Behaving Fairly Fairy

, , , , , , , | Romantic | November 17, 2017

Some friends and I are at a party over Halloween weekend. One of them is dressed as the Good Fairy and carries a wand which is handmade of pretty thick wood, painted, with a star and glitter. She’s also a bit of a goody two-shoes, and every time someone swears she’ll tap them on the head with her wand and say, “The Good Fairy doesn’t like that!”

As the night goes on, people get progressively drunker, and a guy none of us knows has been bugging her for a while. We’re trying to get away from him when he grabs her breasts from behind. She swings around and smacks him in the face with the wand so hard she breaks it in half. “THE GOOD FAIRY DOESN’T LIKE THAT!”

He got kicked out.

We Don’t Sell Dating Simulators

, , , , | Romantic | November 14, 2017

(I work at a video game store. As a female employee, I’m unfortunately used to being hit on by customers while working. I approach a pair of customers on the floor: a young guy around my age and a much older man. When I ask if they need help, the older man is very friendly and strikes up a lengthy conversation with me about games he used to play. It is a pretty pleasant interaction until this moment:)

Customer: “Wow, you really know your stuff! Any chance you’re free this weekend? My son could use a date!”

(I awkwardly tried to laugh it off, while the poor son didn’t even look embarrassed, just tired and disinterested like this happened a lot.)

Seems To Think Fifty No’s Means A Yes

, , , , , , | Romantic | November 9, 2017

(My sister’s a very sweet girl who naturally smiles as she talks, and so she tends to make friends easily, but it also causes the following to occur during her second year of college. My sister enters a classroom and sits down at one of the nearest empty seats to the door.)

Guy: “Hi, I’m [Guy].”

Sister: “Nice to meet you. I’m [Sister]. It’s really nice to meet you.”

(The class then starts and she doesn’t interact with the guy for the rest of the class. When class is over, and my sister starts to get up to leave, the guy grabs her arm.)

Guy: “Hey, are you free now? Let’s go for lunch.”

Sister: *tries to tug her arm away* “Sorry. I have another class to go to, and I’m not really interested. Sorry.”

Guy: *angrily gets in her face, still holding her arm* “Come on! You came and sat down with me, so clearly, you’re interested in me! You can’t lead a guy on like that, you slut!”

Sister: *practically rips her arm out of his grip* “I only sat next to you because it was the closest seat to the door that was free! And I literally only said hi to you and introduced myself, so I didn’t exactly lead you on. Don’t touch me ever again.” *proceeds to run out of the classroom*

(Unfortunately, he continued to have an interest in my sister. He went so far as to follow her to her next class and attempt to enter the classroom after her, and then sat outside her classroom after she convinced her professor to kick him out. When she saw him outside the room, she grabbed the nearest guy’s arm and asked him to pretend they were dating. The only bright sides from this were that he was eventually kicked out of the university for doing this with other female students, and that my sister and the guy she pretended to date became good friends after that incident.)

Ringing Up Some Gender Stereotypes

, , , , | Right | November 7, 2017

(The store where I work has a strict policy about always having someone on the floor to help customers, and that person isn’t allowed to hop on register unless it is extremely busy. I’m female and have been helping a male customer on the floor who has been perhaps a bit overly friendly, but has seemed normal enough up to this point.)

Me: “[Male Coworker] here will ring you up!”

Customer: “Aren’t you going to ring me up?”

Me: “No, [Male Coworker] is on register right now, but I promise he’ll take care of you.”

Customer: “It’s just… A man’s got to have a woman helping him, you know?”

Me: “Uh.”

Customer: “You know, you’ve got to have a man and a woman; you can’t have two guys, right? Tarzan needs his Jane; you can’t have Tarzan and Tarzan, you know?”

(The customer continued this line of bizarre rambling for another minute or so while I smiled blandly for lack of any other idea what to do, occasionally exchanging looks with my manager over the customer’s shoulder like, “WTF?” Fortunately, my coworker eventually finished with the customer he’d been helping and started ringing up this one’s items, giving my manager a moment to shoo me into the back room so I could hide until this guy left.)

What A Diabeetus, Part 2

, , , , , , | Right | November 6, 2017

(A customer is getting her money out of her bag. I had put in a low blood-sugar reading in my insulin pump a couple minutes earlier, and it always beeps to remind me to check it again. It beeps, and I unclip it from my waist and turn the screen on. The customer looks up and her eyes go wide.)

Customer: “Of course!”

Me: “What’s the matter?”

Customer: “This is the reason I hate this store! They hire teenagers that look at their phones all the time! They don’t even care about the customers.”

Me: “What? Oh! This isn’t a phone, ma’am.” *presses “okay” and clips it back to my waist*

Customer: “Yes, it is! Give it to me so I can report you to your manager!”

Me: “One, it’s not a phone. Two, I can’t take it off because it’s an insulin pump. I have type-one diabetes.” *shows her my medical alert bracelet* “My manager knows this.”

Customer: “You don’t have diabetes! You’re not obese!”

Me: *tries to resist the urge to face-palm* “Ma’am, I have type-one. The one you’re thinking about is type-two. Please give me the money and leave.”

Customer: “No!” *reaches for my pump, which has a tube that connects to something on my stomach*

Me: *calmly* “Please leave.”

(The customer once again reaches for my pump, and pulls it off my pants. She pulls it forward and realizes there’s a tube on it.)

Customer: “How do you disconnect the charger?”

Me: “That isn’t a charger wire, ma’am. It’s a tube. You can see it’s clear. Please let go.”

(I reach to take my pump back. The customer pulls it forwards again, and I jerk forward. A lot of the time I drop my pump, and it pulls on my stomach. It’s never torn out the thing on my stomach, but this time it’s about to. Luckily, my manager arrives before it does.)

Manager: “Let go of that right now and leave. It’s good that you hate this store, because you’re not coming back.”

(The customer places the pump on the counter and runs to the door, not taking her money or things.)

Me: “Thanks.”

Manager: “Take her money; you deserve it. I’ll put her stuff back.”

(Suddenly, I heard a beep. My manager was also a diabetic, and also had a low earlier. He pulled out his pump, which looked like mine. I heard a loud scream and the door slamming shut.)

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