A mother is checking out with her little girl, maybe four years old or so. The little girl is as cute as a button and keeps smiling up at me.
Me: “Hello! How are you doing today?!”
Little Girl: “I have a clitoris!”
Me: *To the mother, not skipping a beat* “Cash or card?”
Disclaimer: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.
Back during the panic-buying phase of the global health crisis, the flapper in my toilet broke, and I had to make a run to the hardware store.
While there, it occurred to me to check the filter masks aisle. At the time, the focus for masks was on self-protection, not protecting others from you, so valved respirators looked like a great idea.
All the dust masks — useless for blocking [contagious illness] transmission either way — were sold out. My guess is that people saw them as a bargain. All the N95 masks were sold out. But there was a full rack of N100 disposable masks untouched, and they had five entire cases — twenty-five masks per case — of reusable P100 respirator masks.
People were actually avoiding the masks that were better than N95 because they never bothered to learn what the alphanumeric code meant; they just panic-bought N95s.
I actually helped this grandfather-type pick out enough P100 masks for his entire family. He had no idea P100 was better than N95, and we both took a moment to boggle at the five cases of P100s left untouched.
The local drugstore had similar craziness; all concentrations of ethyl and isopropyl alcohol were gone, but the shaving section had cleaning cartridges for electric shavers, and those cartridges were between 85% and 90% alcohol.
Likewise, the store’s stock of povidone-iodine was completely untouched; povidone-iodine is thirty times more effective at killing [illness] than 80% ethyl alcohol is.
The whole thing was utter madness.
I’m a self-checkout attendant in a grocery store and frequently wear a cloth face mask, a rarity in that particular store. I go to approve an alcohol sale for a customer.
Me: “Could I see your ID for the vodka, please?”
Customer: “What is this, a federal indictment?”
Me: “Nope, just [Store] policy; we have to card everyone now.”
Customer: “Could’ve fooled me. With the mask, you could’ve been government.”
Me: “Oh, I just wear this because I have a condition that makes it the best option.”
Customer: “Uh-huh. Sure.”
This is when I lose my temper a little bit; I’m sick of meeting morons who think that wearing a piece of cloth is akin to selling one’s soul.
Me: “It ensures that I don’t have to clean up blood every day. Have you ever noticed how dry the air is in here? My sinuses are ridiculously sensitive, and if I leave this mask off for even an hour, my nose will start to bleed. I like not cleaning blood off of people’s groceries or making my coworkers do it. Have a good day.”
I walked off, leaving him looking both stunned and thoughtful. He mumbled a “thank you” before he left, but I’m not sure for what. I hope I made him rethink a few negative opinions toward masks.
Related:
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 31
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 30
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 29
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 28
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 27
As I was walking through the entrance of the electronic goods store where I worked, a guy ran out with a box in his hand, smashing me to the ground before running off as fast as his legs could take him.
I fell hard, injuring myself, and had to go to hospital. When I came back to work, I was called into the manager’s office to find a Human Resources representative, my manager, and the district manager waiting for me.
District Manager: “Well, [My Name], I’m guessing you know why we called you in today?”
Me: “Is it because I got hurt at work?”
District Manager: “Yes. As you know, we have a strict policy that employees should not put themselves in danger by, among other things, trying to stop a shoplifter from leaving our premises. You needlessly put yourself at risk in breach of that policy.”
Me: “I literally walked through the door and got clocked by a guy leaving at speed. I didn’t try to stop him at all.”
HR Representative: “No, that’s not what happened. You tried to stop him and got hurt because you couldn’t follow our safety protocols. I am afraid that we have no choice but to let you go.”
Me: *Crying* “Are you kidding? I need this job. I got hurt at work. I have a family…”
HR Representative: “Stop it with the crocodile tears. You broke the rules and you know it.”
District Manager: “The policy is clearly stated in our employee handbook, and you ignored it. This is on you.”
My Manager: “What made you think you could even stop a guy twice your size? If we allowed you to stay after that, we’d be responsible any time an employee decided to just have a go.”
District Manager: “Here’s your final severance payment. We just need you to sign these forms and you can leave.”
He shoved a bunch of forms at me, one of which was an admission that I had broken corporate policy and tried to stop the shoplifter.
To cut a very long story short, I refused to sign it, they threatened to withhold my final paycheck if I didn’t, I said I would get a lawyer, they said the incident was my fault, and I finally walked out crying.
I couldn’t afford a lawyer, even after they finally agreed to mail me my final paycheck, and they refused to submit my medical expenses through the corporate insurance scheme because I had “broken policy”.
Three years later, I am still paying off the debt I had to take on to get through that period and cover my healthcare. I still have no health insurance because I can barely afford rent. Living the American dream.
CONTENT WARNING: Alcohol Abuse
I used to work at a smallish local shop in a small town. We had a lot of regulars. One we all knew had a problem with alcohol, but we never said anything; he wasn’t causing a problem and just bought a lot of wine.
One day, he came in and walked up to the counter with two bottles. He was clearly drunk and could barely stand in one spot without staggering. Naturally, at that point, we refused to serve him. When we saw him leave the shop and head to a car’s driver seat, alarm bells started ringing.
A supervisor and I headed out to intervene just as he was getting into the driver’s seat. The bumper of his car was already dented, as if he’d had a collision driving to our shop. He was, at that point, trying to start his car with a vape pen. Between us, we convinced him not to drive.
He shook my supervisor’s hand and thanked him for his care, and he explained that his wife had just left him and taken their kid. We expressed our sympathy and told him not to drive, our car park had CCTV, and we’d watch his car. He left and phoned someone to come pick him up.
He went off.
Not long after that, the police showed up asking questions about him. Someone must have called them after seeing him drive in. Anyway, we gave them the relevant information, and the car sat there for at least a week before it was moved. The police never came back.
Sometime later, we were looking at the CCTV and saw the same man collapsed drunk by our cash machine/ATM.
The company boss decided not to serve him alcohol anymore when he came in. I was the one who had to refuse him his next two bottles of wine. He took it well. He has come in since his alcohol ban for food and dog food.
I have since left the company, and I’ve seen him a few times in the local supermarket. He looked well, — and most importantly, he looked happy.
I have now moved away, and I hope he’s doing all right.
