Unfiltered Story #109374

, , | Unfiltered | April 27, 2018

(My boyfriend works in a rehab facility for teens with either psych issues, substance abuse issues, or both. This particular client is there for drug related problems)

Client: *jokingly* Well I guess I’ll just go kill myself then!

(He walks away, pauses, then turns back to my boyfriend)

Client: Don’t chart that. I was just joking, I swear.

Boyfriend: Ehhh… technically I’m supposed to, but I know you’re not suicidal so I’ll let it slide.

Client: Jesus, thank you. I forgot you actually have kids like that here – I don’t wanna be here any longer than I have to!

An Unbearable Abundance Of Bears

, , , | Right | April 23, 2018

(I am getting some shampoo when I overhear the following conversation between an employee and a customer shopping for deodorant as a gift.)

Customer: “Well, he does like Old Spice.”

Employee: “We have several gift sets with Old Spice right here.”

Customer: “Oh, this has a bear on it. Why is there a bear on it?”

Employee: “It’s just their advertising. See? This one has a ship.”

Customer: “But there is a bear on it.”

Employee: “Would you like to get one of these?”

Customer: “I don’t know… There is a bear on it.”

(She walked away without buying any of them… or the bear.)

A Storm In A Plastic Cup

, , , , | Right | April 21, 2018

(I’m working as a traffic director at the state fair with several other people. We all have radios. I’m directing traffic along a road with a few other directors, all about a yard apart.)

Radio: “Come in, supervisor. We have a problem.”

Supervisor: “Yes, what’s the problem?”

Radio: “Um… There’s an old lady here at the tracks. She’s driving around the track and throwing plastic cups at people. She’s mad. I need backup.”

Supervisor: *stifled laughter* “I’m on my way.”

(The call ended, and my whole line was doubled over in laughter. The job was dull but calls like that made it.)

No Shrimping Violet

, , , , , | Right | April 6, 2018

(A server returns a dish sent back by a customer, who says she knows the shrimp isn’t cooked because it is pink. I return the shrimp to a pan to sauté it until there is a slightly golden-brown edge to the already-cooked shrimp. I take it out to the customer myself.)

Me: “Here you are, ma’am. Sorry it wasn’t to your liking. I cooked it longer for you. But so you know, that shrimp was completely cooked through and will come out like that in the future.”

Customer: “Are you sure? I mean, when I cook shrimp it turns white.”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m absolutely sure. I can make you something else if you prefer, but I can’t cook the shrimp any more than it is.”

Customer: “It’s just that I’ve never had cooked shrimp that was pink before.”

Me: “Oh, I’ve never had cooked shrimp that wasn’t pink.”

Chairing This Situation

, , , , , , | Learning | March 23, 2018

Many years ago, I was in eighth grade and we had a yearly event for that grade that was basically a picnic. We had group projects to work on, so to be nice to the other people in my group, I brought folding chairs for us to sit on outside while we ate.

The teachers called all the students up to get our food, and when I got back to our spot, all four of my chairs were gone. I was pissed and went around asking for my chairs back. Two kids gave them up with no issue. Two other boys told me I’d just have to wait until they were done with them. When I pointed out that my (very girly) name was written on each chair they dismissed me and told me to get lost. Fed up, I did the only logical thing; I walked behind them and dumped them on their butts in the grass, taking my chairs back to my spot.

While I was eating lunch, a teacher came up to ask me if I had stolen some chairs from some boys. I calmly told her that, no, they were my chairs, and they had stolen them from me.

We all got sent to the principal’s office. When it finally came my turn, the principal looked at me and asked, “Who are you? I’ve never met you before.” She commended me on standing up for myself, but said I should have gotten a teacher to help. I pointed out that they were all busy and that none had been available. She gave all three of us detention. Guess who was the only one who showed up? The office worker who oversaw detention felt badly for me, so I got to watch videos on a spare computer and have some pizza that had been bought for the staff. I later learned that the two boys I’d dumped in the grass were detention regulars, and I was apparently the “nicest kid they’d had in detention.”

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