Unfiltered Story #92752

, , | Unfiltered | August 30, 2017

(I’m doing a trash run at my store. I’m already in a rotten mod because the trash room is overflowing, the third shift crew ignored it…again, and the trash collectors won’t come until the next day…maybe. I have one can left to change, an outside double can with trash on one side and recycling on the other. My rotten mood turns absolutely foul on seeing that the can apparently hasn’t been touched for twelve hours, and is absolutely overflowing. As if that wasn’t bad enough, there are three bags of trash piled on TOP of the can! They look like they’re full of plastic bags. As I’m fuming and trying to decide the best way to clean up the mess, a coworker comes out for her smoke break. She takes one look, and comes over to help. She picks up one of the bags on top of the can….)

Coworker: “Oh. These are diapers. These are full of dirty diapers.”

Me: “Are you serious?!”

Coworker: “Oh, yeah. *picks up the other bags* These are all full of dirty diapers.”

(Yeah…some lazy, ignorant PIG thought our trash can would make a great diaper pail! It took four trips to empty the can, two trips per side.)

Unfiltered Story #92750

, , | Unfiltered | August 30, 2017

This really isn’t a story about anyone not working. This cashier was actually a peach.

I’d had a pretty crap day and was in a terrible mood. My daughter and I stopped at a convenience store to pick up sandwiches for dinner. I got a drink for the daughter who was not with us and even chips but after paying and watching the clerk bag it all, I realized I’d forgotten to get her a sandwich. Annoyed with my continuing bad day, I grabbed another sandwich for a second transaction.

Clerk: Anything else?

Me: Yes, we’ll take a lottery ticket too. My luck can only improve today.

Clerk: Okay then. That will be $6.66.

He quickly winced.

I handed over $7 and realized what he’d said. I looked at my daughter whose eyes were big. We both burst out laughing.

Daughter: I always knew you were a witch.

The clerk let out a clear sigh.

Clerk: Oh, you’d be surprised at the number of folks who get upset when that total comes up.

Me: I may just have to come in for a sandwich and lottery ticket every day. That was just what I needed. Thanks for the laugh.

I actually felt a whole lot better after that silly little exchange. Sometimes it’s the little things.

Unfiltered Story #91928

, , | Unfiltered | August 23, 2017

(Our gas pumps are temporarily out of order. There are bags on each pump handle, an out of order sign on each display, and caution tape wrapped around the entirey of the pumps.)

Customer: *drives car through caution tape breaking it*

Customer: *tears sign off display*

Customer: *tears bags off handle and triea to pump gas*

Customer: *hits help button*

Me: *walks out to pump*

Customer: This pump isn’t working! This is unacceptable!

Me: Ma’am, our gas pumps are temporarily out of service. I appoligize for the inconvenience.

Customer: Well you should do something to let people know and not waste their time! *jumps back in car and floors it through the other side of the caution tape*

Not A Corn-Fed Hippy

, , , , | Right | August 22, 2017

(A guy dressed as a hippy, with a slightly pungent unwashed odour (with warm cannabis notes) greets me. I notice he’s got a swastika tattooed between his eyebrows. I am Jewish so tempted to find another colleague to help him as it makes me feel uncomfortable; however, I decide that I would not want to inflict his odour on anybody else.)

Hippy: “Hey, man, what are these?”

Me: “Those are Sun Bites.”

Hippy: “Are they crisps?”

Me: “Kinda, they’re corn snacks rather than potato chips.”

Hippy: “So… like Pringles?”

Me: “More similar to Skips or Wotsits. Pringles are potato snacks.”

Hippy: “So…. corn isn’t potato?”

Me: “Nope.”

Hippy: “Ah, MAN! So how does it grow?”

(Wanting to get rid of this crazy swastika hippy.)

Me: “Well, potatoes grown in the ground; corn is grown above ground. You have Pringle roots for Pringles. These come from Sun Bites berries, Skips come from a Skips tree, and Wotsits come from a Wotsits bush — which you have to hunt rather than farm.”

Hippy: *grabs a six pack of Sun Bites and wanders off towards the till, exclaiming as he goes* “Ah, MAN. Oh, wow. Oh ,DUDE. FAR OUT. F****** FAR OUT. Oh, my days. OH, MAN!”

(I vaguely wonder if he is an alien who had been transported here to 2015 equipped with ’70s sayings.)

Literally A Flammable Situation

, , , , , | Right | August 18, 2017

(Back in 1996, working an afternoon at the popular local convenience store with gas pumps. Gas is about $1.25 a gallon. Multiple cars at the pumps, a line of customers waiting inside at the register to pay. A little old lady comes up…)

Old Lady: “What do I owe on pump four?”

Me: *checking the pump total* “$13.96.”

Old Lady: “That doesn’t sounds right. Please make sure you’re looking at the right pump. Number four.”

Me: *checking again* “Huh, that’s weird. It’s $14.67, now.”

(My manager is organizing the shelves nearby and gives me a weird look.)

Old Lady: “That can’t be right; my tank has a hole in it and can only hold about $8 dollars of gas.”

(My manager, a 4’11” woman, LEAPS over the service counter, palming the emergency pump shutoff, races to the aisle with cat food, shoots out the front door with a bag of kitty litter, shouting “Call the fire department!” at me and “GET AWAY FROM THE PUMPS” to everyone outside.)

Old Lady: “So, will $8 be enough?”

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