Very Unhelpful Advice

| Drayton Valley, AB, Canada | Working | April 13, 2017

(I’m working in the produce department of a grocery store. The boss has the department organized into three stations. On this day, I’m working station one and the boss is working station two. The boss ducks out for a few minutes, and I see the work starting to pile up on station two. As it’s only my third day and I’m still eager to please, I start working on station two to reduce the backlog. When the boss comes back, I go to return to station one, and he stops me.)

Boss: “No. By all means. Keep going.”

(I keep working on station two, and I start to notice the work piling up on station one.)

Boss: “You’d better get back to station one.”

(I go back to station one, but rather than resume station two, the boss just keeps glaring at me. Once the work on station two gets backed up again, the boss orders me back to station two. I finally get the hint, and I spend the rest of my shift working both stations while the boss just stands around and glares at me. At closing time, as I’m punching out, the boss corners me and stabs his fingers into my chest.)

Boss: “I hope you learned your lesson today. If you think you’re so d*** good that you can run this entire department by yourself, I’ll make you do it. NEVER work another man’s station!”

(I did learn my lesson that day. No matter how backed up any of the other stations got, I never again lifted a finger to help!)

Redhead Responding To Red Alert

| OK, USA | Right | April 11, 2017

(I am in line behind a young man who was obviously inebriated. He is trying to buy alcohol without an ID.)

Cashier: “Sir, I’m sorry, but I can’t sell you this beer without an ID.”

Customer: “F*** you! I am old enough. Do I look like a kid?”

Cashier: “No, sir, but it’s the law and I could lose my job.”

Customer: “It’s in the d*** truck. Do you want me to go all the way to the truck and get it?”

Cashier: “Sir, if you’d like to go get your ID I’d be happy to set the beer to the side for you.”

Customer: “You f****** b****! I don’t have to—”

(He’s interrupted when a slender, red-haired woman comes up behind him, slips her arms under his and pushes forward, hard. He’s bent over and unable to move his arms.)

Redhead Woman: “Now, that’s just about enough. I let the manager know, and my daughter is calling the police.”

(He tries to pull away and she takes her knee and pushes it hard into his back, making him yelp.)

Redhead Woman: “No, I said that’s enough. You’re going to apologize to the cashier here for fouling up her day, and then you’re going to be still until the cops come.”

(The manager comes sprinting over with security in tow, who take control of the angry guy while the cashier explains and the redheaded woman brushes off the front of her dress. Her daughter hands her the phone and the woman talks to the police for a moment and hangs up.)

Manager: “Thank you, ma’am.”

Redhead Woman: “Not at all. I cashiered in college and it flat sucked. People are d***s.”

(The woman says something to her daughter in a foreign language and the kid grins and looks over at the guy. The cashier rings me up, and as I’m getting ready to leave, I walk past where the cops have the guy cuffed and sitting while they talk to the redheaded woman. I pass by the kid and smile at her.)

Me: “Your mom is pretty tough, huh?”

Kid: “My mom is a bad-a**.”

(Totally made my day.)

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Doesn’t Even Have A Pint Of Common Sense

| Collegetown, NY, USA | Right | April 11, 2017

(While working in the dairy department in a grocery store in a town that has two major universities, I have this discussion with a student, after getting out of a class myself in which the professor had just raved for an hour about how our university has some of the best and brightest minds in the country. The student is proudly wearing a sweatshirt displaying the university logo and os absolutely beaming with pride.)

Me: “Hi, how are you doing today?”

Customer: *looking rather confused while staring at the dairy case* “I need help. I’m trying to find something”

Me: “Okay, what can I help you find?”

Customer: “Well, I don’t think you carry them, but I’m looking for smaller gallons of milk.”

Me: “You’re right. We don’t carry smaller gallons of milk. Anything smaller than a gallon is no longer a gallon.”

Customer: *utterly bewildered and confused at my comment* “What? I don’t get it…”

Me: “A gallon is a unit of measurement. If you don’t have a full gallon it isn’t a gallon. It’s a half gallon, or a quart, or a pint.”

Customer: “Look, do you have smaller gallons of milk or not?”

Me: “No, we definitely don’t sell smaller gallons of milk.”

Customer: *walks away irritated mumbling something under his breath*

(The store did, of course, carry half gallons, quarts, and pints of milk.)

Excused Of Excuses

| Madison, WI, USA | Friendly | April 10, 2017

(I am following a woman out of the store. She is pushing her cart of groceries and talking on her cell-phone at the same time.)

Woman: “Yeah, I’m all finished up here, so we can…” *she stops, right in the middle of the door* “Well, where are you? No… I said five.”

(She takes a step to the side, leaving the entire doorway blocked by her and her cart, except for a small opening on the left side. I decide to just slide past, and I end up bumping her cart slightly when I do so. She looks up sharply.)

Woman: “Excuse me?!”

Me: “You’re excused.”

(I didn’t bother to look back, but I did hear the other people that had been behind me pushing past her cart as well. I don’t care how important your phone call is, you can take two seconds to move yourself out of the way of the door.)

A Van Man With A Plan

| WA, USA | Right | April 9, 2017

(On my way back to the break room, I see an older lady looking very befuddled out the front door.)

Me: “Is something the matter, ma’am?”

Older Lady: “Hmm, yes, is that allowed?”

(She points out the door. I see that a large van parked on the ramp that leads up to the front of the store.)

Me: “No, it is not.”

(I walk to the car and see that a man, who must be in his 80s, is on the phone, and has a giant head wound that is bleeding and has been bandaged with duct tape.)

Me: “Sir, I need you to move your car… Er, better yet, maybe you shouldn’t be driving at all.”

Older Man: *ignores me and instead starts speaking louder on the phone* “I need to write down all of this. You want me to get what and what?!”

Me: “Sir, please! You need to get out of the car so we can assist you!”

Older Man: *finally turning to me* “You want me to move?!”

Me: “Yes!”

Older Man: “All right, I’ll park somewhere else!” *goes back to phone conversation*

Me: “Uh, sir…”


(I do not like being yelled at and I know I’m not good at holding my tongue, so I decide it’s best for my boss to talk to him and go on break. Later the man comes up to the check stand with one single drink.)

Older Man: “You lot didn’t have what I needed.”

Me: “Sorry, sir, what were you looking for?”

Older Man: *starts to mutter* “YOU NEED TO HAVE MORE STUFF!”

(He then proceeded to hobble out on a slightly broken cane. I tried to convince my boss otherwise, but he decided that the elder, disoriented, clearly concussed man would be just fine on the road.)

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