About To Get A Pickup Put Down

, , , , | Right | October 12, 2018

(I am the operations manager for a popular department store. It’s my birthday. We have closed up, and despite working a full shift, I still got to go on a nice birthday date with my boyfriend. I get a call at two am from the alarm company for the store; they have a motion sensor going off at the store and none of the other three managers are answering their phones. I tell them to not dispatch a patrol car yet; our store is charged for that and it’s likely a false alarm. I get up, and my boyfriend insists on driving me since I had several glasses of wine that evening. We arrive at the store fifteen minutes later, and there is actually a person. She has wedged our automatic doors slightly open and is jabbing a stick into the space where the lock would be. She sees our headlights and turns around before going back to it. I get out of the car, followed by my boyfriend.)

Me: “You need to stop that.”

Customer: “No, I ordered items for pickup and I am picking them up.”

Me: “You can’t be serious. Stop this. Step away from the door or I’m calling the police.”

Customer: “Do you work here? Go get my items; they’re under [Last Name]. It should be [a whole slew of things].”

(My boyfriend is getting fed up. I’m fed up. This woman is crazy. I realize I don’t have a nametag on.)

Me: “You have just gotten me out of bed on my birthday to come down here and tell you you’re behaving like an entitled child! If you don’t step away from those doors, you’re going to have to call the cops on me, because, so help me, I’m done putting up with crazy s*** like this.”

(She looks at me with wide eyes.)

Me: “I don’t want your business. Cancel your order when you get home. I don’t want to see you here ever again; are we clear?”

(She scampered off. My boyfriend and I stopped for late-night snacks on the way home.)

I Don’t Have The Conserved Energy To Deal With You

, , , , | Right | October 12, 2018

(HR has just made an announcement over the loudspeaker that the store will be turning off some lights and turning down the air conditioning in order to conserve energy. I walk out onto the floor just as he’s finished making the announcement.)

Me: “I can take the next guest!”

Guest: *putting her items onto the counter* “Why are the lights off?”

Me: “We’re conserving energy.”

Guest: “Well, they should say something before turning the lights off!”

Unfiltered Story #122524

, , , | Unfiltered | October 7, 2018

(I am a bartender at a New York bar. However, I come from the Southwest. On a very slow night, I am chatting with a customer, only to realize that he is from the reservation next to my hometown. We talk for a couple minutes, and he went on his merry way. A new customer had arrived near the end of the interaction, and she looked at me with an expression I can only call disgust.)

Customer: “How could you allow that?”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “Why was he speaking foreign languages?! This is America. I bet he’s an illegal. If you come here, you should speak the language.”

(As she spoke, she got more and more incensed. Finally, she was nearly screaming at me. Finally, I was able to get a word in edgewise.)

Me: “Ma’am, that man was a Native American, and he was speaking Navajo.”

(With that, the customer left.)

Shopping Is An Endurance Sport

, , , , | Friendly | October 6, 2018

(I work at a popular party supply store. I overhear a young boy, maybe eight, say this to his mom after they finish their transaction.)

Boy: “Now get me out of here, or else I’m gonna die.”

(Me, too, kid.)

Time To Scratch Off This Relationship

, , , , , , | Related | October 5, 2018

My brother is one of the worst human beings on the face of the earth, and it is no secret to most in my family that we despise each other. When our parents separated, he went with our father — who is just as bad — much to my joy.

Still, our mother has the attitude that he can change. That unfortunately means he is invited to most holidays, including Christmas. The rest of the family aren’t exactly enthusiastic to have him around, but we are making an attempt for our mother’s sake. Eventually, I head into my room where he has his back to me and is looking into the box where I am keeping a few scratch-off cards I managed to win close to $100 on. I am understandably suspicious but I back off, and it is clear he hasn’t noticed me. A few minutes later, I go in and I see him tucking something into his pocket.

I say nothing, letting time pass until he leaves, and then checking my box to see exactly what I expected: my scratch-offs are gone. Naturally, I tell the rest of my family, and another of my brothers heads out, returning some time later with $150 — the extra $50 are an apology from another family member. The worst part is that my mother still insists on forgiving him, and tries to get us to make up, insisting he’s changed now that he’s got a job.

No one’s told her that he’s been posting pictures of his “stash” on Facebook.

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