Literally Chained To Your Desk

, , , , , , | Working | July 12, 2018

(It’s my last day of work; I am leaving to be a stay-at-home mom. I have been at this job for five years, so on my last few shifts I have had customers and family of coworkers coming in to say goodbye. I am on my lunch break, and one coworker and her husband come in. We are standing around talking about my toddlers, about me staying home, etc. After I while, I excuse myself to go clock back in. After doing so, I head back toward my register when I walk past them.)

Coworker’s Husband: “Get back to work!”

Me: *being a brat* “No, I don’t want to!”

(I stomp my foot like a small child, cross my arms, and whine.)

Husband: “Now, or else!”

Me: *evil grin* “Or what, I’ll be fired?”

Coworker: “I can see it now: [Manager] telling you just to go home now and never come back.”

Me: “Woohoo, I can start my summer early.”

Husband: “I never said ‘fire.’ If you don’t get back to work, you will never be allowed to leave; we will chain you to the till.”

(The manager is walking past and only hears about chaining me to till.)

Manager: “Now that would be a way to make her stay. Why didn’t I think of that? By the way, why are we chaining her?”

Me: “Because I don’t want to go back to work, we decided it would be a better punishment than firing me at this point.”

(He walks away laughing. I get back to work and finish my day. I have less than ten minutes left when my manager walks out, telling us he will be back in a minute. Thinking he’s going for a smoke, I don’t think anything of it. Next thing I know…)

Coworker #2: “What’s that for?”

(I look over to see my manager coming back in with chain he got from his truck.)

Manager: *with a really evil grin* “It’s a present for [My Name].”

(I almost die of laughter as he wraps it around me, talking to himself.)

Manager: “Now this goes around here… Oh, this should go up here! Now where should I hook it?”

(When it was said and done, he did manage to keep me for an extra ten minutes.)

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Unfiltered Story #116451

, | Unfiltered | July 12, 2018

(I am a bank teller. I live in a small city and each summer we hold a fair. My bank is the largest in the city so each summer we sell tickets for the fair, which brings us a range of customers we do not usually interact with. My teller directly faces the front door)

Me: Hi, I can help you here!

3 girls approach my teller. One has a rat perched on her shoulder. They are speaking a slavic language with each other

As I continue with their transaction I cannot help but be distracted with this rat. The 3 girls think nothing of it and chatter on. The rat is crawling around the girls shoulders, at one point is crawled down her chest under her shirt and later appeared at her neck. This rat was about the size of a large potato.

I fumble through the basic transaction.

Me: Okay, here you are. Have a lovely day!

(then I turn to my coworker)

Me: Did you notice that rat?!

Coworker: *laughs* you were so distracted with it! (He obvisouly also thought nothing about the rat that just strolled into the largest bank in the city perched on a young girl shoulder).

I am still in disbelief!

You Are A Child’s Plaything!

, , , , , | Friendly | June 29, 2018

(I share a yard with my neighbour, and since we both have kids the same age, we are normally playing outside at the same time. Their youngest daughter is three and really has taken a liking to me. One day we are out, and all the kids are playing except her. She is standing next to my chair watching me.)

Me: “Why don’t you go play, sweetheart? What’s your favourite toy out here?”

Three-Year-Old: *with the biggest smile you can imagine* “You!”

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Unfiltered Story #113862

, | Unfiltered | June 10, 2018

[I work at a locally-owned store known for having a large variety of cheeses. As I am at the register, I see two women and a young boy walk through the door]

Boy: Can I have a (brand of cheese that comes in bite-size wheels)?

Woman 1: No! We’re at (store name), I’m not using this gift certificate on something like a (small cheese)!

[Later on, the women and the boy come up to my till with their purchases, though I don’t recognize them right away. As I ring their items through I notice that their total comes to just under what their gift certificate is worth.]

Me: Would you like to buy something else so you’re not left with just a few cents on your gift card?

Woman 1: Well, what would you suggest?

Me: Well… probably the cheapest thing we have are the (small cheeses) over there. *Points*

[The two women start laughing, and I join in once I remember their earlier conversation.]

Me: Okay, can I send this story in to Not Always Right?

Woman 2: I love that site!

Me: I’ll take that as a yes!

Taking The Career Ladder To The Back

, , , | Right | April 30, 2018

(I am currently on maternity leave, but I need a few things from the dollar store, so I go to my work with my infant son. While wandering the aisles, I notice a little boy playing on one of the ladders. My coworker continually shoos him off of it, only for him to play on it the second she turns her back. Being fed up with the child’s behaviour and lack of supervision, I pick up the ladder and carry it to the back of the store, my son on my hip. About a minute later, I’m confronted by an old lady.)

Old Lady: “Why did you move the ladder? My grandson was playing on it and having fun! You shouldn’t touch things that aren’t yours!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I didn’t want to see your grandson get hurt, so I took it to the back.”

Old Lady: “I recognize you; you work here! Why aren’t you in uniform?! Why are you carrying around a baby instead of working?! Does your boss know that you’re playing nanny instead of working?!”

Me: “Ma’am, I usually do work here, yes, but I’m on maternity leave with my son. I’m not ‘nannying’ this baby; he’s my baby! Leave me alone!”

Old Lady: “You don’t get maternity leave! You have to have a real job in order to get maternity leave! Besides, I saw you a few months ago and you weren’t pregnant, liar! I bet you kidnapped that baby from some poor, deserving mother! Give him over!”

(I worked until my 38th week of pregnancy, and I was very visibly pregnant for a long time, enough so that people asked me if I was carrying multiples.)

Me: *holding my son closer and stepping back* “Leave me alone! Don’t touch my child!”

(My manager rushes over at the sound of me yelling, just in time to see the lady grab my son’s arm and pull hard on him to try to take him. This startles him, so he starts crying. I slap the lady’s arm away, and retreat back even further.)

Old Lady: *turning to manager* “Your employee assaulted me and kidnapped this child! Call the police!”

(She continued to try to grab my son, so I went to hide in the back room, where my manager stopped her from following me. She stood outside the back room doors for about ten minutes before the police showed up and took her away. My son was okay, but had a nasty bruise on his arm for about a week from her grabbing him!)

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