My friend and I (both women) were waiting in the center lane to turn left into a shopping center parking lot when a man pulled up behind us and laid on the horn. Despite the heavy traffic and absolutely zero opportunity to turn for all of three minutes, he kept honking.

Eventually, two cars took pity on us, and we were able to turn. The man behind us followed directly, so close that if we had slowed down at all, he would have hit us. [Friend] parked in the second row in the parking lot, and the man took a handicapped spot right in front of the shipping store we wanted to enter.

Friend: “Should we wait?”

Me: “Yeah. He seems like he’s in a hurry.”

[Man] got out of his car and flipped us off. We just watched without saying anything. He went in, did whatever he had to do, and pulled out to leave. We went in, did what we had to do, and walked back out.

[Man] was parked on the passenger side of our car, clearly waiting for us. He got out of his car, slamming the door into my friend’s car, and approached us as my friend opened her door.

Man: “You f****** got something to say? Huh? You got a problem?”

Friend: *Ignores him and opens her door.*

Man: *Slams his door shut.* “Step the f*** up right now! You’re gonna lose your f****** teeth!”

[Man] advanced on my friend, but I stepped between them with my keys in one hand and my little bottle of pepper spray in the other.

Me: *Smiling.* “Hello, I think you should leave.”

Man: *Turns to me.* “I ain’t talking to you, c***.”

Me: “You are now.”

Man: “What the f*** is your problem?!”

Me: “I’ve been waiting for someone to swing on me, so let’s go.”

The man looked me over, noted both of my hands, and lost some of his attitude.

Man: *Sucks his teeth.* “I ain’t got time for your bull-s***.”

He got back in his car, banging his door against my friend’s car again, and left.

I took a video of him leaving, complete with another middle finger out the window and his license plate. According to my friend, the police were not surprised when she gave them the information, and she was able to have her door repaired and repainted at the man’s expense.

I’m what you’d consider an old lady. A few years ago, I worked at a grocery store. For the summer, they would get a few sets of outdoor furniture. It was my job to get the box sets from the back when they wanted to purchase.

One day, four guys, all in their thirties, purchased the largest set we had in one box. I confirmed they had a vehicle that would accommodate the furniture, and they did. A full-size pickup. Perfect!

I headed to the back to get it out of storage, load it on a flat cart, and return to the front of the store. By myself. No assistance.

When I approached the customers, they confidently told me to step aside while they loaded it. Sure. No problem. Except they kept trying to get a two-handed grip on the large box. After several failed attempts, I asked if I could make a suggestion. They straightened up and said sure.

I positioned the cart at the base of the tailgate. The box was already taller than the tailgate, so I lifted from the bottom, using the tailgate as a lever, and slid the heavy box into the tailgate. Closed the tailgate, stepped back, and said: “Thank you! Have a great day!” And went back into the store.

Best day ever working retail! They didn’t say another word.

The day before Easter, my wife and I helped our kids make colored eggs. Some we dyed, some we painted. And others were just plastic with candy. My kids doodled little faces on them for fun.

On Easter morning, my wife and I went to my parents’ house because they live on the edge of the city, right next to some woods. They’ve got a good two-acre property with a few scattered apple trees, a garden, a play structure for the kids my dad hand-built, and some decent-sized bushes. Perfect for hiding eggs in.

We spent a good hour in the morning placing the eggs in clever but also easy-to-find places for the kids. We also invited a friend of my wife, who was a single mom with a little girl, to join in, and she was overjoyed that we invited her.

We took a little break to have a coffee and chat after hiding the eggs, as we’d planned to go out looking for them at noon since it was a little chilly that morning, but my mom suddenly came to us and said there was a lady with kids she’d never seen before hunting for the eggs in the backyard. Her kids were using the baskets we’d set aside for our own egg hunt; they’d been left sitting by the garden for when the hunt was to start, and those thieving little brats just took them without a care.

I told my wife to pull out her phone and start recording just in case. My wife and I have both dealt with entitled people before, and having video evidence can really help. We then went outside.

Me: “Hey! What do you think you’re doing here! This is private property!”

Uninvited Mom: “GAH! Don’t sneak up on me! What is wrong with you!”

Me: “What’s wrong with me?! You’re trespassing on private property and letting your kids steal our eggs!”

By this point, her two kids had run to hide behind her, and they were blowing raspberries at me.

Me: “Give those eggs back! They aren’t yours!”

Uninvited Mom: What’s wrong with you! They’re just little kids! I couldn’t afford to give them a good Easter this year! And when we saw all of the eggs you were hiding, I just thought maybe you could share. Besides, they’re just eggs! Go to the store and get more!”

Me: “My family lovingly colored and painted those eggs all day yesterday! And you will give them back! Or so help me…”

And then the woman actually slapped me across the face and stomped on my foot at the same time. I got bullied a fair bit as a kid, so it didn’t faze me nearly as much as she thought, plus, she couldn’t stomp or hit very hard at all.

I’m pretty sure she realized she had badly screwed up, because she started backing away.

Me: “Last chance! Return the eggs now!”

Uninvited Mom: No! We got them first!”

I was done with this crap and turned to tell my family to just call the police. The mom started shouting at me that we can’t call the police over some stupid eggs. My dad then went and blocked the side gate, which is how she had gotten in.

We don’t know how she was spying on us since she wasn’t even a neighbor to my parents, but when we refused to let her leave, she started screaming hysterically that we were illegally detaining her.

The police arrived in about ten minutes. By then, she had huddled with her kids on the bench by the garden. My wife showed the cops the video of her slapping me, and they quickly told her she was under arrest and forced her kids to give back the eggs and baskets. She started screaming that it wasn’t fair, and she just wanted a happy Easter for her kids. Her kids didn’t make things easy for the police either, as they tried to hit them for arresting their mom.

We made a few statements, and the police carted off the woman and her family. Then we rehid all of the eggs, which took longer because we had to double-check any places we’d already hidden eggs to see if they weren’t there. The kids were all super upset that someone tried to steal their eggs, too, and it took some work to calm them down, but they all still got their Easter egg hunt, and all was well.

That uninvited mom more or less got off easy. She pleaded guilty and got a fine. During court, I found out from her soon-to-be ex-husband that they were in the middle of a divorce that she had been intentionally dragging out. After court, we didn’t see or hear from any of them again, but I’d like to think that the situation gave the dad the edge he needed in the divorce. It’s become a funny story we like to share with people once in a while.

I work in a convenience store in a shady part of town. Whenever I’m on shift, I get this one young guy, either late teens or early twenties, who just… shows up. He talks and dresses like a gangster, but doesn’t really cause any trouble. He just hangs out in or around the store. 

He walks in again this morning:

Me: “Hey, [Gangster], are you gonna buy anything today?”

Gangster: “Chill, homey. I might get a Gatorade if you gots the color I like.”

Me: “[Manager] told you that you can’t loiter here. You scare some of the other customers.”

Gangster: “I got nuthin’ but love, baby!”

He walks toward the back of the store, and I roll my eyes. In the two years I’ve been here, he’s never really caused a scene, and another customer is walking up to me, so I shift focus to the transaction that’s about to happen.

At least I think it’s about to happen, but the customer keeps walking toward the door.

Me: “Sir, you gotta pay for those.”

Customer: “I don’t think so.”

Me: “Hey! You can’t just walk out with those!”

Customer: *Walking out the door, triggering an alarm.* “Looks like I can!”

My gangster friend walks out from the back, Gatorade in hand, looking for the source of the alarm.

Gangster: “Did that mother-f***** just…?”

Me: “Yeah. All I can do is report it.”

Mr. Gangster walks up to my counter, places the Gatorade down, and says:

Gangster: “I’ll be back.”

I see him follow the ‘customer’ (now thief) as he walks toward his bike. The thief looks nervous and picks up the pace, now running to the bike. Mr. Gangster casually power walks up to the bike, brandishes a pocketknife, and in a motion too quick for me to register, slashes both tires on the bike. Then, Mr. Gangster (still acting all casual), puts his hands out, receives the stolen goods, and starts to casually walk back to the store.

Not a word was spoken by either man during the entire interaction. By the time Mr. Gangster is standing in front of me with the returned stolen items, the thief has forlornly started walking his bike away from the lot.

Me: “Uh… thanks, but you know I can’t condone any of that, right? Don’t do that again!”

Gangster: “Nah, nah, shawty. I gotta look out for you and this place. This the only place that keep the Gatorade color I like.”

He then pays for his Gatorade in exact change, gives me a wink, and walks outside to enjoy his drink on the small bench outside.

I let him sit there as long as he wanted.

Apparently, a family BBQ that I missed turned into a bit of drama involving an altercation between my dad and an in-law.

I overheard my mom on the phone with the in-laws’ spouse, discussing what to do with their husbands. The morning after the BBQ. I am just waking up to hear my mom’s side of the conversation with zero context.

Mom: “Look, I know your husband is a police officer.”

Pause.

Mom: “Yes, I know that [Dad] said, “f*** the police”.”

Pause.

Mom: “But if your husband hadn’t gone straight to punching, he would have heard him follow up that statement with, “Sting’s solo work is much better”.”