My supermarket sometimes has a donation trolley after the tills. The idea is that you buy an extra packet of whatever and donate it to charity. It’s a pretty good idea and the trolley gets full of food going to good causes.

As I’m waiting to pay, I see an old lady at the trolley; she is acting a bit odd and catches my eye. I watch her dig around the food, looking for something, and then take it out and put it in her own trolley.

Me: “Err, excuse me. You can’t just take that.”

Old Lady: “What are you muttering about?”

Me: “You can’t take that; that’s for charity.”

Old Lady: *Screeching* “I’m going to pay for it!”

Me: “No, you can’t pay for it; it doesn’t belong to the store anymore. You need to buy from the shelves.”

Cashier: “Look, leave it. She often does this.”

Me: “You realise you are stealing money, right? Like some sort of embezzlement or something.”

Cashier: “It’s fine. She does it all the time.”

Me: “You’re allowing her to steal from a charity and then pocketing the money. It’s not fine.”

Cashier: “Are you going to pay? It’s [total].”

I was shocked that my donations were being resold. I stopped by the customer service desk where they gave me a standard “We will look into it.” I doubted this would go anywhere, so I dropped an email to the head office.

To my surprise, someone asked for my number and called me back. They actually took things seriously and called me again, detailing every step they’d taken: new signage, training, moving the trolley, etc. 

Hopefully, those in need the most will now benefit from others’ generosity rather than an old crone who can’t be bothered to go to a shelf for her own shopping.

I work in a small company where everyone knows everyone, so I am surprised to see a new face in the break room. Oddly, the newcomer also seems to know a group of other guys that have worked here for a while as he is having a loud and “lively” chat.

I sit down at a nearby table and can’t help but listen in.

New Guy: “It’s just bulls***.”

Coworker: “So, what happened?”

New Guy: “They suspended me for my ‘attitude.’ They were going to fire me, but [Ex-Team Leader] left so they had to let me back.”

Coworker: “They just brought you back, just like that?”

New Guy: “Yeah, something about there being no evidence anymore.”

Coworker: “Sounds like he did you a favour.”

New Guy: “No, he’s a d**k — all management are. Just because I was a bit late once.”

Coworker: “To be fair, [New Guy], you were late a lot. Didn’t you threaten [Ex-Team Leader]?”

New Guy: “Yeah, but they had no proof. Besides, what’s the problem?”

Coworker: “Err… yeah.”

New Guy: “I’ve got a meeting with that human resources b****, and then I’m gonna spend the afternoon getting some shut-eye in my car where there’re no cameras.”

Coworker: “Yeah… thing is, mate, I’m the new team leader. You report to me now, and we can’t have your lateness or sleeping on company time. Come on; we need to get to this meeting.”

New Guy: “Oh, I see. You’re one of them. You think you know someone. Yet another c**t in the machine.”

Coworker: “Come on, mate. No need to be like that. Let’s get to the meeting.” 

They both walked out. They made it just outside the door before the new guy started shouting and swearing. I just made out him storming off to his car and not returning. I guess he quit because I never saw him again. I don’t think he was a great loss.

Customer: “I’ll have a beer and a large pinot.”

Me: “Red or white, sir?”

Customer: “Pinot. It’s a wine.”

Me: “Yes, sir. But pinot grigio is a white wine and pinot noir is a red one. If you really want to get technical, we also sell pinot blush, a rosé.”

Customer: “My wife only drinks white wine.”

Me: “Pinot grigio it is, then.”

I make his drinks and he pays and walks back to his table. A few seconds later, his wife approaches.

Customer’s Wife: “God. How stupid are you? My husband ordered pinot. P-I-K-N-O-T. Everyone knows pinot is a red wine.”

Me: “Well, actually, miss—”

I never did finish my sentence because she threw the wine over me.

I was driving along the motorway and my phone was connected via Bluetooth so I could be completely hands-free except for the button on the steering wheel to disconnect the call.

I get one of those invest-your-money-with-us-thieves calls as I’ve just joined the motorway. I do the usual who’s-calling-please, no-thank-you-not-interested stuff, after which my usual technique is to block the number on the phone. But as I’m driving, I can’t do that; I don’t know of a voice command to block a number.

A few seconds later, she calls again.

Me: “Nope, still not interested.” *Click*

Again.

Me: “Nope. F*** off.” Click*

Again.

Me: “F*** off.” Click*

Again.

Me: “F*** off and die, c***.” *Click*

And again and again and again.

Eventually, I am amused enough to let her say something before telling her to f*** off. 

Caller: “Do you want to do this all day?”

Me: “Yep. F*** off.”

She still doesn’t get the message.

Eventually, we have done about twenty or thirty rounds of this.

Me: “It’s your time you’re wasting here, not mine; I’m still driving.”

That was when she finally understood that she was not going to get anywhere with me.

At the next service station, I parked and blocked the number in case she decided to play the game again.

When I was about nine years old, I had a massive hay fever flare-up after playing in a meadow all day. In addition to other symptoms, my eyeballs swelled up and went red. I didn’t have any sunglasses at the time, so the next day my mother took me into the nearby village to buy some. I wore a baseball cap pulled down low over my eyes to hide them.

It is regarded as rude by some people for a man or boy to keep his hat on when indoors, and as we walked into the shop, a complete stranger decided that he would teach me a lesson by taking my hat off for me. I reflexively looked up at him with my swollen, red eyes.

I’ve never seen a person leave a place so quickly in my life. Apparently, he didn’t think that there might be some reason why I kept my hat on — until he saw those eyes.