Right Working Romantic Related Learning Friendly Healthy Legal Inspirational Unfiltered
A collection of stories curated from different subreddits, adapted for NAR.

The Wrath Of The Lunch Lady Scorned

, , , , , , , | Learning | CREDIT: BraxHecker | September 6, 2021

I am sixteen and I have type-one diabetes. I have been diagnosed for a bit more than a year and a half. I’ve kept good control over it and the doctors are always impressed when I have a checkup.

I take insulin ten to fifteen minutes before I eat so it has time to take effect. With the school lunch, there are two options: a chicken salad and a cheeseburger. I decide to go with the cheeseburger. I take my insulin and go up the line. I grab a to-go box, but before I take two steps:

Friend: “Wait, that’s a salad.”

I set the box back down and go to grab a different box, but the lunch lady shouts at me.

Lunch Lady: “Hey, don’t you dare!”

I look at her and she looks at me like I just slapped a puppy in the face.

Me: “What’s wrong?”

Lunch Lady: “You already grabbed the salad, so you have to take the salad.”

Me: “But I haven’t even opened it. I’m a diabetic and I already took insulin.”

She shakes her head.

Lunch Lady: *Sickly sweet* “I’m sorry, that’s not my problem. Take the salad and go sit down now!”

Me: “But I’m a diabetic, and—”

Lunch Lady: “Take the salad or you don’t get anything.”

I’m a little pissed at this point so I take the salad and go off to my table with my friends and tell them the situation. They removed the vending machines in the cafeteria over the summer so there is no way for me to get the correct amount of carbs without stealing another kid’s cheeseburger. One of my friends tells me I should go get the principal quickly before the insulting fully sets in.

I go to the office and tell him and the counselor the situation, a little panicked because it has been well over ten minutes since I took insulin. The principal walks me back up to the cafeteria.

Principal: “[Lunch Lady], give him the cheeseburger. He really needs it.”

Lunch Lady: “But he already took a salad. He can deal with it.”

The principal just sighs, grabs the cheeseburger box, and shoves it into my hands and tells me to go sit down. I sit relatively close to the lunch line so my friends and I can hear the principal.

Principal: “How you acted was truly out of line. I thought you understood to treat students’ health situations with care and understanding.”

He told her off for another minute before heading back to his office, and I got to eat my lunch in peace. Maybe she’ll know better next time.

Putting The “Stress” In “Seamstress”

, , , , | Right | CREDIT: CyborgKnitter | September 5, 2021

I’m a disabled seamstress. I had to quit working at thirty years old due to a health condition that causes fatigue and extreme pain. I got hosed on disability and live on $900 a month now.

My mom — a seamstress who used to make wedding gowns — taught me how to sew as a kid and I love it. It’s awesome getting to make things exactly how you want them. But my screwed-up nerves aren’t as fond of sewing. It can cause a good deal of pain if I sew for too long.

When the health crisis hits and they announce that fabric masks help, I say f*** the pain; it’s worth it. I begin pumping out masks for family, friends, and some neighbors. I give away the first thirty but start running out of the right supplies, and with money being so tight, I can’t afford more. I ask people to donate $2 per mask if they are financially able to. Some people give more, including my amazing, super sweet neighbor.

[Neighbor] begins asking if I can make masks for her coworkers, and she takes them and mails them for me. Then, one day, [Neighbor] texts me.

Neighbor: “Would you be able to make 100 masks for a company? Someone who ended up with one of your masks loved it and owns a company with about 100 employees. He wants to give each employee a mask.”

The business owner texts me to ask about the order.

Me: “Sure, I can do it. It’ll take me a week or two as I work solo and am disabled. I’d want $5 per mask, as this order is a huge one.”

Many mask sellers on homemade goods sites were charging upwards of $20 PER MASK, so my $5 was dirt cheap.

In the end, the business owner ghosted me. My neighbor finally got her friend — the business owner’s wife — to admit that he found it ridiculous he was being charged more for a big order. The guy wanted them for $1 EACH, and he felt that four days should be sufficient to sew them all. That would have meant killing myself, barely sleeping, and landing myself in a wheelchair for weeks while I recovered, all for the privilege of LOSING $100 on the order. It was heavily implied that as I’m disabled, I should have been grateful he was willing to pay at all.

By now I’m far more aware of what my services are worth. I’ll never again consider a large order without both a slight markup and ample time. It’s simply not worth it!

She Could’ve At Least Asked First

, , , | Healthy | CREDIT: Margali | September 5, 2021

I was leaving a doctor’s appointment and my ride arrived, so I stood up and propped myself on the outside of the seat while I was getting ready to fold my wheelchair. A woman ran up and tried to wheel it away — great brakes on my chair — and I had to struggle with her while my driver got out and came to help me.

Woman: *Whining* “But I need this chair for my mom! She’s aged! And this chair is so much nicer and cleaner than the other chairs around here!”

We had to get the guard involved. I could understand if it was a generic wheelchair in basic aluminum, but I guess she didn’t understand that the hospital didn’t have royal purple wheelchairs with cup holders, cane holders, and a chair bag.

What’s The Name Of Your Boutique, So We Can Never, Ever Go There?

, , , | Right | CREDIT: Iamthemeltingpot | September 4, 2021

I work in a thrift store that supports a women’s center. A couple of months ago, I was closing with three other people. I was making my rounds around the clothing racks, fixing hangers and whatnot. A lady came up to me.

Customer: “Are you ready to go home?”

Me: *Laughs* “Yes, but we still have an hour and a half to go.”

Customer: “I love shopping, and I won’t be leaving until I’m done!”

I looked at my coworker, thinking, “WTF?” The lady got upset.

Customer: “Don’t you roll your eyes at me. You have no idea who you’re messing with. I’m really crazy!”

Me: “Okay.”

And I walked away.

Fast forward to closing time. There were two people still in the store: the lady and her friend, who was super embarrassed. Apparently, she had been going on and on about how disrespectful we were and that she was going to stay late.

At our store, we give fifteen-minute, five-minute, and closing announcements, so she knew we were closing. She was still in the dressing room with a buggy filled with clothes she was trying on one by one. We don’t mind when the odd person is late, usually five to ten minutes if they have a lot of stuff. But this lady had been cursing us up and down while in the dressing room to the point that our regulars warned us. Her friend had me ring her stuff up while we waited for the rude lady, and she was apologizing the whole time.

One of my coworkers had kids that she needed to pick up, so of course, we were talking about it. At fifteen minutes past closing, she said, “F*** it,” and left. At the twenty-minute mark, the crazy lady finally came out, cussing us out.

Customer: “You are so unprofessional! I own a boutique and I would never drive out customers because I want their money! I know the owner here and I will tell him about your behavior.”

I added her stuff to the order, which of course, the friend paid for. Then, she dropped the bomb. In order to punish the coworker that left, she dumped all the clothes she didn’t want and their hangers on the ground. It took us ten minutes to pick everything up.

My coworker said that we should have her trespassed from the property, which, of course, caused her to change her tune.

The best part is that she took so long that her ride left with her phone, so she had to borrow the keyholder’s phone to call for a ride. She was still waiting outside while we were leaving.

The Eternal Torment Of Waiting In Line

, , , , | Right | CREDIT: kxtlyn13 | September 4, 2021

When I am around seven years old, my family goes to a popular theme park for my sister’s tenth birthday. Since it is summertime, it is boiling hot; that’s California for you. We go to the log rides to cool ourselves off and a stranger cuts in front of us in line.

Dad: “Hey, what are you doing? We’ve been waiting in line for twenty minutes!”

Stranger: “I’m going to overheat! I deserve this spot more than you!”

Mom: “Ma’am, you can wait in line like everybody else. Just because you’re hot, it doesn’t mean you get to cut in front of everybody.”

A kind worker comes over.

Worker: “What is going on?”

Mom: “This woman cut u—”

Stranger: *Cutting her off* “THEY CUT ME!”

Dad: “Ma’am, I’m pretty sure you did.”

Stranger: “HE’S LYING! I GOT THIS SPOT FAIR AND SQUARE!”

Worker: “I’ll go check the surveillance.”

He comes back and looks at the EP.

Worker: “Miss, according to the surveillance, you cut them out of nowhere. I’m going to have to ask you to go to the back or leave.”

Stranger: “What?! That’s not fair!”

Worker: “If you’re not going to go to the back of the line, I’ll have to call security to ban you. You’re being a bother to everybody else.”

The woman scoffs, rolling her eyes as she leaves. But she doesn’t leave in silence.

Stranger: “YOU ALL DESERVE TO BURN IN H***!”

Then, she left the line and the place entirely; we didn’t see her anywhere else in the park.