Unfiltered Story #91894

, | Unfiltered | August 19, 2017

(Quick backstory: the store I work at has had immense issues with corporate, and we are waiting on them, and have been, for over a month for many things. We can’t physically sell the things people order online before we get them. My normal manager is out this week and in her place is a spineless assistant manager. I’m 19 and am only working for the summer, yet am practically in charge because of the incompetencey)

Customer: I’ve been waiting two weeks for my shirts, where are they?!
Me: I’m so sorry about that ma’am, do you possibly have your order number so I can look that up?
Customer: *rudely* no, you should have it in the system.
Me: …ok ma’am, can I have your name please?
*glares at me LIKE I SOMEHOW SHOULD BE ABLE TO GUESS HER NAME and writes it down. I take it back to the manager, and we search her up, and the system says her stuff shipped on Monday. I go back out.*
Me: So our system says it shipped on Friday, so hopefully you should see those in about a week.
Customer: Can I get a shipping number?
Me: Absolutely!
*go back again, manager says that she doesn’t have one so maybe we “shipped” it after the mail came on Friday, and the mail guy didn’t come again until today*
Me: So my manager says that even though our system says it shipped on Friday, it is possible that it didn’t actually leave until today, which is why she can’t find a tracking number, if you want—
Customer: I KNEW IT, I KNEW you wern’t telling me the truth, get me someoneone who will actually tell the truth!
*my manager comes out next to me and literally repeats everything I just said, while I’m standing next to her*
Customer: I could tell the way she *flips hand at me* was looking at me that she was lying, that she wasn’t telling the truth. Thank you for telling me the truth.
*she leaves and the manager goes in the back again, yelling a quick “sorry” to me. I don’t know what planet she had to be on to think that a 19 year old would be hiding and lying about her shirts, and then the fact that my manager did nothing to stand up for me, I almost quit*

He’s Really ‘App-y To See You

| Finland | Romantic | March 2, 2016

(We’re out shopping. I don’t realize that my husband has his tablet with him until he takes it out of his pocket to look something up.)

Me: “How do you fit that in your pants?”

Husband: “What? It’s only seven inches!”

Until Undeath Do Us Part, Part 52

| Sonoma County, CA, USA | Romantic | September 24, 2015

Me: *in a sappy voice* “You love me. And you’ll always love me.”

Husband: “Yep.”

Me: “You’re always going to love me.” *in a creepier voice* “No matter what…”

Husband: “Uh… yep.”

Me: “Even if I turn into a zombie.”

Husband: “Well, I’d still love you, but I might have to bash your head in.”

Till Undeath Do Us Part, Part 51
Till Undeath Do Us Part, Part 50
Till Undeath Do Us Part, Part 49

Not Impressed With Who You’re Trying To Impress

| CT, USA | Related | July 6, 2015

(I overheard this gem while shopping; I’m assuming it’s a father and daughter.)

Dad: “You don’t need all this makeup. You’re beautiful the way you are and whoever he is will like you regardless.”

Daughter: “Excuse me? I do not wear makeup to impress boys. How can you say that?”

Dad: “Come on, it’s a well-known fact that girls wear makeup to hide how basic and average they are. But you don’t need that; you have natural beauty.”

Daughter: “Believe it or not, women do wear makeup for themselves. They don’t do it just for other’s satisfaction. Besides, most men will jump on anything that has tits and a vagina; girls though, have higher standards.”

Dad: “…”

Daughter: “I’m trying to impress a girl.”

Dad: “…”

Daughter: “At some point you’re going to have to accept that I’m a lesbian.”

Dad: “Did someone say we needed milk?”

Thanks For Nothing

| OH, USA | Related | June 18, 2015

(My mom and I are leaving a store and are on our way to my cousin’s baby shower. We are almost to the car when this happened:)

Mom: “Thank you.”

Me: “You’re welcome.” *realizing that I hadn’t done or said anything to prompt a thank you* “Umm… what are you welcome for?”

Mom: “I don’t know. I was hoping you weren’t going to ask.”

(We couldn’t leave for another five minutes because we were laughing too hard.)

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