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Is This The Part Where We Play A Trap Card Or Something?

, , , , , | Legal | May 15, 2022

I work in one of several shops in a roughly fifty-mile radius that buys, sells, and trades trading card games — think: Pokemon, YuGiOh, Magic: the Gathering, that kind of stuff, and almost all of it in single cards. We buy collections of cards rather frequently, and it’s not unusual that people will stop by without their cards just to gauge how we work and how things happen.

A guy comes in one evening. He seems nice enough. He tells me he was sent by another store of our acquaintance because they couldn’t afford to buy his collection. This gets flagged in my brain as a jackpot: good cards that we can then sell? Yes, please! 

I give him the email of my manager to schedule an appointment because it’s a very large collection of cards. He’s happy, I’m happy, and I send him on his merry way. 

I’m not there when he returns, but from what I hear from my other coworkers, he comes back with a LOT of boxes, large and small, and a couple of bins. Again, this is not unusual; collections of this size come in all shapes and sizes. We’ve had people come in with plastic bags of rubber-banded cards. You name it, we’ve probably seen it.

My manager tells one of my coworkers to grab a particular box; that’s where the “good” cards are. We know what cards these are, and they’re GOOD.

My coworker grabs said box… and said box is empty. 


Cue the manager and several coworkers frantically going through the entire collection trying to find at least two cards. I’m told this takes upwards of six hours, and I believe it. They go through the collection. They go through it twice, thrice, several more times. The cards are nowhere to be found. 

We contact the guy and tell him the cards are gone.

Guy: *Nicely* “Shoot, I didn’t check the cards after I took them from the other shop. They are there, in the other shop; that’s how they knew it was a massive collection and they couldn’t afford it.”

We contacted the other shop. They didn’t have the cards, either, they claimed. Cue the other store frantically looking. 

Please note: the guy did NOT blame my store in ANY CAPACITY, AT ALL. He didn’t even seem that fazed, to be honest. These were EXTREMELY valuable products, so what was happening here? 

I came in for my shift the other day to get the lowdown on exactly what happened to those cards, and discovered a few things:

  • An employee from the other store was let go. We were not told why.
  • The other store cut the guy a check for the value of the missing cards.
  • A regular at our store told us that the employee who had been let go had worked at that other store for some time…
  • …and there were cameras filming what happened.
  • There is now a court case.

I don’t know any other details, but it turns out that it wasn’t just those two cards, it was a grand total of forty cards missing. Where those cards went, who could say, but all I know for sure is that our store cut the guy our own check — for the cards he actually gave us. 

The guy was fine, was chill, and went along his merry way… and our store managed to dodge a massive bullet we didn’t even know was there.

Please Don’t Be Connected Please Don’t Be Connected…

, , , , , , | Right | May 15, 2022

I work in customer service for a food company. Customers call us if they have questions about our products regarding things like ingredients, health, allergens, etc.

Me: “Thank you for calling [Company]. How can I help you?”

Caller: “How do you know when to take [pie] out of the microwave?”

Suddenly, I hear a loud “pop!” from the background.

Person In The Background: “MY LEGS!”

Caller: “Uh… I gotta go!” *Click*

Theft? What?

, , , , , , | Healthy | May 15, 2022

I am working late at a veterinary hospital and a note was left for the doctor. The phone rings, and I answer.

Me: “[Veterinary Hospital], my name is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Owner: *Politely* “Hi there. I left a note for the doctor this afternoon and I haven’t heard back yet. My pet’s name is [Pet] and my last name is [Owner’s Last Name]. I was wondering if we could fill antibiotics for my pet?”

Me: “Okay, let me look that up for you!” *Typing* “Oh, I see the doctor won’t be in until tomorrow. Sorry about that. My coworker should have let you know! She’ll get back to you tomorrow, but I’ll let you know that standardly the doctor does require a recheck exam prior to filling antibiotics, especially since it’s been a couple months since we’ve seen the pet!”

Owner: *Silence*

Me: *Pauses* “Ma’am, did I lose you?”

Owner: *Suddenly angry* “No, I heard you, but that’s theft.”

Me: *Shocked* “What?”

Owner: “That’s theft to demand a recheck!”

Me: “Ma’am, I was letting you know so you have a realistic expectation of tomorrow’s call with the doctor and to see if you wanted to make the appointment.”

Owner: “That’s theft!”

Me: *Sternly, getting back my senses* “No, it is not.”

Owner: “Yes, it is!”

Me: “Ma’am, if you continue yelling at me, I will have to hang up.”

Owner: *Yelling* “I’m not yelling!”

Me: “Yes. You are.”

Owner: “I’ll talk to the doctor tomorrow!” *Hangs up*

Rated R You Serious?, Part 5

, , , , , | Right | May 14, 2022

A father brings his three young boys in to see “Deadpool”. He gets the obligatory warning that it is R-rated, but he waves us off with the now meme-able phrase:

Customer: “It’s a comic book movie. How bad can it be?”

Me: “Okay, sir, as long as you’re aware that because I have given you this warning, once I sell you these tickets, they are non-refundable.”

Customer: “Whatever, I am sure it’ll be fine.”

Of course, less than half an hour later, out he comes with his children.

Customer: “I need a refund!”

Me: “For what reason, sir?”

Customer: “That movie is pure filth! I demand a refund for you scarring my boys!”

The boys are giggling and talking about “boobies”, so they seem fine to me.

Me: “So, let me get this right. We warned you that this movie was R-rated and not suitable for children, and we explicitly said that we could not refund you after the tickets had been sold. Now you want a refund because the movie is not suitable for children?”

Customer: “Well, when you say it like that, you make it sound like I’m the idiot.”

Me: “Precisely, sir.”

He did not get his refund.

Rated R You Serious?, Part 4
Rated R You Serious?, Part 3
Rated R You Serious?, Part 2
Rated R You Serious?

If You’re Going To Call The Police, Just Do It And Go Away, Part 2

, , , , , , | Friendly | May 14, 2022

I previously posted a story about how I got harassed for the audacity of being male while watching my friend’s child for her. The man who harassed me would often send his son to “investigate” me after that incident because he never seemed to accept that a man could actually care about kids and like spending time with them.

This story happened about a year after the last one. It was Halloween and I’d offered to take my friend’s kids trick-or-treating since their mother wouldn’t be able to; she had certain chronic health issues that could limit her physical activity. I had both of her sons outside already dressed for trick-or-treating, but we were waiting for their older teenaged sister who was tagging along despite being a bit old to trick-or-treat. As we waited outside, the son of the man who harassed me ran up to visit with the boys I was watching.

The son was acting normally this time, with none of the stilted and obviously forced asking of questions I saw when he was sent as a proxy of his father, so I assumed he was coming of his own volition this time to visit the boys. He was dressed up as a martial artist, and after chatting with the kids for a bit, he got excited and started mock-fighting them.  

At first, I was fine with some harmless mock-fighting, but the kid was getting too worked up and out of control. The odds of his actually hurting someone unintentionally were increasing, and my kids didn’t seem to be enjoying it anymore. I cautioned him that he should stop being so forceful, but he was too excited and didn’t heed my warning. Before anyone condemns this kid too much, I don’t think he was malicious, and I consider this sort of not being good at curtailing your play to be pretty common with kids that age; he wasn’t a terrible kid, just an overly-excited one.

I’m pretty used to getting tag-along kids wanting to join in with the play whatever kids I’m watching are doing, so I have some experience with trying to control and regulate play with kids that I don’t know well, but that doesn’t make it easy. Even in the best of cases, there is always a chance a parent will get offended if you try to tell their kid to do, or not do, something, and I already knew this kid’s father thought I was secretly a pedophile, so I doubted I’d be getting the benefit of the doubt there. So, rather than trying to force the kid to stop playing, I decided it was safer to redirect him.

I should mention now that I have first dan black belt in Tae Kwon Do. That isn’t too impressive since it’s only first dan and was from a tiny McDojo; I’m quite certain if I ever ended up in a real fight I’d still get my butt handed to me despite the black belt. However, it was a good excuse to distract the kid by first mentioning I was a black belt and then “challenging” him to a fight. He flared at me with even less control then he had with the boys, but I had enough sparring experience to at least be able to avoid the uncontrolled “attacks” of a hyper little kid easily enough. I’d throw the occasional mock kicks back at him, and he was safely entertained without any risk of a kid being hurt. I considered this a successful handling of the situation.

I’m sure everyone can guess what happened next. Lo and behold, the father belatedly showed up. 

Father: “What are you doing?! Get away from him!”

Me: “We are waiting to go trick-or-treating. Your son is the one who approached us.”

Father: “Why are you playing with him?”

Me: “Because I was worried he would hurt the boys with the way he was playing, so I distracted him.”

Father: “I didn’t say you could play with him!”

At some point during this exchange, my friend’s boys’ older sister had come outside; I honestly didn’t notice when. She now spoke up with the sort of sarcastic disdain that only a teenager can manage, ramped up to eleven.

Older Sister: “And we didn’t say [Kid] could kick my brothers. If you don’t want him playing with strangers, maybe you should be watching him better.”

Man: “Where’s your mother?!”

Older Sister: “In her room. I’m not getting her for you again. We are going trick-or-treating now.”

Man: “What? I didn’t—”

Me: “Sorry, but we are going to be late for trick-or-treating. Now that everyone’s ready, let’s go to the car, kids.”

Man: “You’re taking them without their mom?”

Older Sister: “Yes, like she said he could because she trusts him to, because he is good at taking care of my brothers, and we like him. You take care of your kid, and let us take care of my brothers.”

He tried a few more lame attempts to get me to answer his questions, but his righteous anger seemed to have been deflated by now, so I mostly brushed him off by intentionally ignoring the implied question behind what he was saying and giving him polite non-answers for the minute it took for me to get the kids in the car.

During that car ride, I learned that, apparently, this man had shown up at least twice to ask their mom about “the strange man” who was with her kids, and her daughter had grown quite annoyed with him after listening in on one of those conversations. Everyone in the household, minus the youngest kid who was too young to fully understand what was happening, was pretty much in agreement that he was an idiot and they weren’t going to put up with him anymore.

If You’re Going To Call The Police, Just Do It And Go Away