Textbook Case Of Creepiness

, , , , , , , | Related | January 10, 2019

(My older brother and I have a typical brother-sister relationship, though most everyone I meet says we’re way closer than a lot of siblings. One day, my cousin, who lives nearby and has always been best friends with my brother, comes over. They’re both three years older, and we all live at our homes. My girlfriend comes over, too.)

Brother: “[My Name]! [Girlfriend] is here!”

Me: “Thanks!”

(My cousin walks into the room just as I greet my girlfriend, and we move to go upstairs.)

Cousin: “Hey, what’s a pretty girl like you doing holding those textbooks? Let [My Name] carry them!” *laughs, grinning at my girlfriend and my brother*

Brother: “Actually, you should let me carry them.”

(I’m shocked because it sounds like my brother is flirting with her, and I thought he would never do that.)

Girlfriend: “No. I’ve got them, thank you very much.”

(She sneers, though I know she’s scared, because my brother is probably a foot taller than us, and my cousin isn’t much smaller.)

Brother: “Please, just one?”

(He winks at me, where my cousin can’t see, and I nod to my girlfriend. My brother takes the books and whirls around, hitting my cousin in the head.)

Me: “[Brother]!”

Brother: “Leave. Now.”

Cousin: “What the f***, man?

Brother: “You’ve always been a creep, and I put up with it when it was about porn stars and s***, but my sister’s girlfriend? No way! Get the f*** out of my house and don’t come back!”

Cousin: “You’re a [LGBT slur], [My Name]? No wonder you’re so ugly! I—“

Brother: “SHUT. THE. F***. UP! NOW!”

(My brother throws the book on the floor, and grabs my cousin’s hair, which is past his ears.)

Brother: “[My Name], door!”

(I scrambled over the railing, dropped a foot to the floor, and ran to open the door. My brother pulled our cousin along and threw him outside. I moved to slam the door, but my cousin grabbed my arm and started screaming cuss words. He tried to yank me outside, but my brother punched him in the face, and as soon as our cousin let go of me, slammed the door closed, locking it. Obviously, we didn’t drive him home, and things were a bit tense at Christmas.)

When Delinquents Meet Scissors

, , , , , , | Learning | January 2, 2019

(I am in eighth grade. The Family and Consumer Sciences teacher is in her mid-60s, and to be honest she is probably too old to be teaching. She is a short, almost frail woman, and she holds no authority over the students. A small group of us — myself included — are seated at the large tables closest to her desk, listening and attempting to complete a sewing project for our final grades. The other 25-odd students have completely ignored her instructions and are either grouped up and talking, or they have gotten on the computers. I have my back to the individual desks when suddenly there is a scream. As I turn around, I see two students — a girl and a guy — fighting, pushing each other, and pushing into the desks around them. The girl quickly falls to the floor, and the guy turns around and storms towards the classroom door.)

Teacher: *yelling* “What is going on?! Where are you going?!”

(The door to the classroom slams shut. Within seconds, the girl stands up. At this point, the entire class is quiet, focused on what’s going on. As the girl turns around and faces the class, I see that the entire right side of her face is completely covered in blood. She looks like a two-faced comic book villain. But the shocking part is that as she disentangles herself from the desks and moves to the center of the room, she is smiling. Then, she begins to cackle gleefully. She has a large build, towering over the teacher. She doesn’t look at anyone, but leisurely strolls toward the door.)

Girl: *in a sing-song voice* “Oh, I’m going to f****** kill that b****!”

(She disappears into the hallway and a second later the door slams again. I notice a bloody handprint along the edge of the wall. The entire class just sits there in stunned silence. After a moment, the teacher speaks.)

Teacher: *sharply* “Everyone back to their assigned seats, NOW!”

(There is a momentary scramble, and everyone is suddenly where they should be.)

Teacher: “I don’t know what just happened, but that is not acceptable!” *her voice begins to rise until she is screaming* “I have told you guys a million times to listen to me! None of you ever listen! None of you care! You’re all going to kill each other and you’re all going to jail! You hear me? YOU’RE ALL DELINQUENTS!”

(At this moment, a student that has spent the entire class in the front office comes waltzing in. He immediately stops when he sees how quiet the room is, sensing the tension. All eyes turn to him.)

Student: “Uh, hey, guys, what’s up?”

Teacher: *completely explodes* “AND YOU’RE A DELINQUENT, TOO!”

Student: “What? What did I do? I wasn’t even here!” *quickly finds his seat and sits down*

(The teacher continued to tear us a new one, pretty much until the final bell rang. As I stiffly left the classroom, I saw many bloody hand prints and smears of blood all the way up to the end of the elective hall. Once I got home, I deflated and cried to my mother about what had happened. I later found out that both students were arrested and taken away in police cars. The girl had a small cut on her eyebrow, the result of the guy throwing a pair of scissors at her. Though the cut was not very large, it was deep, and required a couple of stitches. Had the scissors been about half an inch lower, she could have lost her eye. I’m not sure if charges were pressed, but both students were suspended. My best friend was neighbors with the guy and said that she didn’t think he spent more than a night in police custody, as she saw him the following morning. I later found out that the girl sought help for some underlying issues and within a year, she was doing much better. She and I were fairly acquainted, but we never spoke of that day. The teacher also retired a year or two later. A few students from that class are actually in jail now.)

Won’t Take This Sitting Down

, , , , , , , | Right | December 27, 2018

(I’m picking up a few last-minute, small presents four days before Christmas. As expected, it’s absolute chaos. This centre has mobility scooters and wheelchairs shoppers can hire. I’m a complete paraplegic and have my own, very expensive, custom-made wheelchair that looks nothing like the ones you can hire. After my second shop, a lady approaches me.)

Lady: “You need to give me that.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

(I’m confused, as I have only picked up a necklace for my wife that I’d had custom made.)

Lady: “That wheelchair. You need to give it to me.”

Me: “Ma’am, this is my chair; I need it. Customer service has wheelchairs you can hire.”

(I turn away.)

Lady: *now yelling while grabbing the back of my chair* “They don’t have any left, and my mother needs this wheelchair!”

Me: “Ma’am, this is my own chair. I’m sorry, but you can’t have it.”

Lady: *still yelling and holding my chair* “Listen, you little s***. My mother needs this wheelchair; you will let her use it, because you’re just a lazy piece of s*** that can’t be bothered to walk.”

(She tipped the back of the chair forward, effectively landing me on the ground, and took off with my chair. A crowd of people had stopped and someone went to a nearby shop to get me a seat while I waited for security. Another shopper who was an off-duty paramedic checked me over. Security found the lady in the car-park and held her until the police showed up. She was charged with theft and assault.)

Sales Shoppers Attack In (Back)Packs

, , , , | Right | December 17, 2018

(I have gone to a sports and hiking store that has a big sale going on, and I figured they would have backpacks on sale, too. A couple of women enter the store, very fashionably dressed and looking quite out of place compared to the other customers. I overhear this conversation between them when passing them:)

Woman #1: “Hey, [Woman #2], what do you think I should buy? I just love sales!”

Woman #2: “I don’t know; just pick out something cute.”

(Most items on sale in this store can’t be described as “cute,” more like practical and comfortable, but I don’t pay any more attention to them after I have passed them. I notice a black backpack that I am looking for, the last one of that color. I examine the backpack and look at the price tag; it is quite cheap. I put it down on an empty shelf, still steadily resting my other hand on it, and flip my wallet open to check if I have enough money to buy it. Then I suddenly feel the bag being pulled away from under my hand. I look up and see one of the women from before, triumphantly holding the backpack up to check it out.)

Me: “Hey, I’m sorry, ma’am, I intend to buy that. Can I please have it back?”

Woman #1: “No! You weren’t holding on to it enough, so now it’s mine! Find another one!”

Me: “That black one is the last of its color, and I really would like to have it. I was just double-checking to see if I had enough money to buy it. And I was actually holding on to it. You snatched it out from under my hand.”

Woman #1: “Yeah, right! You’re just too poor to buy it, and you just left it there without even putting it back! You are the reason people hate working in retail because people like you never put anything back in its own place!”

(By this time she had raised her voice so much that she was drawing attention to herself from all the other customers, and I even saw a security guy on stand-by, ready to intervene. I decided to try to be firm but nice, so I wouldn’t come out looking like the crazy one.)

Me: *taking a non-menacing step forward and stretching out my hand* “Could I now please have the backpack back?”

(Even though my movement was relatively slow, the woman somehow took it as a threat and suddenly yanked me by the hair and gave me a push. I was totally unprepared for that so I crashed into a shelf, luckily not tipping it over.)

Security: “Okay, ma’am, you’re behaving in a threatening way and you attacked a customer. You need to come with me.”

Woman #1: “No! She tried to take my backpack! She probably can’t even afford it. Look at her! It’s my right to buy it!”

(She proceeded to rip down every display backpack from the shelf and tossed them on the floor. It didn’t take long for the security guy to overpower her and escort her out, while she was still screaming bloody murder.)

Woman #1: “This isn’t the end of this! I demand that I get to buy that backpack!”

(After the commotion, I got the backpack back and went to the check-out with it, where the cashier actually gave me a 30% discount on the already discounted price, to make up for the trouble I went through. I did catch a glimpse of the other woman outside the store, and she gave me an apologetic look and mouthed “sorry.” Well, the main thing is that I got my backpack, even though the process wasn’t exactly drama-free. Considering that the woman didn’t even know what she was going to buy when entering the store, she sure made up her mind in the end!)

Assault Is Only Okay If The Person Is Fake, Apparently

, , , , , | Right | December 9, 2018

CONTENT WARNING: Physical Assault

(As floor manager, I have a phone on me that employees can call if they have issues. I get a call from an employee who says she has a customer who wants to speak to a manager about a return. I can hear the angry customer yelling in the background, so I radio security as a precaution. When I get there, the customer is red-faced and yelling at the employee. He looks at me and rolls his eyes.)

Customer: “I said I wanted to speak to a manager! Manager! Not for you to call a friend over! This is bulls***!”

Employee: “She is the manager.”

Customer: “Bulls***.”

(I tap my metal nametag, which says my name and, “Manager,” and reassure him that I am the manager.)

Customer: “Bulls***! You think you can get away with a fake nametag and get out of trouble? I want the real manager now!

Me: “I am the manager, and if you don’t lower your voice, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

(Suddenly, the customer lunged at me and grabbed my arm, pushing me back against the counter, and started trying to rip my nametag off of my jacket. He succeeded in basically grabbing and groping my breast while I tried to get away, before the pin back popped open, gouging me. Suddenly, one of my plain-clothes security guards appeared, grabbed the guy from the back, and pulled him to the ground. The guy finally stopped fighting and the police took him in. I had a cut, and bruises on my upper arm and chest. We had a mountain of paperwork between the assault and the fact that a security guard got physically involved. I found out that in his defence, they guy kept repeating that he thought I was a fake manager, and therefore that the assault should be okay!)

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