Bullied His Way Out Of The Neighborhood

, , , , , , , | Legal | February 1, 2020

(Back in the 90s, when I am a little kid, my dad’s house is at the end of a cul-de-sac. This means that most kids end up playing near my dad’s house to avoid traffic. My dad has no problem with this, and he even nicely set up a walking path through some nearby woods behind our house so the kids can safely explore nature. There is one boy, however, who is a complete neighborhood terrorist. He uproots the stepping stones from the nature path, and he steals from other kids. My dad, one of the most patient men in the world, ends up hating this boy because of it all. One day, I am riding my bike in loops down the street and back. The bully is playing with my basketball and my full-size basketball hoop right next to the house. I want to avoid him but I can’t, since he’s standing in my dad’s driveway to play. He sees me coming and tries to throw the basketball at me but fails to make me fall off my bike. In a rage, he runs over and shoves me off the bike and takes off with it. I grab the basketball and, despite my complete lack of sports prowess, manage to throw it right into the front wheel of the bike, which causes the bully to topple over the bars and smack his face on the road. My dad, who saw the whole thing from the backyard, catches up and grabs my bike and basketball.)

Dad: *to the bully, sternly* “Did you learn anything?”

(He had been sitting there dazed, but as soon as he gets an adult’s attention he starts sobbing dramatically without tears.)

Bully: “SHE HURT ME!”

Dad: “She wouldn’t have hurt you if you hadn’t hurt her first and tried to steal the bike. So, did you learn anything?”

(The bully keeps intentionally scream-sobbing for attention, even occasionally stopping to glance around to see if anyone else is coming.)

Dad: *sigh of frustration* “Shut up and go home. Now. You got what you asked for.”

(The bully sprints home. My dad does some yard work and I relax in our swing-bench. A short time later, the bully’s mom, reeking of alcohol and cigarettes, stomps down the street in a thigh-length leopard-print silk bathrobe.) 

Bully’s Mom: *snaps fingers at my dad* “HEY! You need to deal with your f****** b****!”

Dad: *sets down the tools and turns to face her* “What did you call my daughter?”

Bully’s Mom: “I called her a f****** b****. The little whore hurt my kid and I want money to take him to see a doctor.”

Dad: *shrugs* “Only on one condition.”

Bully’s Mom: “And what is it?”

Dad: “You and your son have to replace everything he’s stolen or broken from the other kids around here. I know this includes one electric toy car, two model planes, several sports balls, a baseball bat, some action figures, and a telescope. Additionally, I want payment for the hours I’ve spent fixing the walking path after he’s torn it up. If I can get that, then we can talk about seeing a doctor for the singular scrape I saw on his chin.”

Bully’s Mom: *enraged* “HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE MY SON–”

Dad: *calmly* “It’s not an accusation until I take the security camera footage to the cops. I have, on video, everything that happens on the walking path and in front of my house. I can do that if you’d like.”

(The mom raises her hand like she’s thinking of hitting him, but she stops herself and storms off. To no one’s great surprise, a police car comes and parks outside our house. The officer knocks on our door.) 

Dad: *while opening the door* “Hi, officer. I’d like to see about getting help returning some stolen items currently in the possession of the [Bully]’s household.”

Officer: “We can talk about that, but first I know your daughter hurt a boy today–”

(I am about half of the bully’s height and maybe a quarter of his weight.) 

Officer: *looking at me* “–but there must be some mistake about that. Moving on, then.”

(My dad gave a copy of the security footage of the thefts and destruction of property to the officer. The next day, several cops were at the bully’s house; they took the bully and his mom to the station. I never had to deal with the bully again, because he ended up being sent to live with his aunt in another city. It was discovered that the bully was stealing higher value toys and collectibles at his mother’s demand to fund her drug addiction. I was mad at the time that he never got punished, but today I just hope that the better environment made him learn how to be a good person. I’ve never managed to dunk the basketball or hit any other target intentionally before or after this singular stroke of karma.)

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Your Table-Number Scamming Days Are Numbered

, , , , , , | Legal | January 30, 2020

(I work in a pub which has both bar and restaurant sections. One day, I am working behind the bar when a couple comes up to pay for their meal. While we offer table service, this is not unusual, as sometimes people want to continue drinking in the bar. All restaurant tables are clearly numbered.)

Man: “Hi, can I pay my bill, please? We were on table two.”

Me: “Sounds good! I’ll just print it off for you. Table two? You had two [inexpensive dishes] and a bottle of the house red. Can you check the receipt to make sure everything’s on there?”

Man: *taking the receipt and reading it* “Everything’s on there.”

(The woman with him suddenly gets the giggles. This is strange, but I think nothing of it, as we’re a bar.)

Me: “I’ll get the card machine.”

(When I go to get the card machine, I notice that the paper needs to be changed. I walk over to the hostess stand where we keep the thermal paper, only to see that table two is still eating their meal. Table three, however, is empty. I call my manager over and we both go to the bar to approach the couple.)

Me: “Could I just have the name that was on your reservation, to confirm your table?”

(The man goes red and gets a deer in headlights look. The woman finally stops giggling.)

Man: *mumbling* “It’s [Man].”

Me: “That’s what I thought. I’ve just checked and you guys were actually on table three. I’ve printed out your revised bill. You had [expensive starters] and two [expensive specials], desserts, and a cheese board, as well as three rounds of drinks. Your total comes to [a hundred pounds more].”

(I hand over the card machine and the man, looking a bit awkward, pays his bill. Just as they turn to leave, my manager speaks.)

Manager: “I don’t know if you’re scammers or just idiots that can’t remember what you just ate, but you aren’t welcome back here.”

(I got a dessert on the house for catching them!)

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This Is How You Stop Him

, , , , , | Right | January 30, 2020

(I’m riding the bus home from work. A family with a small boy gets on and sits near the back. The boy proceeds to pull the cord between every stop, annoying both the passengers and the driver.)

Driver: “If you aren’t getting off at that stop, please do not pull the cord!”

(He pulls the cord again for the next stop. When the driver stops and nobody gets off, she speaks again.)

Driver:Please don’t pull the cord unless it’s for your stop!”

(This repeats for the next couple stops. Finally, she picks up on who’s doing it.)

Driver: “Ma’am, sir, if he pulls the cord again, it’s going to be your stop.”

(Suddenly, the cord stopped being pulled.)

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Well, What Else Did You Expect From Pirates?

, , , , , , | Friendly | January 29, 2020

(I’m playing an online pirate game with three friends; only four people can fit in a crew. One of my friends finds a girl on an empty ship and is about to leave the game for the night. This is good news. Room for all of us and a fully-stocked ship? H*** yeah! She invites three of my crew to her ship but refuses to invite the fourth, me. I am also a girl.)

Me: “Send me an invite? I can’t join until you invite me.”

Girl: “My friend is actually going to play.”

Me: “Uh…”

Crewmate: “She’s part of our crew. Can’t your friend play with someone else?”

Girl: “No, I want my friend to play on this ship.”

Crewmate: “Why does it matter? We’ll be strangers to her anyway. It would be no different than any other crew she will join. Let our crewmate join, please.”

Girl: “No. I’m the captain and what I say goes.”

(While the game has natural leaders that shine through during the game, nobody has more authority than another. Everyone is on an equal level.) 

Crewmate: “Wow. That’s pretty rude.”

Girl: “I don’t care. This is my ship and I get to decide who plays.”

(At this point, we all could leave and find our own ship, but we don’t feel like being friendly anymore.)

Crewmates: “MUTINY! B****! LOCK HER IN THE BRIG!”

Girl: “Don’t you dare! I invited you to this ship. It’s mine!”

Crewmate: “It’s three against one; this is our ship now.”

(They lock her in the brig.)

Girl: “You motherf*****s! I’m going to make sure I’m on as long as possible so your fourth can’t get on!”

(She presumably put a rubber band on her controller as her character spun in circles for ten minutes and then got kicked from the game for inactivity. Never saw her again.)

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When They Go Low, You Go Lower

, , , , , , | Right | January 28, 2020

(It is around Christmas when Michelle Obama’s book, “Becoming,” has come out. When a book is released in hardcover, it’ll usually be a year or two — depending on how popular the book is — before it’s released in paperback. It’ll usually come out in paperback when it’s printed in large print. I know for a fact that we don’t have any large-print copies because my manager hadn’t ordered them.)

Female Customer: “Um, excuse me! Do you have Michelle Obama’s new book in paperback?”

Me: “No, ma’am, I’m afraid it’s only available in hardcover.”

Customer: “What is with you bookstores and only having it in hardcover?! Ain’t nobody can afford that!” *walks off in a huff*

(Five minutes later, she appears with five books in her hand.)

Customer: “Uh, b****! I found this in paperback!” *answers her phone that is ringing* “Girl, I found this book in paperback. This dumb, fat b**** told me they didn’t! So, uh!” *snaps her fingers in victory in my face as I’m ringing her up*

Me: *tells her the total and the rest of the transaction goes normally, and then she leaves*

Coworker: “Did you tell her that those paperbacks are in Spanish?”

Me: “No.”

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