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A collection of stories curated from different subreddits, adapted for NAR.

You Want Sa-mo-son? (Sorry, That Was Bad)

, , , , , | Right | CREDIT: islandfool | July 9, 2021

My company delivers food for local restaurants. We’re a small company; we pay good salaries, social insurance, etc. Our most popular places are pizza joints, but today, this ABSOLUTE GEM of a human ordered from an Indian restaurant. He demanded free samosas and threatened to cancel his order if he didn’t get them. Naturally, the Indian place said no. He bombed me with so many emails, calling me a whore, saying that Indians are useless, calling the restaurant staff racial slurs, and so on.

After I told him they said no the first time, he ordered again an hour later with a note, and the following exchange of emails ensues.

Customer: “Hi. Need free samosas or please cancel, thanks.”

Me: “You’re still not getting free samosas, and I’ve declined your order as requested.”

Customer: “Tell those rude, ignorant little f*****s that they don’t get many customers these days, so they should be f****** grateful! If not, I won’t order again, [slur] scum! And please deliver my message exactly like that.”

Me: “Hi, [Customer]. I absolutely will not be relaying your racist messages to them. In fact, I have sent out my whole flock of messenger pigeons to gather my army of Indian and Pakistani warriors, and tonight we shall feast on samosas in your honor. Have a great evening. [My Name].”

I deleted his account and told him not to contact us again. He was the first customer I’ve ever banned. Also, we’re in Thailand, so the owner of the restaurant is Thai and all of the staff are Thai and Burmese. Now, I’m just hoping that he posts a review somewhere so I can screenshot all of his racist bulls***.

Bare Midriffs And Bad Management

, , , , , , | Working | CREDIT: kitherarin | July 8, 2021

Many, many years ago, I worked in a small coffee shop on a university campus. Work was great and we had fun and loved the owners. Unfortunately, after I’d worked there for two years, they retired.

The new owner came in and put up multiple cameras — like eight in a three-meter-by-ten-meter coffee shop with all the cameras trained on the counter and staff areas. He started to proposition the girls — we were all university students, so seventeen to twenty-one years old — that they would get extra shifts if they went home with him. If you argued back, then you got your work hours cut down to the bare minimum.

Our uniform was just a loose black polo shirt with the cafe logo, black pants, and closed shoes — standard coffee shop staff attire. A couple of months in, the new owner decided that the uniform would change, but only for the girls.

Now the girls would wear a midriff top with the cafe logo and low-rise pants. The boys still got to wear the old uniform. We argued that it was unsafe — hot coffee and plates of food next to bare skin — and got told too bad, so sad. Staff got together and hashed out a plan.

On the first day of the new uniform, the girls showed up in the old uniform. The boys showed up in the midriff tops and the low-rise pants.

The new uniform policy lasted an hour. The boss was not impressed.

No one lost their job because our coffee shop was right next to the law faculty. One of the students had already had a conversation with her lecturer about what was going on. I’m pretty sure that if we’d been fired for non-compliance with uniform, that the boss would have found himself in far more trouble.

What Do You Want On Your Tombstone?

, , , , | Right | CREDIT: jcstan05 | July 8, 2021

I am a headstone designer. Years ago, a gentleman came to the shop looking to buy a grave marker for himself. He was in good health; he was just getting his affairs in order. Ordering a headstone pre-need is a good decision for a few reasons, including the fact that you can choose what goes on it.

Our client wanted us to engrave something pretty crude. I can’t remember the exact phrasing, but it included an F-word and would definitely cause some backlash in my small town. The cemetery, not surprisingly, rejected our proposal. I’m willing to engrave whatever my client wants on a stone, but we’re constrained by the graveyard’s regulation: no inappropriate images or wording should appear on the memorial. Bummer.

We found a workaround: we engraved the scandalous epitaph on the bottom side of the stone. That way, nobody had to know what was under there, and my customer “could read it and laugh for all eternity.”

Cheesed Off At The Checkout

, , , | Right | CREDIT: Platypugg | July 8, 2021

I work in a health food store. One day, I am at my register on a semi-busy day and a man comes through. He’s on his phone so he’s kind of ignoring me, a tad rude, but nothing terrible. He buys some cheese and some other things and goes on his merry way. I think he is one of the many faces I will never recognize again. Right? Story over?


A few minutes go by. I am now helping another person, and suddenly, I hear the feared throat-clearing sound next to me. I have a moment of panic as I turn to face him. He’s still on the phone. Before I have a single second to reply, he shoves the cheese in my face (breaking social distancing rules), pointing to it, screaming.

Customer: “There is mold! Here, here, and here!”

And then he throws it directly in my face and storms off before he has to deal with the repercussions of his actions, like a real adult.

The woman who is at my till looks at me for a moment, concerned.

Customer #2: “Are you okay?”

Me: “That’s just one of the perks of being a cashier.”

Soccer Is Always Bloodiest When Parents Get Involved

, , , , | Healthy | CREDIT: xylophoneplayer88 | July 8, 2021

When I am about eleven or twelve years old, I play for a local girls’ football/soccer team as the goalie. We play on a field not far from my house for home games.

We go up against another local team in the county tournament. This team has a girl on it whose mother is a known problem. She’ll scream if her daughter is so much as touched and has been known to be threatening to both parents and players. [Girl] is lovely, and we actually know each other from school. There is a friendly sort of rivalry between us.

About halfway through the first half, [Girl] comes at the goal and we end up both going for the ball at the same time. Her foot connects hard with my ankle and I immediately know it is broken. [Girl] apparently heard the break, and helps me to the ground, yelling for help. When I look down, my foot is at a very strange angle.

Both coaches help me off the pitch, [Girl] beside me holding my hand, both of us crying. Other players are gathering round, but the coaches tell them to step back and give me some space. My parents appear and sit with me while my team’s coach calls for an ambulance.

[Girl]’s mum appears. I hear her before I see her.

Girl’s Mum: “What’s going on? [Girl], get back on the field.”

Girl: “Mum, I broke [My Name]’s ankle. I want to stay with her. I’ll be red-carded, anyway.”

Usually, if there’s a foul you get a yellow card, and two yellow cards cause you to be red-carded and sent off. However, if a foul is particularly bad or causes serious injury, you’re red-carded straight away.

Girl’s Mum: “Red-carded?! Why, because she didn’t get out of the way in time?”

My Mum: “No, because it happened. I don’t think [Girl] meant for it to happen, but it still did.”

Girl’s Mum: “Well, I think your daughter did this on purpose to make [Girl] look bad. I bet she’s faking it.”

I’m still crying and in too much pain for patience.

Me: “If you think I can make my ankle bend like that myself, then you’re stupid.”

Girl’s Mum: “How dare you?!” *Turns to the coach* “I want the police here, too, for defamation of my daughter’s character.”

The referee comes over to check how I am and to let [Girl] know that, as she thought, she’s red-carded. [Girl] doesn’t seem to care, but her mother explodes.

Girl’s Mum: “You can’t red-card my daughter. Red-card that little b****. In fact, ban her from the game! She’s putting it on on purpose. Look!”

She kicks my ankle. It’s not hard, but it still causes me agony because of the break. I scream, and my mum jumps up to take the woman on. The other team’s coach has to get between them to stop a fight.

An ambulance shows up during this, and the paramedics come to help me. They manage to get both [Girl] and me laughing and help to secure my ankle so as not to cause more injury. My dad tells them about what [Girl]’s mum did, and one of the paramedics shakes her head.

Paramedic: “You can’t help stupid, I guess.”

The police also showed up while I was being sorted out. I didn’t see this part but was told about it by other players later. [Girl]’s mum started yelling that my mum and I should be arrested for defamation. However, after the police were told by several witnesses what had happened, [Girl]’s mum was arrested for assault.

I was taken to the hospital in the ambulance, my mum riding with me and my dad driving the family car. It turned out that I had a break in two places in my ankle. I have a strong suspicion that one of the breaks was the result of [Girl]’s mum’s kick, though that couldn’t be proven.

I had to wear a cast for six weeks and missed a week of school. [Girl] and other members of both teams came to visit me at home in the following days.

[Girl]’s mother was cautioned and released but was issued with a lifetime touchline ban by the team’s coach. She apparently tried to show up at a couple of games, but other parents made her leave again. Thankfully, [Girl] is still lovely, and we remain friends to this day.

This story is part of our Best Of July 2021 roundup!

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Read the Best Of July 2021 roundup!