You Shall Not Pass!

| Austria | Right | January 21, 2016

(A local couple has come up with a “smart” trick how to speed up the waiting time during the rush hours when paying in the supermarket. She will grab something trivial and dash for the checkout and queue while he does the shopping, then finally pushes to the front with his loaded cart, saying “my wife is already there.” They are pretty well known (and loathed, not only for this), and since she is in front of me, I know what is coming up behind me eventually, especially since she is more focused on what’s behind her than actually going for the checkout. A minute later…)

Husband: “Excuse me? That’s my wife.”

Me: *turning around, beaming at him* “Good for you, congratulations!” *turning back around*

Husband: “Let me pass. She’s waiting for me!”

Me: “Oh, you’re such a lovely couple. Of course she’ll wait for you ’til IT IS YOUR TURN!”

Husband: “But she’s been queuing for us!”

Me: “No, she’s been queuing for her yogurt.”

(I let him rant and rave about how I MUST let him pass for his wife is waiting. By now she’s started to chime in and I get berated in stereo. Then he suddenly backs up a little and rams his cart into my heel.)

Me: “Hey! Stop that!”

Husband: “No! Let me pass!”

(He backs up again to hit me with the cart again and, as this clearly took me by surprise, I just so happen to jump when the cart hits me, and, clumsy me, I land right inside the cart, crushing eggs and other perishables in my fall. And if I hadn’t first seen that those eggs have being hidden under something that could absorb the snot they spewed out as they exploded, I might not have been so clumsy… His yelling at me, sitting in his cart, caused me to panic, of course, which meant that me climbing out of the cart spilled what was not spoiled already. Of course, the ruckus didn’t go unnoticed and the manager appears.)

Manager: “What happened?!”

(The manager gets a brief summary from everyone around.)

Manager: *to the couple* “You will be required to pay for the damage caused.”

(This is met with even more yelling and screaming.)

Husband: *pointing to me* “If anyone had to pay it would be him!”

(Eventually they left, still ranting, now being banned from the store. Just to illustrate just HOW much that couple is known and loathed: Instantly two other people in the queue offered to pay for the damage in case I’d be stuck with it.)

Manager: “Finally having a reason to get rid of them for good is more than he could ask from me.”

(I offered to help with the cleaning of the mess I made, which was again declined with a similar statement by the staff.)

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Accept The Brunt Of The Order Or Be Weyounded

| NJ, USA | Friendly | January 13, 2016

(I’ve been a fan of science fiction, horror, etc. for a long time and a Star Trek fan since the original series. As time went on, Deep Space Nine became my favorite of all the Treks. One of the recurring actors on the show had done a lot of Lovecraft based movies as well. A couple came through my line at the supermarket I worked at. The wife had on a Myskatonic University sweatshirt on.)

Me: “I wonder how many people mistake that for a real university.”

(We laugh and they spot the communicator pin I have on my work vest. We chat about the latest episode as I ring them up. As they finish loading their cart with the bags, I pull my vest to one side to reveal the Cardassian Union pin I have on my shirt.)

Me: “Oh, and your activities will be reported to the Obsidian Order.”

(They leave, laughing. About a week or so later, they are back in the store, but go through another line. After they were done, the husband comes up behind me and taps me on the shoulder.)

Customer #1: “And your activities have been reported to Starfleet Command.”

(We all crack up as they leave. Made an otherwise boring day much better.)

Have To Grow A Thicker Skin

| Australia | Working | January 8, 2016

(I have eczema on my forehead and hands. It is a skin condition which is hereditary where the skin, in layman’s terms, doesn’t recognize itself and attacks itself believing itself to be an invader of the body. This results in rashes, flaking skin, redness, cracking and bleeding. You can go years without it, and then it may crop up mildly or severely one year. My hands are cracked, but people notice my forehead which is currently cracked, bleeding and flaking a lot. People keep staring at me and it can make me feel insecure. I go to the supermarket to buy some groceries, when the lady at the register begins staring at me, really obviously.)

Me: “Hi.”

Clerk: *continues staring at my forehead*

Me: “I’ll just have these items, please.”

Clerk: “Sure. So, how’s your day going?” *still glaring at my forehead*

Me: *had enough* “Oh, pretty good. But I have eczema, so everyone keeps staring at my forehead.”

Clerk: “Oh… uhm… Yeah, I get eczema, too!” *hurries away without saying goodbye*

Me: “…”

Going To Dye Of Stupidity

| RI, USA | Right | January 4, 2016

(It’s a busy Sunday at the market I work at and we have run out of brown eggs. I’m filling the empty space with white eggs when a customer comes up to me.)

Customer: “I was wondering if you could go in the back and dye these white eggs brown for me?”

Me: “I don’t think I can do that.”

Customer: “Well, that’s what you do with eggs, right? You just dye the white eggs brown. My husband won’t eat white eggs so could you dye these brown?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”

Customer: “Okay, I’ll just see if someone else will dye these for me, then.”

Barking Orders

| Cape Town, South Africa | Right | December 30, 2015

(I am a customer at a supermarket. I watch this scene unfold at the checkout. It’s extremely busy and there are long lines at all the checkouts. The customer in front of me is a middle-aged woman.)

Customer: “Please, please hurry! You’re so slow. I’ve left my dog in my car, and it’s so terribly hot.”

(It’s actually a cool, cloudy day. As the employee scans the large number of items in her trolley as fast as she possibly can, the customer keeps muttering about her dog and how slow she is.)

Customer: “Wait! Isn’t there a discount on this item? It’s showing [amount] on the display, but there’s supposed to be a special offer of [amount] off.”

Employee: “Yes, ma’am, if you just look at the line below:” *indicating the display*

Customer: *ignoring her* “No, you’re wrong. I’ll prove it! Wait a minute.”

(She rushes off into the supermarket, leaving the whole line standing and waiting. She’s gone a long time, and everyone is showing signs of impatience. Eventually she comes back carrying the price tag and special offer notice that she’s ripped off the shelf.)

Customer: “You see! There’s supposed to be a discount of [amount].”

Employee: “Yes, ma’am. There’s the discount correctly shown on the line below the item.” *she shows her on the display*

(After much peering she reluctantly agrees.)

Customer: “Wait! Here’s my loyalty card. Oh, my poor dog! He’s waiting for me in that hot car.”

(She fishes around in her purse for some time before producing her loyalty card.)

Customer: *repacking a bag* “No, don’t put that in this bag.” *she fusses around, transferring items from one bag to another*

Employee: “Your total is [amount].”

(She spends some time looking slowly through her wallet before she produces a credit card.)

Customer: “And I’d like [amount] cash back, please.”

(The employee processes the transaction and hands her her cash back. With a look of relief, the employee turns to me, next in line.)

Customer: “Wait! You gave me all hundreds. Can you please give me two fifties instead of this hundred? I need some change.”

Employee: “I’ve already closed the drawer ma’am. You’ll have to wait until it opens for the next transaction.”

Customer: “You’re so slow and inefficient. Don’t you know that I have a dog waiting in my hot car?”

Customer Behind Me: *coming forward* “Here, I’ve got change for you.”

(He handed her two fifties for her hundred and she finally left, still muttering about the dog in the hot car. I quickly finished checking out, and walked out into the parking lot. I walked past the customer, busy putting her bags into her car. There was no dog in the car.)

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