Got Milk And Homophobia

, , , , , , | Friendly | July 26, 2018

(I work as a clerk at a grocery store and I am currently serving a short boy — around 5’2” — with a turtleneck and longish hair; he looks rather girlish.)

Man: *behind him* “C’mon, girly. I’ve got places to be.”

Boy: *looking like he’s had to say this a thousand times* “I’m a boy.”

(He continues unloading his full cart rather quickly. After about a minute, the guy decides to speak up again.)

Man: “Come on, you f****** [homophobic slur]; you’re going way too slow!”

(I’m rather surprised by this, but the boy almost grins. There’s a large man who I’d seen him send back a moment ago coming back. He’s a good 6’2” and covered in tattoos.)

Larger Man: “I got the milk!”

(He says this like he’s nine, and it’s kind of adorable. The smaller one looks at him and mutters something.)

Larger Man: *looking down at the rude man, kind demeanor suddenly completely gone*  “I will beat the everloving s*** out of you if you say one more word to my boyfriend.”

(The look on the guy’s face as they finished checking out almost killed me. And don’t worry; I had to card both of them for their beer, and the small guy was 23.)

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Stealing Pet Food Is A Pet Project

, , , , , | Friendly | July 25, 2018

(I am at the grocery store, stocking up on some beef ribs that are on clearance after the 4th of July for very reasonable prices, as well as pet food for the various critters under my care. I’ve just about finished with my shopping, and I decide to grab some already-made french fries from a fast food place within the grocery store. You are required to leave your cart by the entryway when you enter the restaurant. I am the only one there, and there are no other carts near mine. Fries in hand, I turn around to find a little old lady marching off with my cart.)

Me: “Excuse me! That’s my cart!”

Lady: *no response*

Me: *catches up to her* “HEY! You’ve taken my cart! That’s not your cart!”

(The lady just gives me an odd look and continues walking off.)

Me: “LADY! Those aren’t your groceries! They’re mine! Give them back!”

Lady: *in a quiet voice* “Leave me alone. I just want to do my shopping.”

Me: “What do you think I was doing?” *tries to take my cart back, only to see her tense and grip the cart even tighter* “You know, taking someone else’s cart is extremely rude!”

Lady: *still speaking in a quiet voice* “Leave me alone. These are my groceries.”

(In the basket, there are only two racks of ribs and a container of cottage cheese, while the rest of the cart is filled with pet supplies for parrots, cats, mice, and reptiles.)

Me: “No, they’re mine. You stole them from me. I had my cart parked right over there while I was getting my fries.”

(I point over to the fast food place while holding up my french fries. She looks over to where I’m pointing and frowns, then looks at me.)

Lady: “Young lady, you need to leave me alone. I’ve asked you multiple times now.”

(I try to take my cart back, only to find it still in her death grip. At this point I simply sigh and let the cart go, as I’m not in the mood to be accused of battery of a little old lady… and at this point, she looks scared of me.)

Me: “Fine, whatever. Keep them. It’s not worth this much trouble. I hope you like eating cat food, you old bat.”

(I grabbed another cart and just re-did my shopping. I hadn’t paid for them, so there wasn’t any money lost during this, and she didn’t become “rude” or angry. I simply wanted to go home. When I relayed the story to my father, he was convinced the lady had dementia. “Who steals someone’s groceries? That’s not normal behavior… Something was off.” After this website, I’m not so sure.)

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Another Titillating Tuesday

, , , , , | Friendly | July 24, 2018

(My husband tells me this story about a friend of his and her dad doing a painting job downtown, repainting the outside of a store front. As they are working, two women come walking down the street, hand in hand, without a stitch of clothing on.)

Friend: *to Dad* “Don’t. Say. Anything.”

(As they walk by, the dad says to the two women:)

Dad: “So, what’s the occasion?”

Ladies: *shrugging* “It’s Tuesday.”

(They continued on their way.)

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Reunion Confusion

, , , , , , , | Related | July 24, 2018

My family had a reunion back in the days before cars came with GPS and before cell phones were common. My aunt went out as far through the family tree as she could, with instructions to forward the information and invitation to anyone that she may have missed, so we had over a hundred people at the event.

Because not everyone had been to my aunt’s house before, and no one had GPS in their cars, she and her husband put massive signs reading “[Family Name] Family Reunion” with arrows throughout her town, from pretty much as soon as you get off the highway.

My great-uncle is obsessed with the family tree, and tried to sit down with everyone to get as much information as he could from each person, so he could work on completing it. He’d been sitting with one man for nearly twenty minutes, before suddenly bursting out laughing. The man and his son came to the wrong family reunion.

Apparently, they had been on their way to a family reunion for the son’s deceased mother’s side of the family. The last name was phonetically similar to our family’s — although spelled slightly differently — and the man hadn’t been close with his wife’s family, so he didn’t realize that the reason he didn’t recognize anyone was because there was no one there to recognize.

The man was very embarrassed about the mistake, but he and his son were so friendly that we invited them to stay the rest of the day, as well. They couldn’t, since they wanted to keep going to their proper reunion, but we’ve kept in touch with them to this day, and still call them honorary family members.

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Pulled The Rug Out From Under Them

, , , , , | Friendly | July 23, 2018

(I have just purchased an outdoor area rug. I wheel it out to my Kia Soul and am just opening the hatch when I hear a loud, mocking voice say:)

Person: “She doesn’t really think she’s going to get that in that dinky car; does she?”

(I can see that the couple has stopped their car to watch with amused expressions. Without seeming to notice them, I tip the rug from the cart, get a grip on it, say loudly:)

Me: “Yes, she does!”

(And then I tossed the rug in, where it fit perfectly. The mocking couple were slack-jawed and stunned. I admit it; that felt wonderful!)

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