Parents Are (Pea)Nuts!

, , , , , , , | | Right | May 22, 2019

(At our store, there is an open bin of salted peanuts, still in the shell, that you can scoop into bags. As I am finishing up with a round of stocking, I notice a kid holding himself up over the edge of the bin, grabbing peanuts, licking the salt off the outside, then dropping them back into the bin. I immediately hurry over.)

Me: “Hey, bud. I need you to get down from there. You can’t be licking the peanuts; you don’t know how many people have been touching them with dirty hands before you.”

Kid: “Eww!”

(He hops down, and I start reaching for a bag so I can try to scoop out the contaminated nuts as best I can. Then, I feel a hand on my arm which yanks me backward. I turn, just in time to duck away from a swatting hand. There is a lady standing behind me, looking livid.)

Woman: “How dare you?! Who gave you the right to talk to my son like that?”

Me: “Ma’am, he was licking the peanuts, which is unhygienic and a health hazard. He can’t…”

Woman: *red-faced* “GET ME YOUR MANAGER!”

(She tries to swing at me again, and I duck backward. One of the managers from the deli comes hurrying up.)

Manager: “What’s the matter? What’s going on here?”

(I speak up before the woman can shout some more.)

Me: “This lady is upset that I told her child to stop licking the peanuts.”

(The manager’s face screws up in a look of distaste.)

Manager: “Yuck.”

(The woman let out a wordless scream and dragged her son towards the front of the store, leaving her cart behind. I ended up putting it away after scooping the top layer of peanuts into bags to be written off.)

The Bigger Child

, , , , , | | Learning | May 16, 2019

(I am a kindergarten teacher at a private school. The children are waiting for their parents to pick them up. It has been quite a difficult day.)

Mother: *furious* “EXCUSE ME! Why is my son telling me you did not give him some birthday cake?”

Me: “Actually—”

Mother: “I demand you give him some cake now, or I am calling the police for abuse!”

Me: “Actually, Mrs. [Mother], your son did get a piece of cake; however, he decided to throw it at one of the girls. Then, when [Son’s Friend] didn’t give him his piece, he kicked him in the crotch. We do not reward bullying or violence, Mrs. [Mother], and your son was appropriately reprimanded. A letter will be sent to you with more details.”

Mother: *blushing* “HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE ME SON OF BULLYING?! I DEMAND CAKE NOW OR I WILL HAVE YOUR A**E FIRED!”

Me: “You will not use that language in this building. I am going to have to ask you to leave. You and your son are no longer welcome here.”

(She continued screaming for another couple of minutes until another teacher came out with the aforementioned cake inside a glass cover. She stormed up to it and tried to wrestle it off the teacher. The cover was broken and both the mother and the teacher were injured. The mother then stormed out, smashing a window in the process. We were all a bit rattled by it, but tried to calm everything down when two police officers arrived. They said they’d had reports of a woman — me — wielding a knife, demanding that I “convert the children to the burka” — a literal quote. We showed them the security footage of the area and had to go down to the police station to give statements — the mother included, who was still outside being seen by a paramedic. The other teacher refused to press charges and we were all free to go. A week later, the mother showed up again to drop off her son. I refused, saying they were no longer welcome. She had another tantrum and broke the same window we had just replaced the day before. She then left, screaming that she would take her money elsewhere. At this school, parents do not have to pay for kindergarten if they are claiming Jobseeker’s Allowance, which she was. Her sister left her son with us occasionally, and I’ve heard that that mother has built such a reputation that she has to take her son out of the county and is going to be homeschooling. I’m considering allowing the child to attend with us again, even if just for a bit of stability, but I’m fearful of what he might do. It was a first-time incident, but it was pretty serious.)

Four-Way Turn Becomes One-Way Nightmare

, , , , | | Legal | May 7, 2019

(I’m heading to pick my daughter up from school when I come to a four-way stop. I stop and wait my turn and then slowly pull into the intersection. The driver on my left also starts to go but not as slowly. I slam on the brakes, but they do not, and they hit me. There’s not much damage. I’m not super angry until I exit the vehicle and the other driver starts to lay into me.)

Driver: “What the f*** do you think you’re doing? Do you not know how a stop sign works?”

Me: *already over this situation* “It was my turn. I went. I’m going to call the police and my insurance company.”

Driver: “You’d better call the police, because if I do you’re going to jail!”

(I sit in my car and call the police, and then call my husband to pick up our daughter. The other driver stands in the road screaming into his phone about the “stupid b****” who destroyed his car. Eventually, the police pull up to the scene.)

Driver: “Thank God! Y’all need to handle this girl; she’s been cussing and causing a scene since she hit me!”

Officer: “She seems calm enough. For now, sir, let me get your details and a statement for the accident report, and then we can get y’all moved out of the road.”

(The driver goes on to tell the officer that I came flying through the stop sign and plowed into his vehicle.)

Officer: “Okay, sir, is that your official statement on how this accident occurred?”

Driver: “Yes! That’s how it happened!”

Officer: “All right, then. [My Name]! Did [Husband] ever install that dash cam he got for you?”

Me: “Yeah, it was on. I just have to load the footage on a computer.”

Officer: “I’ll see if it will work on the one in the car. Is [Husband] already on his way or do you need me to get him on the radio?”

Me: “No, he’s picking up [Daughter]; that’s where I was headed.”

(The other driver started to pale when he realized what was going on. The video footage clearly showed that I’d stopped and that it was my turn to go. It also showed the other driver on his phone when he gunned it into the intersection. I chose not to press charges and let his insurance company deal with him.)

These Incidents Are Escalating

, , , , , , | | Right | April 30, 2019

I work in a department store. The section I work in is at the base of the escalators in our store, so my coworkers and I have front-row seats to the customers — from small kids to full-grown adults–  running up the down escalator and vice-versa, putting their feet on the sides and sliding down, sitting on the steps, taking baby carriages on the escalator, etc. I’ve gotten into the habit of using my best Mom-voice to tell people, politely but firmly, to not play around on the escalator when I catch them at it. I look very young for my age, and I occasionally get sass and attitude when this happens, especially from the middle-schoolers. I’m determined to continue being a “b****,” however, because of never-ending events like these.

We had a customer with an infant in the child-seat and a toddler in the main basket of the shopping cart he had brought in from another store in the mall. He tried to push the shopping cart onto the up escalator, without lifting the back end to keep it level like people will do with their baby carriages and strollers. The front of the cart lifted up at a sharp angle and then proceeded to bounce off the rising steps repeatedly. It took him several tries to pull it completely off the escalator, while his screaming children were badly shaken and rattled around, after which he and his wife kept shopping rather than escape the judgmental eyes of everyone around him.

We had another woman with a stroller forget the balancing trick, as well. Her kid fell out of the stroller while on the escalator. She luckily managed to reach him and pick him up before they hit the bottom.

An elderly woman with one of those rolling shopping crates with a long handle tripped and fell with her crate at the bottom of the down escalator. The person immediately behind her tripped over her and got her hair caught in the moving handrail. The next two people joined the pile, as well, one of them hitting his head and cutting it open, before someone managed to hit the emergency off switch. The first woman pulled herself and her crate upright, told us she was fine, and then walked off while her casualties were still lying in a pile on the ground. We were cleaning up the blood for an hour.

The coup de grace happened just yesterday. Our escalators are set up in an X shape. For some reason, a girl of about nine or so riding the down escalator reached out to grab the handrail of the up escalator while she passed it. Maybe she was thinking she would let it lift her for a second before letting go… except she didn’t let go. My manager looked up to see this terrified girl above her, hanging over the side of the up escalator, clinging onto the moving handrail. My manager called up to her to keep hanging on, don’t let go, as she was carried up to the second floor. To this kid’s extreme luck, we have thick, two-foot-wide molding that runs the length of the opening between the two floors, and she was able to drop onto it as she reached the top and wait for someone to get a ladder and lift her over the glass balcony wall.

Please spare a sales associate from cleaning up your blood. Don’t fool around on escalators.

Harry Potter And The Half-Ripped Shoe

, , , , | Friendly | April 30, 2019

(I am waiting for the midnight premiere of “Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.” I am over an hour early and it is already very crowded, but the staff won’t unlock the doors until 11:30 pm. An employee comes to unlock the door and there’s a woman close to the entrance.)

Woman: “Be careful; I’m pregnant.”

(As soon as the doors open, I run in with the crowd, pushing into the pregnant woman. While I am running in, someone steps on the back of my flip flop and rips it. After I find my seat, I go to buy snacks, and I apologize to the woman.)

Me: “I’m sorry. I got excited and I wasn’t thinking. If it makes you feel any better…” *shows her my ripped shoe*

Woman: “A little.”

(I don’t go to midnight premieres anymore. I always wait a few days so it’s not so crowded.)

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