Unfiltered Story #218483

, , , | Unfiltered | December 13, 2020

I went to college out-of-state and had a few conversations with friends who couldn’t believe I was from Louisiana. I grew up in Lafayette Parish and have the accent, which is not very twangy and doesn’t sound as “Southern” as what my friends expect to hear. Living away from home doesn’t seem to affect my accent, not to my ears. After graduation when I move back home, no one in Lafayette seems to notice any difference, either…until this happens.

I’m leaving the break room when two customers approach me. One of them asks me a question about some merchandise, and I answer. She gets a very suspicious look on her face as we talk.

Customer #1: Where are you from?

Me: I’m from Lafayette.

Customer #1: *Crosses her arms and smirks* Well, we’ll just see about that.

I am taken aback by this, and so is her friend, who looks at her sideways. I have no idea how Customer #1 expects to “see” where I’m from, but as the moment stretches on, I start to feel very uneasy.

Me: Ma’am, if you wait until my shit is over and follow me home, I will call the cops and have you arrested for stalking.

Customer #1 looks confused now, which is a relief; I was worried for a moment that she really was planning on following me home. Customer #2 starts to laugh quietly.

Me: Is there something else here in the *store* that I can help you with?

Customer #2: No, thank you.

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Unfiltered Story #213135

, , , | Unfiltered | October 28, 2020

I tend to fidget, especially when my hands don’t have anything to do. I’m also overweight and trying to lose weight, but I don’t like talking about it. I’ve finished ringing up a customer, and now I’m just waiting for her check to clear.

Customer: When are you due?

Me: Hmm?

She points at my stomach. I wince.

Me: Oh. I’m not pregnant. I’m just fat.

Looking down, I realize I’ve tucked one of my hands into the waistband of my work apron, right on top of my stomach. I hastily move my hand so that my arm is hanging at my side. We were both embarrassed. The rest of the transaction was very awkward.

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Unfiltered Story #212897

, , , | Unfiltered | October 24, 2020

I walk into the living room as a movie is playing. My dad pauses the movie on an close-up of a person writing a letter. The person’s head is outside of frame. My dad fills me in on the scene, saying that [male character] and [female character] are both there.

Me: Where’s [female character]? I didn’t see her just now.

Dad: That’s her.

He points at the person on the screen.

Me: It is?

Dad: Yeah, can’t you tell? Those are female hands. And can’t you see that bulge in her shirt?

The character in the movie is wearing a lose flannel shirt. It’s impossible to get a sense of the character’s body shape.

Me: Nope. I don’t see anything.

Dad: It’s her.

He presses play, and the camera pans up–to show [male character].

My dad and I burst out laughing.

Me: That was comedy gold!

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Unfiltered Story #204327

, , , | Unfiltered | August 7, 2020

Customer: “How much is a box?”
Me: “A box of candy, or a box by itself?”
Customer: “…huh?”
Me: “The box is a set price, and the candy is priced by weight. A box of candy costs more than an empty box.”
Customer: “…um…”
Me: “Do you want JUST the box, or the box AND candy?”
Customer: “I want the box.”
Me: “Okay, that’s [price].”

He pays and wanders away from the register. We have a crowd at that point so I don’t have time to really think about him until a few minutes later when I see him filling the box with candy.

Me: “You have to pay for that!”

He did pay, but was just as confused about it as he was about buying the box.

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Sweet, But Fickle

, , , , , | Friendly | July 27, 2020

Two of my mall “friends” are a pair of sisters, a seven-year-old and a three-year-old whose parents run a food stand right outside my store. I have gotten my hair cut very short and bleached it, and they’re both quite shocked. Once they get over it, we’re chatting as usual. 

Three-Year-Old: “Can I have a candy?”

Me: “Did you ask your mom?”

Three-Year-Old: “No.”

Me: “Then you can’t have any candy.”

Three-Year-Old: “Why?”

Me: “Because I’m not giving you candy unless your mom says yes.”

Three-Year-Old: “But why?”

Me: “Because I said so.”

Three-Year-Old: *Narrowing her eyes* “I don’t like your hair.”

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