CONTENT WARNING: Stalking

I work in a deli inside a 24-hour grocery store. The deli closes at 10 PM and I stay on after to clean everything. I am down on my knees and scrubbing the back of something when I notice a customer just staring at me.

Me: “Sorry, sir, the deli closed at ten. We’ll be open again tomorrow at six.”

The customer just nods slightly but doesn’t move. I go back to my cleaning and when I emerge from the corner, I see that not only is the customer still there, but he has gotten closer. He is also, from what it looks like, touching himself.

Immediately freaked out and grossed out in equal measure, I run to the back and find my manager.

Me: “There’s a guy out there touching himself while is he looking at me!”

Manager: “What? What do you mean?”

Me: “He is enjoying himself watching me bend over to clean stuff.”

Manager: “Oh… Oh! Is this on camera?”

Me: “It’s at the deli.”

Manager: “Okay, I’ll check it. You go back to cleaning.”

Me: “I am not going back out there if he’s still standing there!”

Manager: *Sighs.* “Fine, I’ll check with you.”

He comes out to the deli, and we can both see that the customer has gone. I know this was a bad idea, but I agree to finish cleaning and my manager leaves. When I am close to finishing, I see the customer again, standing further away in an aisle, but sticking his head around and continuing to stare at me. He doesn’t look away when he sees me notice him.

I run back to my manager to tell him. He rolls his eyes and says I am overreacting.

Me: “Women are killed every day for being gaslit into thinking they’re overreacting. That’s not gonna be me! I am being followed!”

My manager finally agrees to check the footage (I think he was hoping I would forget about it) and we can clearly see the man pleasuring himself while staring at me.

Manager: “I’ll walk you to your car.”

Me: “Are we going to call the police?”

Manager: “That’s… a lot of paperwork.”

Me: “Are you serious?”

Manager: “Look, I’ll walk you to your car. If he comes back I will have a word with him.”

Me: “You will call the police or I am not coming back.”

Manager: “Seriously?”

Me: “Try me.”

He tried me.

I quit.

When I explained to HR why I didn’t hand in my two-week notice, they agreed with me, although I am sure they were just grateful I didn’t take any legal action against the store.

I contacted the police myself, who saw the video and traced the customer via his car registration from the parking lot cameras, which helped me file a restraining order. Some may say I overreacted, but I am still alive and I do not care.

This story is part of our Even-More-Highest-Voted-Stories-Of-2023-(so far!) roundup!

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I do graphic design for friends and family as a side hustle while I am in art school. Flyers for birthday parties and events and such. I get a call out of the blue. My parents have quite affluent friends who go out for their children’s birthdays so I can get quite a bit of business from them.

Me: “Hello?”

Caller: “That is not how you answer a call from a customer. You introduce yourself and confirm the name of the business. Now, this is [Caller’s Name]. I was at [Friend’s Child]’s birthday party last week and [Friend] said you designed all the flyers?”

Me: “Yes, that was me!”

Caller: “Good. Now I need a hundred flyers for my son to give out at school for his birthday party. It needs to be Pokémon themed and I need it by Monday.”

Me: “Monday, as in this Monday?”

Caller: “If it wasn’t I would have stated otherwise.”

Me: “It’s Saturday night.”

Caller: “Which means you have Sunday to get it done.”

Me: “I guess I could put together something basic and quick, but—”

Caller: “Excellent, I’ll now pass you over to your client.”

Me: “My… what?”

I hear the phone being handed to someone else, and I am suddenly speaking to a little boy who sounds no older than five. Words are coming out of his mouth at such a rate I am worried for his oxygen levels.

Client: “Hi!IneedAPokemonBirthdayFlyerAndINeedToHaveBulbasuarAndPikachuAndMewTwoAnd—”

Me: “Whoa, whoa, slow down there little buddy! First, what’s your name and how old are you gonna be?”

Client: “I’mGeorgeAndI’llBeFiveAndIWantEeveeAndPiplupAndCharmanderAndBulbasaurAndIThinkIAlreadySaidBulbasaurAnd—”

Me: “Okay, George! Sorry to interrupt buddy, but I need you to speak slower, okay? Now this is a flyer for you to give to kids in your school to invite them to your birthday party, yeah?”

Client: “Yeah!AndIWantSnorlaxAnd—”

Me: “George! I think it would be best if you passed the phone over to mommy for a second so I can get the information I need. Why don’t you go and write down a list of all the Pokémon you want on the flyer and give it to mommy when you’re done?”

Client: “Okay!” *Click.*

In his excitement to write a list of his favorite Pokémon, he hung up. The number wasn’t listed so I couldn’t call back. Ten minutes later, however, they call back.

Caller: “How dare you hang up on my son!”

Me: “I didn’t, ma’am, he hung up on me. I suggested he go get you to confirm the details I need for the flyer.’

Caller: “You should have gotten all that information from George!”

Me: “Ma’am, with all respect you shouldn’t be passing on your four-year-old for this part of the conversation. I need some information before I can—”

Caller: “You are very unprofessional! I don’t know why [Friend] recommended you but if you’re willing to work at half your usual rate this transaction can still be salvaged.”

Me: “You know what, I don’t think I am the right person for your request, ma’am. I’m going to politely decline this order and I wish you good luck in finding someone else.”

Caller: “You can’t do that! I’m the client! You’re the worker!”

Me: “That doesn’t mean I am forced to do any job that comes my way. You’re expecting someone to design and print a hundred birthday flyers in a day, and it sounds like according to George it’s going to have every Pokémon ever made on it. This is a difficult order already, but your attitude isn’t helping. I am refusing your order.”

Caller: “Just wait until I tell [Friend] how unprofessional you are!”

I hang up and immediately text my friend and tell her what happened.

Friend: “Oh, I told her specifically not to contact you as I know George’s birthday is next weekend, there won’t be time.”

Me: “I feel sorry for little George in all this. He’s probably writing a list of Pokémon right now thinking it’s going to be on a cute flyer for his birthday.”

Friend: “George is four and has the attention span of a golden retriever puppy. He’s probably already moved on to two other things in the time since you spoke to him. His dad is a CEO and my son has told me from personal experience that George has every Pokémon plushie known to man. He’ll be fine.”

My friend was originally not going to attend George’s birthday party but decided to become a chaperone last minute to make sure mommy wouldn’t be bad-mouthing me to all the other yummy mommies.

She tried. She was shot down. Business actually improved!

Also, according to reviews George had an amazing birthday. I hope he’s taken a breath!

Related:
Please Pokémon Go Away, Part 2
Please Pokémon Go Away

I work overnights in a gas station in a particularly bad part of town. So, from 11 PM to 6 AM I use a pass-through drawer to make transactions so I don’t get robbed. This one a**hole shows up a couple times a week and gets at least $20 in gas, and maybe $10-15 in other stuff.

How does he pay? By just dumping a handful of change into the drawer, making me pick it all up. Even if I have my hand out, he’ll go under my hand and throw it in the drawer.

This annoys like you wouldn’t believe, so I started being rude back to him. I don’t give him his stuff until I pick up each coin piece by piece and then count it all out and put it in the drawer. I’m talking like $30 in quarters and dimes and nickels, so it takes a good five minutes.

One time I was doing it, he says:

Customer: “Come the f*** on man, I’m in a hurry!”

Me: “Yeah?”

I just kept going while he huffed and puffed and swore and paced back and forth. 

After a few more times of this, he started paying only in bills.

My office bestie and I are both in the office quite early and so during our downtime, I am showing some funny memes and videos to her on my phone.

Me: “Here, look at this one. This is so cute!”

I show her a video of a toddler practicing swinging a baseball. His father gently says to “keep your eye on the ball” and he promptly complies, by placing his eyes physically on the ball.

Office Bestie: “That’s adorable!”

Another coworker is present, who witnesses the exchange.

Coworker: “You shouldn’t be laughing at that!”

Me: “We don’t start work for fifteen minutes, so—”

Coworker: “No! I mean that poor child could be autistic! They might not understand anything without taking it literally!”

Me: “I think most toddlers have trouble understanding metaphors. I don’t think—”

Coworker: “You are laughing at a child with a disability! Imagine being you, laughing at disabled children!”

Office Bestie: “Hey, now! It’s an innocent video about—”

The coworker storms out of the break room, leaving both of us confused and somewhat amused.

Later, near the end of the day, my manager comes up to me, looking solemn.

Manager: “Hey there, [My Name]. I was wondering if you could come with me for a moment?”

Me: “Suuuure?”

We walk into his office, where a woman is already sitting. I recognize her as being from HR.

Me: “What’s going on?”

HR Rep: “We’ve received a complaint that you were making derogatory jokes about the disabled in the office. I hope you realize this is a gross violation of office policy, and—”

Me: “Let me stop you right there. I was showing a coworker a funny video about a toddler misunderstanding a metaphor. We had a light chuckle. That was it. Nothing more, nothing less. [Coworker], who I am sure made this complaint but I know you can’t confirm or deny, was offended by the video. That is everything that happened.”

HR Rep: “So you were watching offensive videos on company time in the office?”

Me: “That… that isn’t what I said at all. This was before we clocked in, and to remove any doubt I can play the video for you both right now if that will help.”

Manager: “So you admit you were watching the video in the office?”

Me: “That’s… that’s not what the issue is here, is it?”

HR Rep: “Yes or no, were you watching videos in the office?”

Me: “Technically, yes, but—”

HR Rep: “Then we will have to uphold this complaint and take appropriate action. Your manager and I will review this case and—”

Me: “What is there to review? You obviously have your mind made up, and you haven’t even seen the video!”

HR Rep: “I think it would be best if you remained calm and let your manager and I discuss this matter.”

Me: “Fine. Is that all?”

They nod and I leave. I immediately go to see my Office Bestie, who has not been called in like I have. She can’t believe what happened, but she advises me to contact our office union for advice.

After a week, I get an official reprimand, which my union could not help with despite being sympathetic.

I respond to the reprimand by giving my one month’s notice.

I now work in an office where my manager laughs at the memes and funny videos.

CONTENT WARNING: Gross

We have a customer come in every morning and just destroy the male restroom. It’s not a medical issue, he is a sick man who likes to take a power trip over us lowly gas station staff by spreading his fecal matter all over the floor and walls of the restroom. It’s been a few weeks of this, and we know it’s him. 

One day I have had enough, and I corner him going to the restroom.

Me: “Sorry, sir, but there is no restroom today.”

Customer: “No, I need to use it.” *Then with a sly wink.* “You can close it after I am done.”

Me: “Actually, no sir, that will not be happening. We all know what you’ve been doing to the restrooms and you will not be allowed to deface them any longer.”

Customer: “You can’t speak to me that way! Where is your manager!”

Me: “I can fetch him for you, but he will agree with me.”

I fetch the manager, who has also been aware of the restroom situation and knows who this man is. The manager takes my side and the customer storms off. The next day the manager takes me aside.

Manager: “So, we have to let him use the restroom next time he comes in.”

Me: “What?!”

Manager: “Yeah… he called corporate, and said we were denying him access and discriminating and a whole bunch of other buzzwords that make the legal team nervous.”

Me: “And you told them that this man has been spreading his s*** all over the restroom every time he comes in and we’re the ones who have to clean it up?”

Manager: “They said if we can’t prove it’s him then there’s nothing we can do.”

Me: “What do they want us to do, put a camera in the restroom?!”

Manager: “Just… avoid him from now on.”

Me: “If he comes back and s***s everywhere again I am not going to clean it up. I’ll quit.”

Manager: “Well… we’ll see.”

Lo and behold, a few days later he is back, and this time he doesn’t just beeline for the restroom, but he makes a smug amount of eye contact with me as he heads in.

Ten minutes later he comes back out with a satisfied look on his face. I go and check the restroom and yup… he’s done it again.

I call the manager over and he has a pained look on his face.

Manager: “Look, I know you said that you would—”

Me: “Nope. Not cleaning it. If you won’t stop him from doing this then you’re the one cleaning it.”

Manager: “I have too much work on my desk. Look, clean it up and I’ll buy you lunch.”

Me: “Are you serious?”

Manager: “There’s nothing I can do.”

Me: “Well tough s***, because I quit.”

I walked out right there and didn’t look back. Losing the minimum-wage job was no biggie, but being the petty and vengeful person that I am I couldn’t let this a**hole just get away with it. I asked my coworker to call me when he came back for his sick power play, and as I lived just five minutes away I put something together.

He came back and I got the call. I literally ran over with a bag of cat poop that my little furry friends had been producing for me for a few days. I then took my gloved hand and smeared the crap all over this guy’s windshield and use it to spell out “we won’t take your s*** anymore!”

I take a seat in a nearby fast-food coffee place with a clear view of the parking lot and see him come out a few minutes later. He is appalled and disgusted and makes a scene. My manager comes out and tries to placate him but is unsuccessful.

After a minute or two of chuckling I walk past them, where he spots me.

Customer: “You! It was you that did this! You’re getting fired for this!”

Me: “I don’t know what you mean, sir. I’m just your average Jane Citizen going about her business.”

Customer: *To my manager.* “Have her fired at once!”

Manager: “She no longer works for us, sir. There’s nothing I can do.”

The customer stared back and forth between us and screamed in rageful defeat and drove off in his s***-covered car.

Manager: “You know I would have had to have fired you if you still worked here. He could also call the police on you.”

Me: “He might, but we both know the camera looking into the parking lot doesn’t work. So like Corporate said, it’s about what you can prove.”

According to my coworker, he never came back. My manager was still a weak Corporate guppy but I held him no ill-will. My new job is still minimum-wage (getting through college) but happily poop-free!