Unfiltered Story #117799

, , | Unfiltered | August 1, 2018

I had a couple argue with me for a good ten minutes today at work because the yellow highlighters were not yellow enough… Then after I got them to let go of the fact that most highlighters nowadays are no longer “yellow”, but “florescent yellow”, they then argued that two different yellow highlighters, of the same brand, would be two wildly different colors because the plastic pen bodies were slightly different shades of “yellow”. Even after guaranteeing and swearing on my mother’s life that they were exactly the same, I actually had to open both packs and show them that they were in fact, surprise surprise, the same color. This was all after they had started our interaction in a way, that outside of work, would have gotten anyone punched in the face and given a lesson on not being a bigoted asshat. They engaged me in the mini hell tornado by asking me where the “non-queer” highlighters were and when I asked for clarification, thinking I must have heard them wrong, they told me that they wanted just old fashioned yellow and not all those “fruity” colors. I almost told them to go the hell back to whatever Bible Belt state they came from and that they could buy there highlighters at the darn Staples there, but I managed to be painfully pleasant and walk them through the most painful $30 sale of my life. Next time someone asks about highlighters I’m faking my own death right there on the sales floor.

Unfiltered Story #108612

, , | Unfiltered | April 7, 2018

Parking troubles.
My husband has worked for his employer for 20+ years and is currently in charge of ‘shipping & receiving’. I stop to visit, parking in the usual visitor area. A large freight truck has arrived and appears to be having difficulties maneuvering within the allotted space. The driver flies out of the cab, arms flying and begins to yell at me for parking where I did; calling me names and ordering me to move. Rather than possibly have the family car hit by such an inadequately trained truck driver, I move the car. As I approach my husband within the warehouse the truck driver is loudly complaining about some b**** in the parking lot who was in his way. I simply smile, kiss my husband in front of the truck driver and apologize for being late, telling my husband that apparently my usual parking spot is inconvenient for beginning truck drivers. That driver was never allowed on company property again.

Paying It Forward: One Loaf At A Time

, , , , | Hopeless | August 7, 2017

My brother and I are at the grocery store after class, both wearing backpacks and obviously students.

We are looking at bread, and discussing the sale it has, and whether or not we should spend more money to get more bread. Suddenly, a guy in his mid-forties walks up to us and says, “Can I tell you a story?” Being polite, we listen. He tells us a story of how he met a girl in college, and that me and my brother reminded him of a young him and this girl. He hands us $100, and then says, “I’d like to pay for your groceries today, and someday when you’re in your forties, pay it forward and pay for someone else’s groceries.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I was with my brother and not my boyfriend! Regardless, guy at a local grocery store in Eugene, my family and I really appreciate your random act of kindness. Of course you know nothing about our life, but know that at that time, getting free groceries was a massive help. Thank you.

Unfiltered Story #90058

, , | Unfiltered | June 23, 2017

(Woman walks up to counter)

Me: “Hello, how is your day going?”

(Woman puts a brand new cup from our store on the counter)

Woman: “I want my free refill!”

Me: “you can only get a free refill within two hours of your original purchase, and its $.50 for non [Company Name] card members”

(The woman point to a regular I just rang up that I knows has no association with her)

Woman: “He has my money, give me my coffee. (Points at my coworker not named Heather) Don’t let that Heather b**** get it.”

Me: “You need to pay for your own coffee ma’am, when did you purchase this cup?”

(She starts muttering, I go to get the supervisor and notice the lid and barcode slip in our tip jar. While I’m away she lundges over the counter and grabs the stolen cup. Police were called and we got the cup back later that day)