Unfiltered Story #88999

, , | Unfiltered | June 2, 2017

I’m a lawyer. We deal with lots of immigration work, and charge a fee. One day, I get a call on my mobile from a withheld number- no idea where he got my details. The caller is about to be deported and wants me to represent him. He won’t tell me his name or address.

Caller: …And I want you to do it for free.

Me: Ah. Sorry, can’t help you with that. But if you call… (A charity that might be able to help)

Caller: WHAT THE F**K? If you don’t do it for free, I’ll… I’ll BREAK ALL MY FINGERS one after another until you do!

Me: I… what? Why? You just need to call…


Me: What? Stop, don’t… (There’s a horrible *SNAP* and cracking noise as he breaks one of his fingers. I hear the whole thing).

Caller: AAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH! F***********K! (He starts sobbing in obvious agony).

Me: What did you do!? Stop it! Don’t… (*SNAP*)

Caller: (Sobbing gets worse) DO IT FOR FREE!

Me: Wait! Please! I can’t help you, but I know someone who… (*SNAP* *SNAP* Two go at once)

Caller: OHHHHH GODDDDDD (Sobbing)! WHY? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?! STOP IT, PLEASE! DO IT FOR FREEEEEEE! (*CRUNCH* This one sounds like it doesn’t break cleanly. He squeals in pain.)

Me: F**k. Where are you? I’m going to call you an ambulance.


I hang up, and run to the bathroom to throw up. I called the police and told them what I’d heard. They try to find the caller to get him to hospital, but they can’t trace the call and he never told me his name or address. That’s the last I hear of it.

About two years later, I’ve moved to another firm in the same area, and I get a call from another lawyer in that firm who’s had a call from a possible client and wants my opinion. Apparently, the client has told him that about two years ago, his lawyer cut off all his fingers because he couldn’t pay. Funnily enough, I don’t take the case.

, , | General | June 2, 2017

While a student I spent two weeks one summer teaching English to rich European teenagers in Southampton, UK. During the week I spent my time in classes, while one weekend day would be spent accompanying the students on an excursion somewhere. Most of the time the teenagers were fine but every now and then you’d find one spoiled rich kid who was clealy angry at being ‘dumped in Britain’ by his or her ridiculously rich Belgian/Swedish/Russian parents. To make sure the students could easily identify staff, we all had to wear blue polo-neck shirts with the language school logo on both the front and the back.

One of those excursions on a really grey rainy day was to a theme park about an hour or two away from where we were based. Coincidentally, staff uniform at this particular theme park was almost the exact same shade of blue polo-neck shirt as teachers did.

This wasn’t much of a problem most of the day; coralling my assigned group of pupils, making sure they weren’t getting up to mischief and generally keeping tabs on everything while every now and then having to explain to a confused park visitor how I wasn’t actually working at the park was all I had to deal with.

Then some of my group wanted to go on some ‘thrilling’ new rollercoaster. It went backwards. In the dark. Woo. So, waiting in line with a group of the teenagers, a couple of whom were particularly belligerent, we notice we’ve been standing still for a bit of a while without moving. It turns out ‘something’ had happened with the rollercoaster – rumors were going around someone had vomited on the ride, but there was no official word on it.

Being the only person in the queue with a blue polo-neck on I suddenly get inundated with my own European teenagers asking me questions. Which prompted the rest of the crowd around me, and people deciding to back through the line because they couldn’t be bothered to wait, to also ask me questions with a couple (no joke) actually asking ‘what are we standing in line for?

Surrounded by non-English speaking students and British families on a rainy cold day out in a theme park I’d never been to in my life, all of whom saw me as a beacon of knowledge, ‘I don’t even work here’ really just didn’t seem to cut it.

Unfiltered Story #87846

, , | Unfiltered | June 2, 2017

(I was in a large stationary/news store some years back, wearing a shirt which happened to be in their corporate color, and I was approached by a random, very well spoken customer, who asked…)

Cust: “Excuse me, could you help me?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t actually work h….”

Cust: (interrupting abruptly) “What do you mean?”

Me: “I don’t work here, I’m not a member of sta……”

Cust: (interrupting even more abruptly) “Well why not?”

Me: “…..!!?!….Errrm….??!!!?…….”

Whereupon the customer stomped off complaining about my disgraceful attitude.

With umpteen years hindsight I would have liked to give the answer “Unfortunately they have a stringently enforced ‘No Tosspots’ policy, but the moment may have gone

It’s Not Always Nice To See More Of Your Mother

, , , | Related Romantic | June 1, 2017

(My mum has gotten a new phone.)

Mum: *sends picture of her cleavage*

Me: “What are you doing!”

Mum: “You like that big boy? You want more?”

Me: “No!”

Mum: *sends more*

(As she is only downstairs, I decide to just talk to her.)

Me: “Mum, STOP! You’re sending those to me.”

Mum: *going pale and checking her phone* “[Last three digits]?”

(I nod.)

Mum: “Oh, my god, I’m so sorry. I’ve got you saved as your father!”

(I’m traumatised.)

And I’ll Get To Scotland Before You

, , , , , | Right | June 1, 2017

(I work at an office that offers tours of Scotland and the highlands, although sometimes we can take on private groups. I’m on a late shift by myself and the phone rings.)

Me: “Hello, [Tour Company].”

American-Sounding Girl: “Hi, I wondered if I could get a quote on a private tour?”

Me: “Okay, how many are we talking?”

American-Sounding Girl: “190.”

Me: *thinking “wow!”* “Okay, and were you looking for one of our set itineraries or a custom itinerary?”

American-Sounding Girl: “Well, shall I just tell you the situation and we can take it from there?”

Me: “Sounds good.”

American-Sounding Girl: “Okay, so we’re all college students and we’re looking to organise a large trip to the Superbowl—”

Me: “I’ll just stop you right there. Where are you calling from?”

American-Sounding Girl: “Nova Scotia.”

Me: “Okay, I think you may have the wrong number. This is [Tour Company] in Scotland.”

American-Sounding Girl: “…”

Me: “…so you are just over 2,000 miles closer to the Superbowl than we are…”

American-Sounding Girl: “…”

Me: “…so, you know… it’s only fair to advise you that this would impractically expensive for you.”

(There was a long pause then she burst out laughing, followed by me. We had a good laugh!)

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