Having A Very, VERY Merry Christmas

, , , , | Related | December 17, 2018

(My mother had a surgery, and I’m taking her home from the hospital. She can walk, but is still kind of loopy because of the painkillers.)

Me: “All right, we’re home. Do you need help getting out of the car?”

Mom: “Baby… my little ladybug…”

Me: “Aye?”

Mom: “Turn on the Christmas lights, please.”

Me: “Right now? It’s noon.”

Mom: “I want to watch!”

Me: “Okay.”

(She then stayed inside the car with the windows down for half an hour, staring at the outdoor Christmas lights. At least she had a good time.)

Black Friday Ends Up Still In The Red By Way Of Customers’ Blood

, , , , , | Legal | December 15, 2018

I’m in the stockroom just before close on the day after Black Friday, prepping restock with my overnight staff. Suddenly, the doors slam open and a customer’s shopping cart appears, pushed by a younger teenage boy. Another two teen boys are standing in the cart. One is banging two pot lids together like cymbals; the other has a funnel to his mouth making noises like a trumpet. They circle a pole and head back to the sales floor. I immediately call the manager, who has already seen them and called in mall security.

I head out to the sales floor to meet the manager. As I approach him, we see the three boys rounding a corner, two still standing in the cart playing their “instruments.” They see us, laugh, and the boy pushing the cart starts to run. They smash through the door to the back room again, and a second later we hear a huge crash. The shopping cart has hit an empty pallet the boys didn’t see lying on the floor, and the two standing boys have been thrown out of the cart and into our corner belt, which slams into a nearby employee. Both boys are injured, one actually breaking his wrist, the other splitting open his forehead and breaking a tooth, bleeding everywhere.

Security arrives a few moments later and calls for an ambulance, and tries to ask the boys where their parents are. The boy who was pushing the cart says they were with his mother, but he has no idea where she is. He does know her cell phone number, though. She is called; she is all the way across the mall, and says she will come over once she is done shopping!

We see her coming, and she looks rather calm and smug until she goes outside. Her son is in the back of a police car along with the boy with the chipped tooth. The boy with the broken wrist is in the back of an ambulance about to pull away. The mother freaks out, crying and screaming, demanding that the kid in the ambulance not be taken to the hospital! The cops then reveal that they found shoplifted items in the pockets of two of the boys, including her son, taken from a different store, so they are going to be taken in.

The whole time her son is blubbering, “We just made a parade! It was a parade!”

There are threats of a lawsuit, but the videos basically make them drop the case entirely. We have to call someone in specially to clean up the blood, and the whole thing sets our restock back by a few hours.

Self-Inflicted Medical Leave

, , , , , | Working | December 14, 2018

(The store I work for has just started going through liquidation after the entire business has announced their closure. The company in charge of the liquidation has decided to hire some temps to help us move stock out to the floor and other odd jobs around the store. One of the temps seems a little shady, and my coworkers say he smells of alcohol. One day, while I’m on break, I can hear the one of the supervisors ask for one of the temps through my radio. No one has seen him, and I don’t think much of it. A little over an hour after my break has ended, the supervisor comes up to me.)

Supervisor: “Has [Temp #1] left the restroom yet?”

Me: “No. Is that where he’s been?”

Supervisor: “Someone saw him go in there two hours ago, and he hasn’t come out yet.”

Me: “I’ll keep an eye out.”

(No one ever sees the temp leave the restrooms. I even go in and call his name but get no response. I get pulled away by a customer so I can’t pay attention to him coming out. About ten minutes later, I hear this over my radio.)

Coworker: “Hey, [Manager], can you come to the restrooms real quick?”

Manager: “I’m with a customer right now; I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Coworker: “It’s an emergency. You need to get here now.”

(It turns out the temp was in one of the stalls the whole two hours we couldn’t find him. My coworker forced open the door and found the temp unresponsive. The manager called an ambulance to come get him. The next day I asked one of the other temps if they knew what happened to him.)

Me: “Hey, [Temp #2], do you know what happened to [Temp #1] yesterday?”

Temp #2: “The hospital said he was dehydrated.”

Me: “Really? That doesn’t sound right.”

(We talked a bit with him, implying that [Temp #1] had too much to drink on his break. [Temp #1] showed up the next day but was sent home. Management told him he needed a doctor’s note if he wanted to continue working with us, which we all knew he wasn’t going to get. The odd part was when we couldn’t find him, some of us were saying that he probably passed out on drugs in the bathroom. We didn’t know we were sort of correct.)

This Lady Is Giving You All The Finger

, , , , , | Right | December 14, 2018

I work in a grocery store. A woman in her fifties got her finger stuck in one of those sanitary wipe containers used to clean the shopping cart handles. She refused to just pull it out because she “didn’t want to cut her finger.” The edges are a bit pointy, seeing that they’re plastic.

We weren’t allowed to cut around her finger, due to liability issues; if we cut her, it would be on us. So, we had to call 911.

Two fire engines, the fire chief, an ambulance, and a cop showed up, all for one lady with a stuck finger.

One fireman made the hole a little bigger and pulled the woman’s finger out. Her finger still got cut.

Armed And Dangerous To Yourself

, , , | Right | December 13, 2018

(I’m working the register when a young woman comes up with a starter bow, a handful of basic target arrows, an archery glove, and a hip quiver.)

Me: *while swiping her purchases* “Learning how to shoot?”

Customer: “Yeah, I did some archery when I was younger and I thought I’d try to get back into it.”

Me: “You might want an armguard, then, just in case. If a bowstring hits your arm by accident, it can really hurt.”

Customer: “Oh, I thought about that, but I never had a problem when I was a kid. And anyway, the only arm guards you guys have are camo–” *wrinkles her nose* “–and it just seems silly to wear that for target shooting.”

(She pays and leaves. The next day, the same customer comes up to my register. She places an armguard on the conveyor belt. As she does so, I can see a number of angry purple and red streaks around the crook of her arm.)

Customer: *cheerfully* “Yeah, so, I’m an idiot!”

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