

Customer: “Tired. I’ve been working all day and only had a couple breaks.”

Me: “Yeah, I know how you feel; I’m tired, too. What can—”

Customer: “What would you know about being tired? It’s not like your job is important; you just make sandwiches for people all day. That’s not important.”

Me: *a little stunned* “Well, if my job isn’t important, then make your own sandwich.”

(I backed away from the counter and walked into the back room. The guy stood there for a good three minutes before realizing that I was not coming back. He finally left, but not before spewing out some profanity.)

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Christmas, A Time For Giving (Your Opinion)

, , , , , , , , , , | Related | December 21, 2017

(It is Christmas Day and I am cooking dinner for the first time, as my aunt has lost her leg and can no longer do it. She is making it very clear how she feels about it, as she has been doing it 30 years. I hear this conversation taking place.)

Aunt: “If I was cooking, we’d be eating by now. She’s taking ages.”

Mum: “Then go and ask her when it’ll be ready.”

Aunt: *annoyed* “Why should I? It should be done by now; she should hurry up. I don’t know why we couldn’t have it at your house, [Mum]; her house is awful. You can’t even go in the kitchen, because the door’s locked.”

Granddad: *annoyed* “Do you want it cooked properly or not?”

(More complaining ensues. We are now having dinner.)

Brother: “These potatoes are amazing. Are they homemade?”

Me: “Yes. I got the recipe online.”

Aunt: *annoyed* “I could have made these without a recipe on the Internet. You kids are so lazy these days. You could have asked me for a recipe. I don’t see why we should have to do this differently from last year. I could have made dinner, and it would have tasted a lot better than this, and—”

Granddad: *angry* “Would you shut up? You couldn’t cook dinner because you can barely walk. You can’t fit all seven of us into [Mum]’s small bungalow, and there is nothing wrong with [My Name]’s house. This dinner is delicious, and if you don’t like it, don’t f****** eat it.”

(My aunt shut up, finished her dinner, and went into the living room where she sulked for the remainder of the time she was here. It has been three weeks and she is still avoiding me.)

The Scam Of David

, , , , | Working | December 21, 2017

(My husband and I answer the phone at the same time. He speaks before I do, so I just listen to the standard beginning of the “Microsoft Support” scam call. When the caller says his name is David, I break into the conversation:)

Me: “Can you spell that?”

(He begins his spiel again. When he repeats his alleged name, I again ask him to spell it.)

Caller: *total silence for a full minute, then a click*

(Possibly the fastest I’ve ever gotten a nuisance caller to hang up!)

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