When Push Comes To Shove…

, , , , , | Related | August 5, 2020

I am a thirty-year-old man and my sister, her son, and I are visiting our parents’ house. My nephew is seven years old and loves me but he also tends to see me more of a playmate than as an authority figure.

I am talking with my mother and sister and my nephew keeps swatting my side and trying to shove me repeatedly. I tell him to stop between sentences as I talk to the other adults; however, he persists.

Finally, I’m getting fed up, so I lightly shove him back. It’s not a hard shove, but he does have to step backward and regain his balance.

Me: “How do you like it?”

My mother and sister are giving me “WTF” looks.

Me: “What? He started it.”

My mother and sister laugh incredulously.

Mom: “How old are you?!”

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His Mind Is Pie In The Sky

, , , | Right | August 2, 2020

As I am putting away pies in a refrigerator case, I am hit by an electric wheelchair shopping cart.

Me: “Sir!”

The customer ignores me and continues to roll forward. I am literally knocked over, dropping pie slices all over the floor, and rolled over up to my knees.

Me: “Sir!”

Customer: “Oh! This isn’t my fault! Why are you in my way?”

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Talk Crap, Get Smacked

, , , , , , , | Friendly | July 27, 2020

I start karate when I am nine at this small, lesser-known dojo a couple of cities away from where I live. My Sifu — Sensei, master, etc. — is the greatest and when we move to another state at one point during my training, she works with us so my brother and I can continue via her own YouTube tutorials and video calls. 

We move back to the state a year or two later and there are a couple of new students that have never met me face to face; they only know I am a girl and have a pretty high belt. 

I walk into the dojo for the first time in a couple of years and one of the newest kids, seeing how short I am — I am probably around 5’3” at the time — scoffs at me and my brown belt.

Rude Student: “You’re so short! I always thought you were taller. No wonder you did classes online; [Brother] is the only one shorter than you!” 

He laughs at me, taking into account my reddening face. I have a hard time controlling my emotions when someone insults me.

Rude Student: “Look at how red your face is getting! I bet you can’t even land one hit on me!”

I am about to reply, but Sifu calls us over to start class and welcome my brother and me back to the dojo. I think that is the end of the confrontation, but it is Monday and that means Spar Night.

I get paired with the rude student because he is closer to my height than any of the other kids.

Rude Student: “Looks like I get to see if you can land a hit.”

He smirks at me.

Me: “I’d like to see you land one on me first.”

He scoffs.

Rude Student: “Easy!”

He proceeds to use up all his energy trying to land a hit on me as I dance around the room blocking and dodging every hit.

Rude Student: “Hold still!”

Me: “If you insist.”

I stand still, waiting for the punch. 

He throws it and I duck, coming up under his arm and uppercutting him in the stomach. We are wearing sparing gear, but apparently, it isn’t enough to protect his stomach from my angry shot. He falls to the mat, gasping.

Me: “I thought you said I couldn’t land a hit.”

He stayed away from me after that, especially when we started a Ju-Jitsu course later that month.

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They’re About To Become Infamous

, , , , , | Right | July 22, 2020

I am the night auditor for my hotel. I work from 11:00 pm to 7:00 am Sunday to Friday. A guest walks in with multiple people. They are all drunk and being very loud. I look at the clock and it’s 2:00 am.

Me: “Sir, could I please ask you and your group to be a little quieter? I have guests who are trying to sleep on this floor.”

Guest: “I’m f****** famous! I don’t have to care about these people because I make more money than them. Aren’t I more important?!”

Me: “Sir… everyone is equal under this roof.”

Guest: “Oh, go f*** yourself.” 

Ten minutes pass, and I hear screaming and crying and someone running through the halls. The phones begin to ring off the hook. Upstairs, the shouting gets louder.

Guest: “You dumb f****** b****! You’re no good without me!”

I watch the guest from earlier start to hit his girlfriend and scream at her and force her into a chair. I instantly call the police. Ten mins later, the police show up and I explain to them that these men from… a very trashy TV show… are staying at the hotel getting wasted and being super rude.

Guest: “Look, man, I’m famous. I’m on TV. I can’t get in trouble. Look, I’ll do you favors if you let me go.”

After the cops calm him down and get his girlfriend to leave, they all walk up to my desk and ask me if I want to talk to the irate guest. I say yes. 

Me: “Sir, I cannot have you disrespecting my guests, as well as me, and disturbing the atmosphere. If you continue to act like this, I will call these fellas back out here to escort you out.”

Literally moments after the police left, this guy started running through the halls to look for his girlfriend. He even had a friend of his help him search for her, and when they found her, as I watched on the camera, she looked like she was going to throw up out of fear. In the morning, I told the owner of the hotel what happened. He not only banned them for life, but he also charged them full price for the damages they caused. After all, they are famous; they can afford it.

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When A Regular Behaves Most Irregular

, , , , , | Right | July 17, 2020

I work in a fairly busy restaurant and have to go for essential surgery just before Mother’s Day, which, naturally, is extremely busy. I’ve cleared things with my boss, and unfortunately, the surgery doesn’t go as planned and ends up being much more severe than I first hoped.

When I’m not completely dosed up on painkillers, I decide to drop in and update my boss and coworkers on the situation and how I may need more time away than planned. Luckily, they’re all awesome, and while I’m there, we end up just chatting and catching up when it’s not distracting them.

I’m fairly tired and just about to leave when one of my regulars comes up to me.

Customer: “You! You weren’t here on Mother’s Day! Why not?!”

I try not to sound too tired or uncaring.

Me: “Oh, uh… Hi, [Regular], I’m actually on medical leave right now. I won’t be back for a while.”

The customer huffs angrily at me.

Customer: “Don’t lie to me; you just wanted to skip working Mother’s Day, didn’t you?! It doesn’t matter; you can get my usual order now. Everyone else ignores me here!”

I am trying to wrap my head around her behaviour.

Me: “I… I’m sorry, but I really can’t do that. I was just about to go home to rest; I only had surgery a few days ago. I literally just came in to update [Boss].”

She starts trying to push me off my chair. Thankfully, my coworkers catch me; my balance is so bad at this point!

Customer: “Stop making excuses and do your job! Lazy! You’re all lazy!”

Coworker: “[Regular], stop! She’s not being lazy. She genuinely can’t move very well right now! I’ll make you your order. Just leave [My Name] alone now!”


She managed to push past my coworker and yank the chair out from under me. Of course, I was not prepared for this and landed hard on the floor, ripping half of my stitches and curling up in agony.

The rest of the scenario was a bit of a blur. My manager came out from the kitchen after hearing it escalate and kicked the regular out permanently for assaulting me. He called my mom to take me to the doctors to get my stitches redone; thankfully, I’d healed enough that it didn’t bleed too crazy but it was still pretty bad. My manager stayed with me and comforted me through the worst of the pain until she arrived, despite getting my blood on his chef uniform.

I was given plenty of morphine to help with the pain but I still had an extra week or two of recovery because of the regular being unreasonable. She tried to come back in to “apologise” but ended up having the police called on her. 

I’m recovering well now, though; thankfully, I didn’t need anything more to fix the damage she caused. I’ve learned either not to go in when I’m on medical leave or to go in full disguise at least, anyway.

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