They’re A Real Glass Act

, , , , | Right | March 12, 2019

(It’s a really busy day at the restaurant where I work. There’s a line out the door, and the moment a table gets cleared off it gets filled again. I’m serving a section that’s kind of separated from the rest of the restaurant. There’s one table that’s in a little nook at the back. There are tables straight across from it and it’s long enough that if you need to sweep or vacuum under it you need to move the tables across from it in order to pull that table out. One of my tables earlier in the day has somehow managed to smash about three glasses on the table in the nook. Because the table across is full, I can’t pull the table out to get all the glass from underneath — they got glass EVERYWHERE — so I warn my manager and the rest of the staff not to seat anyone there. Then, I clean the glass shards from the table, booth seats, and the floor in front of the table as much as I can, just as I was told to do. It is later in the day. A new family is seated at the table across from the nook table. For most of their meal, everything is fine and pleasant. I notice at one point they have let their young daughter — about five — start to run around, climbing on other tables and crawling on the floor. I warn her once not allow her kid to run around and climb on tables because it is dangerous and she could get hurt. Near the end of the meal, as I’m clearing away dishes, the mother stops me by grabbing my arm.)

Mother: “Excuse me. That’s really dangerous, you know. There are glass slivers on that table. My daughter could get hurt.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, some customers broke some glasses earlier. I thought I had it cleaned as best I could at the time, but that’s one of the reasons we don’t want children crawling and climbing on tables where they aren’t seated. I’ll clean the table further.”

Mother: “Well, do it fast; it’s really not responsible to leave it like that!”

(I look at the table. There are no slivers that I can see on the table, but I do spot some I’ve missed on the booth seats. I grab a cloth, anyway, and come back to wipe down the seats when I see her daughter is now crawling around UNDERNEATH the table with the broken glass. When the daughter sees me she climbs out from underneath and I begin wiping the seats.)

Mother: “I knew it! Excuse me!”

(I turn back to her.)

Me: “Yes.”

Mother: “My daughter got hurt because of your incompetence!”

(The mother then holds her daughter’s hand out; she has a tiny cut on her hand about the length and width of a small papercut.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, I—“

Mother: “I don’t want to hear it. If you’d cleaned properly in the first place, this wouldn’t have happened. Get me a bandaid now, and I want to speak to your manager.”

(The daughter is looking really uncomfortable and trying to pull away, telling her mother she wants to go play. I apologize again and go to get a bandaid and tell my manager what happened. He tells me he’ll be with them in a minute and I give the bandaid to the mother. Everything seems fine until I notice that the daughter is back playing at the nook table.)

Me: “Ma’am, as you already pointed out, and as I’ve already told you, it’s not safe for your daughter to be climbing and playing at that table.”

Mother: “She can do what she wants!”

(My manager arrives and sends me off to do other tasks while he speaks with the customer. A few minutes later, my manager is telling me that he’s going to have other servers cover my tables so I can go scrub down the tables to make sure all the glass is gone. I assume everything has been worked out with the mother… until I hear her shouting again.)

Mother: “D*** it, your stocking is ripped, too! You!” *points at me* “You are in sooo much trouble. If you had just done as you’re supposed to, this wouldn’t have happened. My baby wouldn’t have been hurt. I’m calling the cops on you! I’m going to have you arrested for assault, you b****! You left glass there on purpose!”

(I just decide to ignore her and go tell my manager what’s happened now. The daughter isn’t bleeding from the leg, and I am just about at the point of yelling back at her about watching her child instead of letting her run around, so I figure it is best to just not engage her. My manager agrees and sends me back out to keep scrubbing the table. He comes out to talk to them and offers them 20% off their bill. They seem content and he walks away.)

Mother: *turning back towards me as I clean* “D*** useless b****, trying to hurt my daughter. You’re going to be arrested, you know. I’m going to charge you with assault. Aggravated assault even. What, are you deaf? Are you even listening to me?”

(I continue to ignore her and just keep cleaning.)

Grandmother: “What are you doing with that jam, [Mother]?”

Mother: “This lazy b**** doesn’t want to clean, so I’m going to give her something to clean. I’m going to open every one of these and smear them on the tables!”

Grandmother: “Stop it; you’re making a scene.”

Mother: “No!”

(She then proceeded to open three or four packs of jam and smear them on the table and seats. Just as I was about to go tell my manager what was happening, she stood up and rushed to the front where customers are supposed to pay. She then continued to rant to the manager about my poor service, cleaning job, attitude, etc. She then demanded he make it up to her daughter for getting injured by giving her a free stuffed animal and giving them their meal free. In the end, the manager gave them the 20% off and a free toy. With them gone I was finally able to pull out the nook table and properly clean underneath.)

It’s Time For Them To Punch Out

, , , , , , | Friendly | March 5, 2019

(I was involved in an incident that left me anxious around strangers. I’m barely able to talk to them and I really don’t want to be touched by them. I have been getting help, but I still have to have family or a friend go with me whenever I go out. I’m out shopping with one of my closest friends. I’m deciding on what chips I want when he says he is going to the next aisle to grab some water. I’m okay with this since it should only be less than a minute before he gets back. As soon as he goes around the corner, a middle-aged woman comes up to me.)

Lady: “Excuse me. Can you tell me where the [item] is?”

(I’m feeling anxious already, but she was polite so I manage to answer her.)

Me: “Sorry. I don’t know where that is.”

(Her politeness disappears immediately.)

Lady: *raising her voice* “What do you mean, you don’t know? What kind of employees do they hire here that don’t know where anything is?!”

(The employees wear long-sleeve, white dress shirts with a tie, black slacks, and either a vest or apron. I’m wearing a white hoodie and black jeans.)

Me: *starting to shake and tear up* “I don’t work here. I—“

Lady: *cutting me off* “BULLS***! I saw you help that young man just now.”

(I’m now beginning to panic when I see my friend come around the corner and begin to walk toward him.)

Lady: *grabs me by the arm* “DON’T YOU WALK AWAY FROM ME, YOU LAZY B—“

(That’s the last thing I hear. I’m not 100% sure what happens but my friend tells me that as soon as the lady turns me, I punch her in the nose. Then I kind of black out for a little while. My friend tells me this is what happens after I punch her.)

Lady: *now holding her bloody nose* “CALL THE COPS! THIS F****** EMPLOYEE JUST ASSAULTED ME!”

Friend: *checking on me* “She’s not an employee; she’s a customer. And you grabbed her first.”


(A manager comes over with the security guard and an employee who is another friend of mine.)

Manager: “What’s going on?”


Friend: “You grabbed her first.”

(The cops are called, and I begin to calm down. I see the employee holding my hand trying to calm me down.)

Me: *disoriented* “What’s going on?”

Employee: *calmly and quietly* “It’s okay. Can you tell me what you remember right now?”

Me: *starting to hyperventilate when I see the lady* “That woman grabbed me.”

Employee: *rubbing my hand* “It’s okay. The cops will be here and it will all be sorted out.”

(I just want to go home now. I pull my knees up to my chest and I start crying. My friend sits next to me and tries to calm me down. The lady still has to get her jabs in.)

Lady: “You know you f***** up, don’t you?”

Manager: “Miss, could you please leave her alone?”


(My friend has had enough. I have never seen him so mad.)

Friend:No! She is not. You’re the one who grabbed her, because you’re too stupid to listen when someone says they are not an employee.” *points to cameras and the end of the aisles* “And those will prove it.”

(The lady now has a worried look on her face and starts to walk back out of the aisle toward the exit, but the cops show up. The manager leads the cops, my friend, and the lady to his office to review the tapes while the employee stays with me.)

Me: *crying* “I want to go home.”

Employee: “As soon as they let [Friend] leave, we can go. How about when this is done I go get some [my favorite ice cream] and stop by [my favorite pizza place] and we watch some Disney movies?”

Me: “Don’t you still need to work?”

Employee: “No, I just got off. I can leave whenever we’re done here.”

(I agreed, and [Friend] came out and asked if I was ready to go. It took me a few more minutes to get up and go. On our way home, my friend told me that after they reviewed the tape and he explained how I don’t like to be touched, the cops were very understanding. The lady wasn’t, and she flipped out, slapping my friend and kicking the manager. The lady was arrested and that’s the last I heard about her. My employee friend came over later with the ice cream and pizza and we watched Disney movies for the rest of the night.)

This Couponer Can Can It

, , , , | Right | February 26, 2019

(Lately, our store has started a “buy one bag, get two cans free” deal on several dog and cat food brands. However, corporate had the brilliant idea of designing all the sales signs so the “buy one” and “get two free” parts were in large, prominent writing, while the “bag” and “cans” parts were in tiny writing. Sure enough, I end up having to deal with all the angry customers, as a result.)

Cashier: *paging* “Manager to register one.”

(I rush over and see a lady yelling at my cashier. Meanwhile, her four children are running around the store making an even louder fuss.)

Me: “How can I help?”

Customer: “The price is wrong on these bags of dog food! It’s supposed to be buy one, get two free!”

Me: “Sorry, it’s actually buy one bag, get two cans free.”

Customer:No, it’s not! I’m an extreme couponer! I know what I’m talking about! It’s buy one bag, get two bags free! I’ll show you!”

(I let her lead me to one of the sales signs.)

Customer:See? It says it right there!

Me: “It says, ‘Buy one bag, get two cans free.’ See?”

(I pointed at the words, “bag,” and, “cans.” In response, she THREW her bags of dog food at me and stormed out of the store with her children. For some reason, she took an empty cart out with her and left it in the middle of the parking lot when she drove away. Payback, I guess? I can understand being frustrated at the misleading sales signs, but you’d think an “extreme couponer” would have the sense to read the fine print… and also maybe not throw heavy products at people.)

The Police Are A Must With The Pelvic Thrust

, , , , , | Legal | February 25, 2019

This is a story relayed to me by an employee at a small bowling alley that I frequent. It should be noted that the alley typically operates with a skeleton crew due to lack of people interested in working there full-time, so this employee acts as cashier, repairman, and manager.

It starts with a car accident across the street. Fortunately, the car winds up colliding with a large tree that remains undamaged, and nobody is badly hurt as a result of the crash, but the front of the car is completely caved in. Instead of calling insurance or maybe even a tow truck, the occupants ditch the car and head over to the bowling alley.

The group situates itself at a table and one of its members, who reeks of alcohol, approaches the counter. Much to the surprise of the employee, instead of asking for rental shoes or a lane to bowl on, the man demands alcohol. He does look over 21 but can’t present any ID, and he seems like he arrived over-served, anyway, so his request is declined.

He’s not happy but moves on to demanding to bowl against the employee, with the winner getting $1000 from the loser. Because the employee is working at the moment and he doesn’t know the guy, anyway, he politely declines, but his refusals are only met with the man continuing to up the reward money by another $1000. Eventually, he is told that if he does not want to buy or rent anything, then he needs to leave. The man complies at first, but is distracted on the way out by a random stranger minding his own business. The man suddenly whips around and threatens to fight the now-confused stranger, and while no brawl comes of it, the employee is alarmed by the violence and immediately calls the police. He then firmly reminds the man that he needs to leave, but that only convinces the man to storm over to the counter and start threatening him instead. Not wanting to escalate anything or get hurt, he steps back, bites his tongue, and hopes the man will be distracted long enough to not bother anybody else before the police arrive.

The man, however, is quickly bored of threatening the employee and moves onto the arcade games. Rather than play on any of the machines, he invents his own game of intensely and suggestively pelvic thrusting in front of the basketball hoop game.

Suddenly, the man’s friend yanks the man away from the machine and the group hastily disappears into the night. It happens so fast that it’s as though a switch flipped in the friend’s head.

The police arrive and start gathering evidence. Turns out the car isn’t the only thing that group chose to ditch. The friend, in his haste to leave, had abandoned just about every single document relating to his most recent car rental on the table, and the rental car’s description matches almost perfectly with the car that he’d just crashed. What doesn’t match, however, is the registration. The car has a Florida license plate; the form clearly indicates that the car is registered in Virginia. The rental company was contacted, and from there the police found out that there were also serious discrepancies with the personal information he gave the company versus the personal information on the document. This is a telltale sign of fraud and forging/doctoring contracts, most probably done because the man’s friend did not have a valid license and hence needed to fake one with matching fake information to rent a car.

While the man was clearly wasted, the police had no evidence or suspicion that the man’s friend had been drinking that night. Since the whole group had since vanished, the police then advised the employee to keep a small gun on him at work for defense should another incident occur, and to simply contact the police without engaging with the suspect at all if anybody from that group enters the alley again.

Hopefully, the group is smart enough to stay away, though, or at least has learned to keep a close eye on the guy that gets really crazy and stupid when he’s drunk.

He Fought The Law… And Won

, , , , , | Learning | February 22, 2019

(In our high school, we have this one teacher that absolutely HATES phones. Doesn’t matter if it is a flip phone, a smart phone, a hand phone, or even one of those red old-school phones with the dial; if she sees anyone with their phone out, she will confiscate the phones and have them returned by the end of the day, and that’s after threatening to call parents and giving the offending student a half-hour talk after school. Even students who don’t have her and are just passing through the hallway in front of her door could have their phones taken. She is a bit… unstable… and if you’re wondering why parents and students don’t complain about her, they do, but she’s the only teacher teaching the subject right now, and admittedly, she’s pretty high quality compared to rest of the teachers at our school when she isn’t being super unpredictable, so nobody really takes any action against her. At the beginning of every year, she prints out and forces students to sign a contract stating that they won’t have phones in class or else she will confiscate them. Because the contract is signed by the students, the principal can’t find fault, so this kind of behavior continues for a good amount of time. That is, until one kid joins us midway throughout the school year. He’s not too late to be hindered by the new coursework, but new enough that nobody really knows him. He also has the same teacher as I do for homeroom, which means we are supposed to spend the next four years of our high school together. If I were to describe him, I’d say just picture him as a tall Asian guy with pretty unkempt hair and glasses; he’s pretty quiet, so naturally, not a lot of people expect much from him. This happens on the first day he joins our homeroom, the first time the teacher ever met him.)

Teacher: *slamming contract down in front of [New Student] while he’s scrolling through his phone* “I won’t allow any students of mine to use those worthless pieces of plastic in my class. You’re going to sign this contract. Read over it carefully, and if you break any parts of it, I will deal out punishments labeled on it as I see fit.”

(Everyone in the room is watching them, waiting to see what will happen. [New Student] signs the contract after barely reading it, before going immediately back to his phone. We can see a vein bulging in the teacher’s temple as she forces the contract in front of [New Student]’s phone screen.)

Teacher: *barely managing to keep it together* “Did you not read the contract?”

New Student: *just puts the contract back on the desk* “I did.”

Teacher: *tries to take the phone out of [New Student]’s hand* “Then give me the phone. You signed a contract stating that you wouldn’t use a phone in class, and since you’re using it, I’m going to have to confiscate it; you can have it back at the end of the day.”

New Student: *not even looking up, but wrenches the phone back* “Well, technically, contracts signed by a minor are not legally binding, so… yeah.”

(We could literally hear a pin drop in the silence that follows. The moment the teacher furiously leaves the classroom, we all sort of just crowd around [New Student] and congratulate him for standing up to the teacher that way.)

Student: “Is that true, that contracts signed by minors aren’t legally binding?”

New Student: *still scrolling through his phone* “Yep.”

(The whole class basically starts worshipping him at this point. Fast forward a few minutes: the teacher comes back with the principal and two security guards.)

Teacher: *points at [New Student], who is still scrolling through his phone* “There! That’s the student who disrespected me!”

Principal: “Calm down, [Teacher]. Let me handle this.” *kneels in front of [New Student], who looks up at him* “Hey. You’re the new kid, right?”

New Student: *nods*

Principal: *gestures towards [Teacher]* “Well, I just received a report from your teacher that you were being very disrespectful towards her in class today. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

New Student: *shrugs* “She made me sign a contract stating that I wasn’t to use my phone in her class, but since contracts signed by minors aren’t legally binding, I don’t have the follow said contract.”

Principal: *blinks before standing up* “I see.”

Teacher: “See?! He admits it!”

Principal: *to [Teacher]* “Well, technically, he’s right, so–“

Teacher: *screeching* “WHAT?”

(Cue the unpredictability mentioned earlier. [Teacher] went BALLISTIC, pounding desks with her hands and throwing chairs around. Security quickly restrained her and escorted the students out of there. The principal immediately fired her. She was signed up for anger management classes… for obvious reasons. As for [New Student], he got a detention, since he was technically disrespecting the teacher, but recently, I’ve found out he is going to a law school, so kudos for him.)

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