It is that time politically when Bernie Sanders is getting a bit of media attention. The TV in our store that usually shows deals and sale items is broken, and I am trying to fix it. My troubleshooting brings me to test a new channel, where Bernie and his political policies are being listed.

As I am doing so, a woman and her young son are passing by.

Customer: “No, you don’t! You don’t put any of that socialist s*** in this store when people are shopping!”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m just trying to fix the TV. I’m not watching the news.”

Customer: “Uh-huh… So, you just happened to turn the TV over to Bernie as I just happened to be walking past, did you?“

Me: “Uh… yes?”

Customer: “Does your manager know that you’re doing political canvassing in the store when you should be working?”

Me: “Ma’am, again, I’m not. I’m just trying to fix this TV.”

This woman has raised her voice enough that another customer, an older woman, comes over to ask what’s going on. (I think she was worried about me.) The customer assumes this woman is a manager and explains — and embellishes.

Customer: “…so, does your store make a point to hire socialists?”

Woman: *Leaning into the role* “Well, considering this a store selling items for a profit, that would make it capitalist, wouldn’t it?”

Customer: *Looking at me again* “There should be laws against people like you. When we win, we’ll undo all those laws you people made.”

Woman: “Oh, like child labor laws? I know, so anti-capitalist. When can your son start working here? He’d fit right in at the warehouse at the back…”

Customer: “He’s ten!“

Woman: “Old enough to work, and yet you’re keeping him in school?! How socialist!”

Customer: “That’s… not… I’m going to complain to corporate about you!”

She storms off, and the woman asks me if I am okay.

Me: “Oh, that’s nothing new when working in retail during election season. I would advise you not to pretend to be a manager, though; it might cause an issue later on.”

Woman: “I know, hun, but I never once said I was a manager.”

Me: “You know what? You didn’t! Have a nice day!”

Woman: “You, too!”

Related:
Needs To Work On His Socialist Skills, Part 7
Needs To Work On His Socialist Skills, Part 6
Needs To Work On His Socialist Skills, Part 5
Needs To Work On His Socialist Skills, Part 4
Needs To Work On His Socialist Skills, Part 3

This is about my own wedding and how an entitled mom nearly turned it into her personal circus.

My fiancé (now husband) and I planned our wedding for over a year. We wanted something small yet elegant, with close family and friends. My husband’s family is pretty down-to-earth — except for his aunt, who is known for her over-the-top behavior and entitlement.

Everything was going smoothly until the week before the wedding. [Aunt] called and demanded that we include her six-year-old daughter (my husband’s cousin) as a flower girl. We already had two flower girls, my nieces, who were thrilled about it. I politely declined, explaining that arrangements had already been made.

[Aunt] didn’t take this well. She started a tirade about how her daughter was being excluded unfairly and how we were ruining her child’s self-esteem. I tried to stay calm, but she was relentless.

I thought that was the end of it, but oh, was I wrong.

On our wedding day, [Aunt] showed up with her daughter dressed in a full-blown white, frilly flower girl dress. She marched up to me, demanding that her daughter be included in the ceremony.

I was flabbergasted. My husband and I, along with our wedding planner, tried to reason with her, but she caused a huge scene, saying things like, “How could you be so selfish on your wedding day?” and, “You’re destroying a little girl’s dream!”

My usually quiet mother-in-law had had enough. She stepped in and told [Aunt] in no uncertain terms that this was our day, not hers or her daughter’s. She said that if [Aunt] couldn’t respect our wishes, they would have to leave.

[Aunt] was shocked. She tried to argue, but other family members, who were equally fed up with her antics, supported my mother-in-law’s stance. Realizing she was outnumbered, [Aunt] left in a huff, her daughter in tow.

The rest of the wedding went off without a hitch, and everyone had a great time.

We heard through the grapevine that [Aunt] complained about us to anyone who would listen, but most of the family knew her history and took it with a grain of salt.

I’m grateful for my amazing in-laws who stood up for us, boosting my confidence in our marriage’s success even more.

I was a cashier at a fast food restaurant on weekends when I was in my teens. It wasn’t much money, but I wanted to work, and they were the only place that would hire me.

Between a Saturday and a Sunday, several of our prices went up — ten cents here, fifty cents there. Nobody told me about it, but I found out quite quickly. My very first customer of the day was a man in his forties.

Me: “Hi, how—”

Customer: “[Burger meal], large chocolate shake.”

Me: “Okay. A [burger meal] and a large chocolate shake comes to [new total].”

Customer: “What? No, it’s [old total].”

Me: “Um… a [Burger meal] and a large chocolate shake, right?”

Customer: “Yeah. How is it more today than it was last week?”

Me: “I… uh… I just put it in, and—”

Customer: *Louder* “Are you trying to rip me off? Do you think I’m f****** stupid?”

Manager: “[My Name]! What is going on?” *Gently* “How can I help you, sir?”

Customer: “This girl is trying to steal from you and me! She said my meal is [new total], but it should be [old total].”

Manager: “I see. I apologize, sir; corporate did raise some of our prices last night. Let me fix that for you. I will give you yesterday’s price, but going forward it will be the new price. Would you like a free apple pie for your inconvenience?”

Customer: “Yes. And train this one to learn to read, too.”

Me: “I was—”

Manager: “Of course, sir. Your meal will be out in a minute. [My Name], come with me.”

I followed him to fill the fries and shake. I was pretty upset by the whole ordeal.

Manager: “We raised some prices. If anyone causes a scene, just call for me and I’ll tell them it was corporate, and I’ll honor the old price for today only.”

Me: “Okay… Why wasn’t I told there were new prices?”

Manager: “We don’t have time to hold your hand. Go take this to the customer and apologize for the confusion.”

I went back to my register and put everything on the tray.

Me: “Here is your order, sir. Have a nice day.”

Customer: *Yelling* “You f***ed up my order! You stupid b****! I—”

A regular elderly gentleman who only ever ordered a senior coffee came up and cracked his cane on the register counter. Everyone around us stopped.

Regular: “If my child ever talked to a young lady like that, I’d have whooped him good and sent him to bed without supper.”

Customer: *Flustered* “I was—”

Regular: “I saw. The whole store saw. On your way, son.”

The man took his tray and sat down. My manager rushed over and grabbed me by the arm.

Manager: “What was that?!”

Regular: “I have daughters, and I’ll be d***ed to Hell before I let anyone treat them like he treated her. Only makes sense to watch the other daughters, too.”

He gave my manager a hard look, and I was released.

Manager: “Oh.” *Pause* “You only get a coffee, right?”

Regular: “I do. It’s gone up, I understand.”

Manager: “[My Name], get the man his coffee. On the house.”

I do not miss those customers, that job, or the managers, but I do miss that old man.

I work in the city and usually take the bus home. As anyone who commutes knows, these buses can get packed, especially during rush hour. On this particular day, I managed to snag a seat, which felt like winning the lottery after a long day at work. I had my earbuds in and was half-asleep, lost in my music.

A few stops into my ride, a woman and her son, who looked to be about ten years old, got on the bus. It was clear from the get-go that there were no seats available, but that didn’t stop [Woman] from scanning the bus like she was on a mission. She locked eyes with me and bee-lined in my direction.

She spoke to me in a tone that was more demanding than polite.

Woman: “Excuse me, could you let my son sit down? He’s really tired from his day and needs to sit.”

I was surprised that she singled me out since there were other people, some elderly, standing, as well. I was about to respond, maybe even stand up, despite feeling exhausted myself, when another woman standing nearby spoke up.

Helpful Woman: *In a kind but firm tone* “Ma’am, it’s not right to single out someone for their seat. We’re all tired after a long day. Perhaps your son can manage standing for a bit.”

[Woman]’s face turned a shade of red.

Woman: “But he’s just a child, and children need to sit. It’s common courtesy!”

The bus was unusually silent, with everyone seemingly tuned into our conversation. [Helpful Woman], undeterred, replied:

Helpful Woman: “I understand, but so do the elderly, the disabled, and those who’ve had long days at work. We can’t always expect others to give up their comfort for us. It’s a valuable lesson in consideration and patience.”

[Woman] looked ready to argue more but seemed to realize that the bus audience wasn’t on her side. She muttered something under her breath about “rude people” and moved slightly away, still standing.

The rest of the ride was uneventful, but the atmosphere felt a bit charged.

When my stop arrived, I got up, and as I passed [Helpful Woman], she gave me a small smile and a nod as if to say, “You did the right thing.” I nodded back in gratitude, feeling relieved but also a bit surprised at how the situation unfolded.

My long-term boyfriend proposed to me and, of course, I was over the moon. It was all super romantic and sticky.

Work: “Well, we don’t think you can get a day off.”

Me: “Why? I’m asking six months in advance, and I need a day off. It’s for a wedding, and it’s mine.”

Work: “If you wanted days not previously specified, you must ask a year in advance. Why didn’t you?”

Me: “I didn’t know I was getting married!”

Work: “Why not?”

Me: “My fiance asked me in December, and I told you the day we were back from holidays. I don’t suppose he expected you to be this unreasonable?”

The wedding date was in August.

Work: “Well, next time you ‘want to get married’, tell the guy to tell us a year before.”

Me: “I quit.”

Three hours later, my manager came in and yelled so that everyone could hear: 

Manager: “Oh, no, girl, you don’t! Have what time you need! YOU STUPID FOOLS, IT’S HER WEDDING!”

I loved that manager. I took two weeks to meet the extended family, and it was no trouble.

Over fifteen years later, we’re married, sharing a mortgage, and raising a kid, who’s turning out very nice. This marriage is literally the best idea ever — literally, not figuratively.