I’m working one of the garden center registers, and I am the only cashier out there. A young man comes to my register with three gift cards he wants to fill.

Customer: “And I’ll be paying with this.”

He pulls out a type of card I’ve never seen before, but I figure it must just be for a local bank.

Me: “Okay, how much would you like on the first card?”

Customer: “Two hundred, please.”

I enter two hundred dollars onto the gift card.

Customer: “You need to enter two hundred dollars cash, and then I’ll use my card to actually pay.”

Me: “Um… I’m sorry, but I can’t enter a cash payment unless you’re actually paying cash.”

Customer: “No, it’s fine. It’ll work. Just enter two hundred dollars and I’ll pay with my card once it gets accepted.”

Me: *Confused, but firm* “I can’t hit the cash button unless you give me cash. If you want to use your card, you can swipe or insert it now.”

This goes on a few more times until a manager comes out to check on me.

Customer: “You know what, never mind. It’s not that important.”

He walks off.

Me: “What was that?”

Manager: “That was a scam. Good for you for not falling for it.”

Me: “Oh.”

I work for the TSA. I am watching the bags go into the X-ray machine when I hear a strange squeaking noise. I do not hear very well, but I decide to investigate.

One of the bags has a small kitten in it. The bag was about to go into the X-ray machine when I stopped it to check. I pull the bag out of the machine and ask whose kitten it is. No one wants to admit it’s their kitten.

I get in touch with the lead, who gets in touch with the supervisor. We review security camera feeds to find the owner of the kitten.

The owner does not speak clear English and does not understand what’s going on. We get one of the translators to explain that kittens do not go through the X-ray and that the man must go through an alternative screening with his kitten.

We get the man and his kitten safely through alternative screening. I feel good about saving a kitten.

Related:
Seriously, I’m Not Kitten Around

Some family members that I live with come home with a certain contagious illness. I’m vaccinated, but I’m also pregnant, so I really do not want to risk catching it from them. My dad graciously agrees to pay for me to get a hotel room until the risk has passed. I find one that allows dogs (I have two chihuahuas with me), but my sister finds another that is supposed to be cheaper.

My boyfriend and I check out of the first hotel by 11:00 am and wait four hours to check into the second hotel. First, I find that while the price would be cheaper, the second hotel charges over $100 more for pet fees. As I don’t want Dad to have to pay the cancellation fee, we decide it’s fine.

We walk up to the room while I’m carrying both chihuahuas, and we lament that it’s really going to suck being three floors up and having to take the dogs in and out. We get to the door and it won’t open. The green light is on, but the door isn’t budging. After shoving into the door a couple of times, we decide to go back to the desk. No one is there. My arms are tired as one chihuahua is incredibly fat, so we put them in the car while we try to get the room dealt with. At the desk again, I explain the issue.

Me: “Our door won’t open. The light is coming on, so I don’t think it’s the key, but it’s like the door is blocked or something.”

Desk Lady: “Oh? Odd. I’ll send someone up to check on it.”

We decide to leave the dogs in the car and go back up. Eventually, someone from housekeeping wanders over.

Housekeeper: “Having problems with the door?”

Me: “Yes. The light is coming on, but it’s not opening.”

The housekeeper then proceeds to slam her entire body into the door! Finally, after the third try, steadily crashing into it with more and more force, she gets it open. I am in complete shock!

Housekeeper: “Yeah, this door sticks all the time. It’s really common here. You’ll just have to force it.” *Looks at my obviously pregnant belly* “Well, you probably shouldn’t, but he can.”

We go in and I tell my boyfriend I am uncomfortable staying here due to the likeliness of getting locked out, possibly with one of the dogs inside the room, and no way to get to them until he gets off work. We go back to the desk, and I tell the same desk lady that I want a refund.

Me: “I’m sorry, but being pregnant, I don’t think I’m capable of forcing that door open multiple times a day to let the dogs in and out.”

Desk Lady: “Oh, no problem. A lot of the doors have that issue. Let me call the manager.”

She gets on the phone, talks for a minute, and hangs up.

Desk Lady: “Okay, here’s your refund. I don’t think it was even taken off your card yet.”

At that moment, another guy walks up and I presume he’s the manager.

Manager: “You don’t want to stay here because the door sticks?!”

Me: “No. I don’t want to stay here because the door is impossible for me to open.”

The manager responds condescendingly while seemingly trying to intimidate me by standing over me in my personal space.

Manager: “Well, I’m sure if you just apply a little force, it’ll open. That’s no excuse for a refund.” 

Me: “Look. I’m pregnant and would have to let my dogs out to go potty pretty frequently. I’m not risking harming my unborn child to force the door open, nor will I let my dogs go potty in your hotel room. Thanks, but no, thanks. It’s not worth it to stay here.”

I walked out. I noticed afterward that Dad did not get charged the cancellation fee and we went back to the first hotel. I only wish we hadn’t wasted four hours waiting in the car, but while the two workers were nice, the manager seemed like a complete jerk.

My spouse and I are walking through the clothing section when a lady calls out to us, pointing to my spouse.

Customer: “Hey, you! Where can I find these pants in a size fourteen?”

Spouse: “Sorry, I don’t work here. I think there’s an employee by the dressing rooms.”

We continue walking.

Customer: “Hey! Hey! Get back here! I’m not done talking to you!”

I turn around, unfortunately just in time to see the lady grab my spouse’s arm.

Me: “Lady, wait—”

Too late. My spouse shrieks, grabs the lady, and throws her over them onto the floor. They back up afterward, muttering apologies all the while.

Customer: “Ow! F***! The a**hole threw me!”

Me: “My spouse already said they don’t work here! And even if they did, you shouldn’t be grabbing employees, much less ones who are combat veterans!”

While I was trying to comfort my spouse, the commotion attracted the attention of several actual employees, who subsequently called security. After questioning all of us, they determined that my spouse was acting in self-defense, and they and I were free to go. While the customer was able to get up and walk, she was taken to medical services anyway.

I thought that would be the end of it, but a month later, we received a notice from the customer’s lawyer that she was trying to charge us for assault due to the incident. Thankfully, the store was more than willing to provide security footage and witness accounts to prove otherwise, and the case was dropped.

It is the beginning of winter and it’s starting to get very cold at night. One cold day, I realize that my car is very low on gas and go to fill it up at the gas station. When I try to fill it, the automatic stop function keeps turning the gas off after barely putting any in my tank. If I manually hold it, the gas splashes back out of the tank. Some of you may know what is likely happening, but I do not and I call over the gas station attendant.

The gas station attendant tries the same thing I am doing with the same results. He also happens to have a friend filling up, and they both look at the pump and my tank, try some troubleshooting, and chat with each other. Eventually, they come to a conclusion. To preface, they both have accents that lead me to think they are not from the area, and I have no idea if the following is something that happens in other countries or if a language barrier made the communication even stranger.

Gas Station Attendant: “Someone has put something down in your car. Down in the tank. Did you put something there?”

Me: “There is something in my gas tank? No, I definitely didn’t put anything in there.”

I’m thinking maybe they have seen this happen before.

Gas Station Attendant: “Yes. You did not put anything there? No? Perhaps you have… an enemy? Someone who is angry and put something in your car? Do you have any enemies?”

Me: *Even more confused* “No, I don’t think I have any enemies.”

I ended up leaving without gas, and after sharing the story with my family, my dad explained that with the weather change and low fuel level, what had likely happened was that a small amount of water in the tank had frozen and was preventing gas from entering. I had to get rides to school for a few days until it got above freezing. And to my knowledge, I did not have an enemy!