They Can Feel Their Options Contracting

, , , , , | Right | December 12, 2019

(I work at a well-known electronics chain. We sell cell phones to anyone who wants one; however, since there is a contract involved, there are laws that we must follow while activating.)

Customer: “Hi, I’m looking for a really basic cell phone for my grandmother.”

Me: “Not a problem. Is she looking for prepaid or a contract plan?”

Customer: “She has prepaid right now and wants a contract.”

Me: “Sounds good to me. Let’s take a look at [Major Cell Phone Company]’s phones and plans.”

(We go over plans and phones and find a good fit.)

Customer: “Does she have to be here for activation?”

Me: “Yes, she does, as we have to review and sign the contract.”

Customer: “Well, could I get the required information to you and have her call you to give consent?”

Me: “Unfortunately not, as we have to have her in the store before we can activate a phone in her name. It’s for our safety as much as it is for hers.”

Customer: “Can she give consent, or have [power of attorney] give you permission to activate it?”

Me: “We still need to have her sign a contract and the law says she has to be present.”

Customer: “God, I get farther with [Insurance Company] than with you guys!” *throws pamphlet and walks out*

Me: “Really?”

This Is The Direct Bus To Justice

, , , | Legal | December 10, 2019

My wife and I are on a bus. Some women get on the bus talking in Papiamento. My wife has lived for some time in Aruba and understands every word they are saying. She tells me, “They are planning on robbing the bus driver.”

I head to the bus driver and warn him what’s about to happen. He immediately calls his control center and tells them what’s about to happen. He gets orders to keep driving and don’t stop. 

The women get anxious because they obviously planned to rob the driver at the next bus stop. The driver gets a signal that it is okay to stop at the next bus stop. 

As soon as he pulls over, the women get up and start threatening the bus driver. He hands them the money and opens the doors. The women get out with their loot only to be greeted by some policemen. Of course, they all get arrested.

We leave the bus during the consternation and have a great day. No one ever found out who “the snitch” was that helped to catch some robbers, and that’s just fine with us.

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They Ended Up Spending Quality Time Together After All

, , , , , , | Legal | December 4, 2019

(I am picking up some stuff for Christmas dinner with my family, looking like a cross between a college student and hipster, when a rather rude man approaches me.)

Rude Man: “Hey, hot momma, where you been hiding?”

Me: *instantly on guard* “Nowhere that concerns you. Excuse me, please.”

Rude Man: *doing his best to block my exit* “Where you think you’re going? Here I am being a nice guy, and you just blow me off!”

Me: “I apologize; I am in a bit of a hurry and not feeling up to chatting with a strange man at the store. I need to get past you so I can check out and get home to my family. Please step aside, now.”

(I admit, the word “now” came out with more force than I intended. The man is over a foot taller than me, blocking me into a very small space, and causing me to feel very crowded. I have PTSD from some pretty nasty events I have experienced at work, and I dislike being blocked off, so my “work” personality is creeping out. As a brief backstory, I work in a maximum-security prison, but I do not look like it in any way when I am not at work. I purposely make sure I look feminine and am friendly when off-the-clock as it takes a toll to always be the tough guy. Unfortunately, that, coupled with the fact I look barely 18, makes me be underestimated by basically everyone. At this point, the man starts to puff up; he shifts his stance to be more aggressive and “intimidating.”)

Rude Man: *while leaning towards me* “You need to change your tone, little lady, or a man might have to step up and change it for you.”

Me: *internally sighing from frustration* “Bigger and scarier men than you have tried; you are not even phasing me at this point. Step aside, and let me get home to my family. I am not about to deal with this nonsense when I am off the clock.”

Rude Man: *clenching his fists and acting like he is about to either grab at me or swing* “I am not done talking to you yet!”

(He started to raise his voice and started swearing at me and threatening me. This allowed the clerk at the register nearby to realize that there was a person being blocked by this troll, and he and another male employee came over and helped to defuse the situation, allowing me to get to the register and out of the store. I promptly forgot about this man shortly after regaling my family with the story while popping some popcorn for our movie bash that night. What brings me to write this story now is that a few hours ago, I was processing some new intakes from our diagnostic facility and came across one with a 15- to 50-year sentence, recently convicted, and already with a staff-assault under his belt and pending in the court system, that looked oddly familiar. When I collected him from intake to restrain and escort him to our segregation unit, he got a deer-in-headlights look before saying, “S***, I f***** up now.” It was the guy from the store, and turns out he has a few assault charges now.)

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Protect The Dog, And Everyone Will Protect You  

, , , , , , | Right | December 2, 2019

(I’m hearing impaired, and because of this I have both hearing aids and a service dog who I bring with me everywhere in case my hearing aids fail. He’s very friendly. One day as I’m buying treats for my dog at a grocery store, a woman comes over.)

Woman: “Hello. I thought you weren’t allowed to have dogs in here.”

Me: “Oh, no. He’s a service dog.”

Woman: *immediately outraged* “YOU STOLE A BLIND PERSON’S SERVICE DOG! HOW DARE YOU?!”

Me: “Oh, no, ma’am, I have a hearing impediment; I bring him with me in case my hearing aids fail—”


(The woman tries to yank my dog’s leash from my hand, but the end of the leash loops around my shoulder, so it doesn’t really work too well.)

Woman: “GIVE ME THE DOG, YOU B****!”

(By this point she had drawn the attention of several employees, who were looking on in horror. Most employees are told not to touch other shoppers without consent, in case of lawsuits, so they just urged the women to let go of my dog, which she ignored. She then grabbed my dog by the tail. He started crying out in pain, and I did the first thing I could think of to protect my poor dog. I punched her twice: once in the stomach and again in the face. She let go right when the police arrived; she insisted I be arrested, but she herself was arrested for assault. I decided to press charges and I won the case, mainly because I had witnesses and store footage to back me up. She went to jail and had to pay me a large sum of money. Needless to say, my dog ate well after that!)

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The Bane Of The Cane

, , , , , , | Friendly | December 1, 2019

(I was recently diagnosed with MS. I’m not so bad off as others are — yet — but I do need a cane for walking most days. The first cane I own is a dark red wooden one that twists at the bottom. I’m going to lunch on a workday and I park in a handicap space in front of a restaurant in a strip mall and put up my bright blue placard on the rear-view. I’m perfectly capable of getting out of the car and standing up without my cane, so I do so, and I reach in to get my cane after.)

Stranger: “Hey, [homophobic slur!]!”

(I straighten back up, with my cane, and turn to face a man roughly half-again my size with an unkempt gray beard lurching toward me from the sidewalk. The sane reaction would be to get back in my car through the open door, shut it, and lock it behind me, but I freeze in place, my entire body tensed up. This man jabs a finger into my collarbone hard enough to hurt, and I remember what’s on the shirt I’m wearing; a rainbow-colored alteration of a well-known logo.)

Stranger: “Is being a [slur] a disability now?! Who the h*** do you think you are?!”

(I slowly raise my shaking hand and point at my cane.)

Stranger: “I just saw you get out of your car by yourself! You don’t need that!”

(He tries to grab it, but I pull my hand back. He settles for smacking me upside the forehead. It takes me a second to even realize what just happened. I’ve never been outright assaulted by a stranger before, but somehow this is where I finally find my voice, even if it quivers and breaks as I speak.)

Me: “If you touch me again, I will act in self-defense.”

(He gave an “Oh, really?” smirk and smacked me in the ear before I could react. I panicked and wildly slammed my cane against the side of his face with every bit of strength I could muster, and then threw the cane into the car and dove in after it, finally shutting the door and locking it. The man started pounding on my window while holding a hand against the bloody side of his face and shouting nothing I could understand. I got my keys from my pocket, started the car, and got out of there as fast as I could. Thankfully, the man didn’t try to leap on my windshield or anything. As I drove, I looked over at my cane and saw that it was nearly broken through near the handle, and the splinters were smeared with blood. Several blocks away, I stopped to dial 911. To summarize the rest, someone in the restaurant had already called 911 when the guy first accosted me, I now have a restraining order, and he’s awaiting trial, even though according to him, he didn’t do anything to me that he wouldn’t do to his own kid if they were being stupid. And I still haven’t replaced my cane. Even knowing it could have been much worse, I have nightmares, and I’m too afraid to use my handicap placard any more. Thanks, random stranger.)

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