Unfiltered Story #194985

, , | Unfiltered | May 28, 2020

(We have a lady coming through our checkout line with an exceptionally large order, adding to a very busy day at the store. I am bagging her order trying to be quick to keep the line moving)
Customer: (watching the monitor where the items & prices pop up when scanned) “Woah woah woah those cookies were supposed to be 2 for $6!”

Me: “I’m sorry about that ma’am, let me look at that for you.” ( I walk over to the monitor where we scroll back up and see that each cookie came up for $3)
Me: “Ma’am they both rang up for $3 each.”
Customer: “Oh okay is that 2 for $6?”
Me: “…… Yes ma’am it is.”

They’re Gradually Driving You Insane

, , , , | Right | May 26, 2020

I’m a locksmith located in a good area, and I often work with a coworker. We get calls from up to one hundred miles away all the time, so we occasionally get some real gems.

A lady calls us to let us know that her son has locked himself out of his car, but she doesn’t like our price, so she says she’ll call a friend to see if he can unlock it for free first.  

Lo and behold, the friend does not succeed, so we head on over. It literally takes about thirty seconds for my coworker to open the door while I finish the paperwork and collect payment. Back in the van, my coworker turns to me with a shocked look on his face and says, “The door was unlocked the whole time.”

Another time, my coworker goes to unlock a car at the town square and returns saying, “The back window was open. I just reached through and pulled the button up.”

Another time, a woman calls, needing her 2010s-era car opened. She later calls back to cancel because someone told her to try the key in the door, and it worked.

One time, we go to make keys for a car, and we get there only to discover the customer has given us the wrong year, make, and model. He had zero idea what he drove.

One time, a man insists he needs a key for his car on a day that is freezing cold and snowing. He absolutely does not want us putting it off for a sane day, and since there isn’t much snow at the time, we figure it won’t be a big problem. So, we go.

And we find a car that has clearly been sitting in the middle of a field for somewhere around three years. It is little more than scrap metal. At that time, the snow starts really coming down. Also, the locks are so messed up that we can’t do anything with them, so we can’t make the key.

Finally, a man calls us because he has gotten a new ignition switch and needs the new key programmed to his truck. On the surface, it sounds easy, but when we get there, we discover this genius got his old switch out by clipping all the wires to the antenna ring and more or less ripping it out of the way.

We explain that the antenna ring was absolutely essential to getting his truck to start, and so he grabs it, wires it back in wrong, and then promptly turns the car on. And that’s how he turned his expensive truck into a paperweight.

1 Thumbs

Unfiltered Story #194905

, , | Unfiltered | May 24, 2020

(I just transferred to a new grocery store. At my old one I had been a fuel clerk for five months, but was on register before that, still I’m a little rusty, and I’m sure I seemed new. I had just finished ringing a man and his wife up. His total came to 10.75. so he gave me 20.25. I give him his change, 9.50, then all hell breaks loose!)

Me: here you go sir, 9.50 and your receipt! (I smile)

Husband: uh, no. I get back 10 dollars, not 9.50.

(I froze, print a copy of his receipt and double check)

Me: um, you gave me 20.25 sire, your total was-

Husband: I know what my fucking total was! But you don’t know how to fucking count! (He shoves his finger into my face, leaning over the register)

Me: (I’m a little taken aback, but smile brightly, knowing full well what he gave me. I always triple count change in my head) oh, well I don’t think I kiss counted, but if I did, I’m very sorry. I think I have two spare quarters laying around, if you just hand me back your change, I’ll gladly give you a ten-

Husband: no you don’t understand, you need to go back to fucking school since you can’t count! Why do they hire such idiots!

Me: (I smile even bigger and hold out my hand for his change) your change sir, so I can get you a 10?

Husband: it’s not even about the ten, it’s about how fucking dumb you are! (He screams so loudly that his wife draws back from him

Me: (still smiling, now a line built up) alright, well you have a good day then sir! (I quickly turn to the next person in line and start ringing them up, only to hear him belittling me more to his wife, screaming that they should see a manager. Funny thing is, they counted my till about an hour later. Perfectly balanced. What gets me is that I offered to fix a mistake o know I didn’t make!)

Mary, Mary, Contrary AF

, , , , , | Related | May 22, 2020

A few years ago, my mother, younger brother, and I lived with my great-grandmother while we were between houses. We would sit with her in the living room and read or watch television so that she wasn’t lonely. Her son who had lived with her had died, and she needed someone to “take care of.” We would cook her meals and clean the house.

Her daughter, Mary, lived next door. This woman was the passive-aggressive mother from sitcoms. She would come over and make snippy comments about lint on the floor or crumbs on the tablecloths.

One day, she started cursing me out because the blanket on the back of the couch was crooked. She would vacuum and sweep every time she came over and loudly boast about all the polishing, waxing, laundry, and mopping she had done at her house that day.

My brother and I are half-siblings — same mother, different fathers — so she would tell stories about meeting someone at church like, “She’s one of those kinds of women, you know? Where her kids have different last names than her.”

Once, her three-year-old grandson called me the N-word, only to be shushed by his father, and she would complain about “Messicans” that lived up the road. I put up with it because I loved my Granny and knew that she wasn’t going to be around much longer, as she was in her mid-nineties at the time.

My grandfather, one of Granny’s sons and Mary’s brother, handled her money. He left on a trip and went grocery shopping before he left. Four or five days after he left, Mary came over at nine in the morning and started b****ing and banging things around. “This table looks like there’s been a kindergarten class here!” Then, she opened the fridge. “You don’t have no milk at all? [My Grandfather] had a hunnerd dollars of grocery money but he didn’t get you no d*** groceries!”

Remember: my grandfather had gone shopping almost a week before this, and, with four people in the house, the jug was understandably near-empty.

Fed up, I stormed into the kitchen. “It’s. Just. Milk. You don’t have to scream at the top of your lungs! I’m done putting up with you!” I left the room with her telling me, “Your a** can go to h***!”

My mother called my grandfather and basically told him that his sister had lost her d*** mind and that he needed to come home. While we were packing, she found Mary in the kitchen and told her that we were taking care of her mother, when she lived thirty steps away, and that she had no right to insult me the way she had for the past year.

Mary started banging a broom handle on the kitchen table, beginning to brag about times she had bought Granny apple juice or chicken dinners, “at my expense! at my expense!” in an effort to change the subject.

Mary, if you or anyone in your family ever reads this, f*** you. F*** your racist, homophobic, xenophobic, bigoted child and grandchildren. I am so much more than any of you will ever be.

1 Thumbs

Unfiltered Story #193925

, , | Unfiltered | May 10, 2020

I was working in the window, unfortunately trying to get a big order together. The lady who was waiting for her food was waiting on some speciality drinks, which were about to come up. I hear a loud honking, not once, but twice; coming from the window. Looking over I expecting to see the lady ready to scream at me, she instead is looking out her passenger window. I go on over once I have the drinks, passing them over, she tells me, “That lady says you made he order wrong.” Looking on over now to see who she’s talking about I see a middle-aged woman sitting in her car glaring at me through this woman’s SUV yelling things as she looks about ready to throw the sandwiches in her hand through the woman’s car.
I apologize to the woman at my window, and wait for her to move to try and hear what the lady in the other car is yelling. Unfortunately for her there was a long line of cars, none of which wanted to wait, as the next car pulled up making it impossible to hear the lady who is still glaring at me, waving the two sandwiches for me to see. I have to try and shout to her, “I can’t understand what you’re saying. Can you please pull up to a drive thru speaker so we can help you?”
She proceeds to look like she’s fuming with anger now, yelling something I can’t hear. I tell my floor manager in advance there is an angry lady, coming to a speaker, who apparently got the wrong food. My manger apparently knew who it was and was in a frenzy to help get the lady’s food out to her. Next ting I know, our back-cash girl is coming up to the front holding her headset out for someone one to take, “I don’t know what is wrong with this lady, but all she’s been doing is cursing at me.” I tell my floor manager that it’s probably the lady who was honking at me from the second window.
My manger takes the headset, but within those few moments the lady and pulled away from the speaker, and proceeded to the first window, claiming we should all be fired and many other curse words I don’t like to use.
To make things even more aggravating, the lady, instead of pulling to the second window, where I was at, waiting with her food, decided to pull off into a parking spot and call out district manager to try and tell him just how terrible we were.
My floor manager, however went out to the car after figuring out where she went, and delivered her food, profusely apologizing. To this day I still don’t understand why my floor manager did what she did, when this by far was one of the rudest, and most obscene customers I’ve ever met.