I’m in the stockroom just before close on the day after Black Friday, prepping restock with my overnight staff. Suddenly, the doors slam open and a customer’s shopping cart appears, pushed by a younger teenage boy. Another two teen boys are standing in the cart. One is banging two pot lids together like cymbals; the other has a funnel to his mouth making noises like a trumpet. They circle a pole and head back to the sales floor. I immediately call the manager, who has already seen them and called in mall security.

I head out to the sales floor to meet the manager. As I approach him, we see the three boys rounding a corner, two still standing in the cart playing their “instruments.” They see us, laugh, and the boy pushing the cart starts to run. They smash through the door to the back room again, and a second later we hear a huge crash. The shopping cart has hit an empty pallet the boys didn’t see lying on the floor, and the two standing boys have been thrown out of the cart and into our corner belt, which slams into a nearby employee. Both boys are injured, one actually breaking his wrist, the other splitting open his forehead and breaking a tooth, bleeding everywhere.

Security arrives a few moments later and calls for an ambulance, and tries to ask the boys where their parents are. The boy who was pushing the cart says they were with his mother, but he has no idea where she is. He does know her cell phone number, though. She is called; she is all the way across the mall, and says she will come over once she is done shopping!

We see her coming, and she looks rather calm and smug until she goes outside. Her son is in the back of a police car along with the boy with the chipped tooth. The boy with the broken wrist is in the back of an ambulance about to pull away. The mother freaks out, crying and screaming, demanding that the kid in the ambulance not be taken to the hospital! The cops then reveal that they found shoplifted items in the pockets of two of the boys, including her son, taken from a different store, so they are going to be taken in.

The whole time her son is blubbering, “We just made a parade! It was a parade!”

There are threats of a lawsuit, but the videos basically make them drop the case entirely. We have to call someone in specially to clean up the blood, and the whole thing sets our restock back by a few hours.

(I have been getting robocalls on my cell for weeks. One gives the option to “press one to talk to an agent, or press two to be removed from our calling list.” I hit two every time, but still get calls. I get fed up one day and press one.)

Scammer: “Hello. My name is [Scammer]. How can I help you save money on your insurance today?”  

Me: “Hi. I’ve been getting calls for weeks from you guys, and I’ve always pressed two to be removed, but I’m still getting calls. I’m going to ask you one more time to remove me from your call list, or the next time you call, I’m going to contact my state attorney general’s office and report your business.”  

Scammer: “Well, I’d like to make my wife have multiple orgasms, but I can’t do that, either. Now… I could be a d**k and take your name and number and sell it to all the other insurance companies and put you on all of their calling lists, but since you’ve been so polite with me… I’ll remove you from my call list. GO DOLPHINS.” *click*

Me: “Well, that escalated quickly.”  

(On the positive side, I really haven’t received any more calls from this company.)

(I work in a dollar store.)

Customer: “So, everything in this store is a dollar?”

Me: “Yep.”

Customer: “No way. I bet I can find something more than a dollar.”

Me: “Good luck with that, sir.”

(About ten minutes pass when the customer comes up to me, sticking his chest out triumphantly. I barely open my mouth when he all but shoves a pair of reading glasses into my hands.)

Customer: “And you told me everything in this store was a dollar. See? These are $3.00.”

Me: “Sir, that’s the prescription.”

(My husband and I go to a local downtown festival with another couple we’re friends with. The festival is dog-friendly, so our friends bring their golden retriever and we bring our Rottweiler. Everyone has a good time, and most of the people are polite and actually ask us if they can pet our dogs as we’re walking around. Later on, we’re having dinner on a cafe patio that is also dog-friendly. Both dogs are pretty tired at this point, and after a drink of water and a couple treats they’re both happily laying down under our table while the four of us eat. People continue to walk by, occasionally commenting on the dogs but leaving them alone. All of a sudden, I hear a high-pitched squeal from directly behind me.)

Strange Woman: “Oh, my God! Look at them! “

(A woman who appears to be around 30 years old LUNGES around my chair from behind and tries to reach under the table where the dogs are.)

Strange Woman: “They are so cute! SO cute! I want to pet them!”

(We are all so shocked that it takes a few seconds for one of us to speak up. I will also point out that she does not seem intoxicated or anything, just ridiculously excited and invasive.)

My Husband: “Ma’am, please back up. We’re eating dinner and the dogs are resting, as you can see. They’ve had a long day.”

Strange Woman: “Aww!” *sticks her lip out in an exaggerated pout, like a toddler* “Please?”

Friend’s Husband: *sigh* “Look. You can pet ours for a minute, but then we’d like to finish eating.”

(He calls their retriever out from under the table and she sits while the woman pets her. I’m trying to shield our Rottie with my legs. He’s a friendly dog, but he also has no problem letting people know when he’s had enough attention and I don’t even want to deal with it. But, of course, as soon as she finishes petting the retriever, she turns her sights on our dog.)

Strange Woman: “And now I want to pet you!”

Me: *keeping my legs in front of him* “No, thank you. He. Is. Tired. He doesn’t want attention right now.”

Strange Woman: “Oh, of course, he does!”

(She reaches her hands out, and as soon she gets near my legs our Rottie raises his head and, without growling, shows her his teeth.)

My Husband: “Okay, that’s it. Please leave us alone now.”

Strange Woman: *clapping her hands like she thinks she’s going to coax him out from under the table* “He’s not mad! That’s a submissive grin!”

Me: “Excuse me?!”

My Husband: *stands up* “Back off, now!”

Strange Woman: “Well, fine, then! But I’m telling you, it’s a submissive grin!”

(She huffs and walks away. Only then do we realize that a guy who’s been standing five feet away on the sidewalk is with her and has just stood there watching her the whole time! She grabs his arm and continues ranting about “submissive grins” until we can’t hear her anymore. I’m able to calm our Rottie down and we start eating again.)

Friend: “A submissive grin? Where the f*** did she get that?”

This story is part of our Golden Retriever roundup! This is the last story in the roundup, but we have plenty of others you might enjoy!

23 Hilarious Stories About Taking Your Dog To The Vet!

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(At our store, we sell a variety of specialty sandwiches, such as a club, Italian, New York steamer, etc. Often we get customers who aren’t sure what one sub includes, or don’t quite get the name of the sub right — i.e. calling it a New York streamer — but usually, it’s easy enough to decipher. Sometimes, though…)

Me: “Hey, welcome to [Store]. What can I get for you tonight?”

Customer: “I want an Italian club.”

Me: “We have an Italian and a club; they’re two different sandwiches. Which one did you mean?”

Customer: “The Italian club.”

Me: “Sorry, it’s two different types. Did you want the Italian, which comes with ham, salami, and pepperoni, or the club, which has ham, turkey, and bacon?”

Customer: “I want the one with the ham.”

Me: “Which one?”

Customer: “The Italian club!”

Customer’s Friend: “It’s one or the other!”

Customer: “I just want to get an Italian club.”

(Eventually, we work out that she wants three subs: one Italian with the dressing on the side, no combo, and two clubs made the same way, both as combos. I repeat the order, and she agrees that it’s correct.)

Me: “Okay, your total tonight is [total].”

Customer: “Why is it so expensive?”

Me: “Well you have the two clubs, which are combos, and you have the Italian sandwich by itself—”

Customer: “I only wanted two combos.”

Me: “That’s all I rang you up for; the third sandwich isn’t a combo.”

Customer: “I don’t want three sandwiches!”

Me: “Oh, I apologize. Which sandwich did you want to take off?”

Customer: “I wanted both clubs.”

Me: “All right, I’ll take the Italian off–“

Customer: “I said I wanted that!”

Me: “So… take off one of the clubs?”

Customer: “I just wanted two Italian clubs!”

Me: “…”

Customer: “Just cancel it. You’re confusing me!”

(I cancelled the transaction out, and she and her friend discussed what she was getting. About five minutes later, her friend came up to order for both of them. Turned out she wanted a turkey bacon ranch.)