Unfiltered Story #150943

, , , | | Unfiltered | May 14, 2019

(I work in a small ice cream shop. It’s about 10 minutes from closing when a car pulls into our lot, doesn’t even park in a spot, but just stops the car in the middle of the lot. The customer walks up to the window)
Female Coworker: Hello! What can I get for you?
Customer: I need 6 large [ice cream flavor]
Female Coworker: Sure! That’ll be [price].
Customer: *hands money over* Oh, and make sure to wear gloves when making my cones. I don’t want your dirty dark skin touching my cones.
(My female coworker is Caucasian, but has a tan that makes her seem darker. She asks a male coworker and I to make the cones, because she doesn’t want to deal with the customer. We use napkins to grab the cones, which we do anyway, and give them to the customer, after receiving all 6, they get angry)
Customer: You didn’t wear gloves while making my cones! I demand new ones!*throws the cones in the garbage can*
(Male Coworker and I are also Caucasian and have no tans, but we make her new ones anyways. This time with gloves)
Customer: Im never getting my ice cream here again! The service was horrible!
(The customer walks to their car with the cones)
Male Coworker: I hope she drops her cone. Im not making her a new one.
(As if on cue, she drops one of her cones. She comes back up to the window and demands another cone and a refund, but we refuse and close the window so we cannot hear her. She pounds on the window till we open it and say we will call the cops if she doesn’t leave.)

Operation Fake Cry

, , , , | | Legal | May 9, 2019

(Our house is extremely popular with phone marketers, scammers, etc. On this particular day, my dad is in the hospital undergoing surgery to have a pacemaker installed for having extreme brachycardia. He’s “died” a lot over the years to the point where my sister and I just kind of got over it as it was a regular occurrence. I’m at home when I get a phone call. The number is local and I assume it’s a friend of the family calling to inquire about my dad.)

Me: “Hello.”

Telemarketer: “Hi, I was calling to inquire about whether [Father] would be interested in purchasing one of our cemetery plots.”

(Knowing this is a scam, I put on some fake waterworks.)

Me: “Do you mean my dad didn’t survive the surgery? Oh, my God! Nobody told me anything! I know his heart was weak, but they said he would make it through no problem!”

(I begin to sob, and I can tell the person at the other end is extremely uncomfortable.)

Telemarketer: “I am so sorry; we had no idea about the situation. I can call back at another less delicate time.”

Me: “MY DAD JUST DIED AND ALL YOU CARE ABOUT IS A SALE!”

(They ended up hanging up and we never received another call from them again. It’s been about five years now since that surgery and we haven’t needed that plot yet. I get that it is nice to prepare ahead, but the timing of it all was just too much.)

Same House, Different Animal Planets

, , , , , | | Related | May 2, 2019

(When I am a teenager and my youngest sister is four or five, she comes into the living room and joins me while I am watching a TV movie about real-life sextuplets. When it gets to the scene where the babies are being delivered, I think she might be confused about why everyone on screen is so anxious and, being the wise older sister, I decide I’d better explain in terms she can understand.)

Me: “See, babies are normally in their mommy’s tummy for nine months—“

Sister: *interrupting, perfectly nonchalant* “Oh, that’s their gestation period?”

(The only explanation I could come up with for where she heard that was a show she loved on Animal Planet about baby animals. I shouldn’t be surprised she grew up to become a nurse.)

They’re Out For Blood

, , , , , | Friendly | April 30, 2019

I am a single woman who doesn’t date. I have a high platelet count, so I donate platelets regularly. Ninety-nine percent of the time, it goes perfectly smoothly, but one time, I unintentionally move my arm, causing the needle to slide out of the vein and blood to go where it shouldn’t go under my skin. They unhook me and bandage me up with no harm done… at the time.

By the next day, a huge part of my arm is black and blue. For the next several days, every time a coworker sees me in short sleeves for the first time since it happened, I have to watch them gasp in horror and ask who’s beating me up, then explain I don’t have an abusive boyfriend or family member, I wasn’t mugged, and I didn’t fall down any stairs. It gets very tedious after the first three times.

I have never moved my arm again while donating blood or platelets.

More Than A Nugget Of Entitlement

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

(I am in line at a popular fast food restaurant drive-thru when this occurs. The woman driving the SUV in front of me places her order.)

Customer: “[Several value meals plus drinks], and one chicken nugget.”

Employee: “And what size chicken nuggets meal would you like?”

Customer: “Not a meal. Just one chicken nugget.”

Employee: “Okay, no meal, but what size? They come in orders of five, ten, and twenty nuggets.”

Customer: “I only want one nugget.”

Employee: “Please pull forward.”

(After pulling to the window…)

Employee: “I’m sorry, ma’am, we only sell nuggets in five, ten, or twenty sizes.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous! I demand to speak to a manager.”

(When the manager tells her the same thing, this angry woman spends the next five minutes giving him an earful because he will not sell her a single chicken nugget, before paying for the rest of her order and driving off in a huff.)

Me: *after pulling up to the window* “Did she really just scream at you for five minutes because she wanted one single nugget instead of paying $1.50 for five?”

Manager: “Yes, she did.”

Me: “Did you see she was driving a Cadillac Escalade?”

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