Rock Around The Clock

, , | Friendly | November 7, 2016

After my freshman year of college, I sublet a friend’s room for the summer, in an apartment on the ground floor, to be closer to my job. I share the apartment with her roommate and her roommate’s boyfriend. We all get along really well, spend time together whenever we feel like it, etc.

The week I move in, they warn me about a neighbor across the hall they call the “Random Rock Band Guy.” Apparently he had a habit of playing Rock Band at odd hours, but mentioning the noise to the apartment manager had apparently not been helpful.

About two weeks later, I’m sound asleep on a weeknight, when around three am there’s a blast of music so loud you can hear it throughout our apartment. I stumble to the front door and open it a bit to peek out. Across the hall, the door is wide open, and Random Rock Band Guy is sitting there in nothing but his boxers and a backwards hat, banging away on the drum set that comes with the game. I stare for a minute before locking the door and crawling back into bed.

Since he isn’t actually harming anyone, and the Rock Band playing is so sporadic, there isn’t really much the manager was willing to do about it.

It isn’t until I am about to move out at the end of the summer that I think of playing some kind of retaliation music whenever he starts up.

It didn’t work.

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Gotta Steal ‘Em All

, , , | Right | November 6, 2016

A coworker and I are working the evening shift along the back wall in a local big box store, which means we’re just cleaning up after a day’s worth of customers have gone through.

The seasonal department is right next to the toy aisles, and while straightening up a row of patio furniture displays, we find a pile of Pokémon cards and three foil wrappers. There should be 30 cards from those wrappers, and we usually find all of the cards, or none. Typically none. This pile has 28 cards. Someone found what they were looking for, apparently.

Fast forward 10-15 minutes, and we’re cleaning up toys. We happen to be standing across from the collector cards wall, and a little boy (six-ish?) comes around the corner. He pulls two Pokémon cards out of his pocket and starts gushing at us about his super cool Pikachu and his super cool Jolteon.

My coworker and I just stood there speechless. The kid’s mother came around the corner and told the kid to stop bothering “the workers.” Kid covertly slipped the cards back in his pocket. The mother had no idea.

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A Mother Knows…

, , , | Hopeless | November 6, 2016

I was recently at a popular chain store with my three children. My oldest is four and had found a toy she wanted. I told her no and she proceeded to throw the worst tantrum she’s ever thrown.

The entire store could hear her. As I was walking the front of the store trying to keep my younger two content while their sister is yelling, two moms came up to me and proceeded to tell me I was doing a great job parenting. They even talked to my oldest and commented to her how they could tell I was such a great mom which caused her to stop throwing her tantrum, at least momentarily.

A huge thank you to those two moms. Your kind words of support not only helped make my daughter’s tantrum more bearable but also made my day.

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A Mother Knows…

, , , | Hopeless | November 6, 2016

I was recently at a popular chain store with my three children. My oldest is four and had found a toy she wanted. I told her no and she proceeded to throw the worst tantrum she’s ever thrown.

The entire store could hear her. As I was walking the front of the store trying to keep my younger two content while their sister is yelling, two moms came up to me and proceeded to tell me I was doing a great job parenting. They even talked to my oldest and commented to her how they could tell I was such a great mom which caused her to stop throwing her tantrum, at least momentarily.

A huge thank you to those two moms. Your kind words of support not only helped make my daughter’s tantrum more bearable but also made my day.

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Parental Misguidance, Part 3

, | Related | November 5, 2016

I work at a kids’ clothing store. One of our regular customers typically comes in with her four kids, usually during our slow hours, thankfully.

Her kids always tear the store apart. They somehow get behind the TV and unplug it. Once they almost knocked it over (thankfully, it’s the only breakable thing in the store). They knock over every display, they run into displays and hurt themselves, they throw whatever they can reach at each other or on the ground.

The entire store has to be straightened when they leave, despite my best attempts to follow them along and clean up, all the while saying things like “That’s ok” and “Good thing we don’t sell breakables” with my best customer service smile.

The customer typically spends two hours in the store. While shopping, she’ll occasionally say things like “Guys stop,” “I’m not going to buy you anything,” “[Child], why did you do that?” in the most monotone, uninterested voice I’ve ever heard from a parent addressing a child. She never really looks at them, never interrupts her shopping, never physically intervenes, and she always buys $200-$500 worth of kids clothing, after repeatedly telling her kids she won’t buy them anything.

 

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