I work in a fast food restaurant that is inside a convenience store. One day, the store manager had five cartons of “soft pack” cigarettes set aside to be returned. They had been ordered by mistake, as most smokers prefer the standard, harder packs.  

When the vendor came to pick them up, only four cartons were there. The manager started looking at the cameras to try to catch the thief. While he was looking, another employee came in and told him that one of the fast food workers who was working that day was outside smoking those specific, uncommon cigarettes.

The manager confronted the employee, who confessed and offered to pay for them to keep his job. The manager refused, and the employee was fired.

Who is stupid enough to smoke the very things you stole at the place you stole them from?

When I was ten years old, the summer program I attended went on a field trip to a local indoor waterpark. I tried using a feature where one walked across on lily-pad-like flotation devices while also using a net above, but ended up slipping off and getting trapped underneath one of them.

The worst part was that the lifeguard — nor anyone else, for that matter — seemed not to notice, and the other kids continued to walk on the lily pads, despite my predicament. After what felt like forever, I freed myself, but due to embarrassment, I said nothing about it and went to do something else.

Ten minutes later, the summer program staff announced we were going back to the site early — we’d been there for only an hour — due to inattentive lifeguards, which made me wonder what else had happened, since none of them asked if I was okay.

While shopping at a mall, I walked past a kiosk and the saleswoman at the kiosk tried to get my attention. I did what I normally do and ignored her. She tried to grab my shoulder as I walked past, so I grabbed her hand with my own hand, pulled it off my shoulder and twisted it to put her wrist into an uncomfortable angle before telling her never to touch me again. At that point, I let go and walked away.

After leaving the store I was visiting, I returned the other way and saw that the same saleswoman was at the kiosk. As I was watching her, she approached a female shopper and did the same thing when that shopper ignored her: she put her hand on the female shopper’s shoulder and tried to turn her around.

The female shopper screeched, whirled around, and hit the saleswoman in the side of the head with her purse. I don’t know what was in that purse, but the saleswoman dropped like a stone and was out cold on the floor. Mall security was there within a minute or so, and by that time the saleswoman was starting to come around.

Police were called — they happen to have officers stationed at the mall, so it didn’t take them long to arrive — and they started collecting statements from witnesses. I gave a statement from what I saw and also relayed my previous encounter with the saleswoman. I also saw them ask something of the mall security guard, who pointed up at the black domes on the ceiling, clearly indicating to the police where the security cameras were located.

The saleswoman refused medical attention and insisted on pressing charges against the shopper. The police officer laughed and said, “Lady, if the security camera footage matches up with what the witnesses have said, you’re the only one who’s going to be charged with anything.”

(I work in the food court at a membership bulk retailer. A lady comes up to the counter and orders two slices of pizza and a cup of frozen yogurt.)

Me: “If you would like, I can give you the receipt, and you can come back for the frozen yogurt when you are done with your pizzas.”

Customer: “No, I’ll take it now.”

(The customer comes back about twenty minutes later holding a cup of melted yogurt.)

Customer: “Can I get a new one? This one is all melty.”

(I am a cashier at a grocery store, checking out a mother and her teenage daughter. The daughter is doing a little dance while humming to herself.)

Customer: *looking at her daughter* “Ugh, teenagers are weird.” *to me* “Do you have any teenagers?”

Me: “Pardon?”

Customer: “Do you have any kids that are in their teens?”

Me: “Um… no… I’m eighteen.”