Mothers In Disguise

| OH, USA | Right | April 28, 2014

(I am shopping to get some polos for my mom and my little brother, who are at a concert. I am a 20-year-old woman; however, my voice makes me sound younger. I also love a particular robot franchise. I am searching the toy aisle for a figure that I don’t have, when I approach another customer in the aisle.)

Customer: *huffs, turns to her husband* “Look at her. Can’t keep them together.”

Me: *looks at her*

Customer: “Yes, I am talking about you! You shouldn’t be having children at your age!”

Me: “What?”

Customer: “And how can you afford to spoil your kid? You can’t get a decent job like that!”

Me: *realizing what she is implying* “Actually, I can spoil my kids.” *reaches into my shopping basket to pull out a can of cat treats* “See?”

Customer: *crosses her arms*

Me: “This…” *pulls a buildable figure off the rack* “…is for me.”

Customer: “So immature!”

(I am used to getting criticism for liking the robot franchise, which is aimed at younger boys.)

Me: *shrugs* “So?

(Just then, the woman’s son peers from another aisle.)

Customer’s Son: “Mommy, I can’t find them with the Legos.” *looks at me* “Is that [Character]?”

Me: “Yes, it is!”

Customer’s Son: “That’s the one I want!”

Customer: *turns to face away*

Me: *kneels down to hand it to her son* “Do you have [Other Character]? He goes with [Character].”

Customer’s Son: “Really?”

Me: “Yep! They and [Third Character] make a group known as a trine. They’re best together.”

(The woman’s husband grabs the other character’s box as the woman sulks away.)

Customer’s Son: “Thank you! Sorry Mommy was mean. She said [Franchise] is for little kids and I’m a big boy, but now I know it’s for big girls, too!”

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In Soviet Russia, Language Speaks You

| Paramus, NJ, USA | Working | April 28, 2014

(My mother and I are walking around the local mall to do some window shopping. It’s the holiday season, so kiosk employees are being particularly pushy.)

Kiosk Worker: “Ladies! Can I interest you in some hair products today? You, little lady, step up here! Just let me show you something!”

Me: “No, thank you.” *in Russian, to my mother* “I swear they get pushier every single year.”

Kiosk Worker: *also in Russian* “Come on ladies, please?”

Mom: “Now they speak our language, too?! Let’s get out of here!”

Unlucky In Cards

| USA | Working | April 28, 2014

(I work at a card store that always has a card of the week on display at the register, as a way to single out pricier cards that we like. On this occasion, it is a card with a scrawny kid on it who flexes his non-existent muscles when you tilted the card. A couple walks up to the register.)

Girl: “Oh, hey, this looks like you!” *laughs*

Guy: “Shut up. No, it doesn’t.”

Girl: “Yeah, it does! *still laughing*

Guy: “No way!”

Girl: “Yes way!” *turns to me* “Tell him!”

Guy: “You don’t really think this looks like me, do you?!”

(Since they were fun and clearly being good-natured, I wanted to play along, but wasn’t sure whose side to play along with. I figured I’d take the middle road and let them play it out from there. What I ended up actually saying…)

Me: “Well, I mean, you’re both really masculine…”

(The girl and guy both stop laughing and stare awkwardly at me.)

Me: “I mean… umm… your total is $5.32?”

Gotta Hand It To Him

| Campbellton, NB, USA | Right | April 26, 2014

(There is a really creepy guy who comes into our store almost every day. He usually just chats with the female staff, telling us all how sexy we are and inviting us over for coffee, and is generally harmless. One day near Halloween I am on a ladder stocking a shelf when I feel someone rubbing my backside. I jump, nearly falling off my ladder, and turned around in time to see the creepy customer, smiling strangely at me.)

Me: “Excuse me. Did you just touch my bottom?”

Customer: “Who, me? No. No, not me.”

Me: “I’m sure someone just touched me, and you were right there. Did you see who it might have been?”

(The customer then holds up a rubber decorative hand from the Halloween department and looks me dead in the eye.)

Customer: “It was him… I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT! IT WAS THE HAND! Unless you liked it…” *winks at me* “…then it was me.”

(He walks out holding the fake hand above his head, the whole time shouting to nobody in particular.)

Customer: “It was the hand! Not me, but the hand! Come over for coffee and see what my hand can do!

(We didn’t even bother to stop him from walking out without paying for it. The $2 just wasn’t worth it.)

Gives New Meaning To Bag Of Tricks

| Hervey Bay, QLD, Australia | Right | April 25, 2014

(I am near the end of a very long shift. A customer comes up so I put my closed sign up. He seems a bit unusual and smells like alcohol but I treated him like any other customer.)

Me: “Hi. How are you today, sir?”

Customer: “Good, thanks.”

(My coworker comes over and tells me to make sure I check his bags at the end of the transaction. I get to the end of the transaction.)

Me: “All right, sir. Here is your change and I just have to check your bags.”

Customer: “Oh, sure, yeah.” *opens bag*

Me: “Yep, that’s okay. Have a great day, sir.”

Customer: “Yeah. Next time I will put some naughty stuff in there for you like condoms and vibrators.”

Me: “… Okay, sir. Have a good day.”

(He left and I told my supervisor. One of my coworkers heard me and told me he has said something like that to her before. She said he bought paw-paw ointment. She asked if he wanted a bag and he said no, that he was going to use it later while he was thinking of her. He is now banned from the store.)

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