Working In A Toxic Environment

, , , , , | | Legal | June 7, 2019

(I work in a very rural county where there are only one high school and two stop lights, and the main highway that leads to a city across the Virginia state line runs through the middle of town and past the sheriff department. It’s one of those ‘everyone knows everyone’ kind of Southern towns. It is an early Sunday morning; a state trooper is finishing up a report at our desk from an earlier accident while I am processing a public intox just brought in by a deputy.)

Dispatch: “Communications to any unit in [Town]?”

Deputy: “Go ahead, Communications.”

Dispatch: “[Deputy], EMS [Truck #2] advises they are behind a wrong-way driver heading into town.”

(The driver is all over the roadway and has nearly run off the road multiple times. It’s a possible DWI. The deputy and trooper practically run towards the door. While our county may be rural, the highway is frequented by big rigs and the occasional wayward livestock this late at night.)

Deputy: “Communications, I’ll be in route with [Trooper].”

Dispatch: “10-4, EMS has lights and sirens on, but the driver is not slowing down.”

(The two run out the door just as my coworker comes into the office.)

Coworker: “Oh, boy, DWI?”

Me: “Yup, going the wrong way down the highway.”

(Not even a half-hour later the two return, along with the patrol sergeant, and in between them they are escorting an intoxicated woman.)

Woman: “I swear I’m not drunk!”

Patrol Sergeant: “Ma’am, you just drove nearly five miles the wrong way, flew through a red light, and almost ran over one of my deputies!”

Woman: “Oh, he’s okay. Besides, I only had one shot.”

Trooper: “Ma’am, you blew twice the legal limit.”

Woman: “Okay, so it was more than one shot of gin.”

Coworker: “Oooh, she’s in so much trouble!”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Coworker: “Her mama is a minister at the church down the street. She’s gonna get it.”

Exposing Himself As Being THAT Type Of Customer

, , , , , , | | Right | June 7, 2019

(I work at a major video game store where we handle a lot of used products. This includes taking in products, and the law considers us a pawn shop. It is within my first three months on the job. A father and son walk up to my register.)

Me: “Hey, guys, how can I help you today?”

Father: “My son would like to trade in this game.”

(I go through the standard procedure of looking through the cases to ensure there are discs and checking the quality of them. They are older games for a less popular console, and they are in quite bad shape, but we can give him something for them.)

Me: “Okay, that will be $8.45 on a gift card. I just need to see a piece of ID.”

Father: *yelling* “What?! I didn’t need to show ID last time I traded games in! I just did it!”

Me: “I am sorry, sir, but the law states that I need a piece of ID to take the trade-in or I cannot complete the transaction.”

(Now the assistant manager, who is working beside me, steps in.)

Manager: “Sorry, but [Company] cannot take your trades without a piece of ID; it’s both our company policy and the law.”

Father: *throws the ID at me* “Here, take the f****** ID!”

(The customer is now yelling very loudly and angrily in another language.)

Manager: *grabs the ID off the table while I stand shocked* “You do not throw things at my employees, and you do not treat either me or him with this behaviour in my store. Now get out.” *puts the ID with the games and puts them on the counter*

Father: *calming down slightly* “Okay, my friend. I am sorry, my friend.”

(He hands me the games with the ID nicely. His son, meanwhile, is in tears beside him; I assume it is out of fear or shame.)

Me: “O-okay.”

(I quickly wrote down the information we required and returned the gift card with a receipt. As they were leaving the store, the father turned around and pulled his pants and underpants down, exposing himself to not only the two of us that were working, but also to the customers we had in the store, including multiple younger children and his own son. Unluckily for him, we had the entire event caught on two different cameras and had all his information from his ID. My assistant manager called the police. I don’t think they had much trouble.)

They Don’t Give You A Badge For That

, , , , , | | Right | June 6, 2019

(I am a senior patrol leader in my Boy Scout troop, which basically means that I am responsible for almost everything in the troop. We have been having a standard meeting until I notice a woman with her daughter, around 17 or so, come into our meeting place. I think that they are simply the parents and sibling of one of our members, so I think nothing of it until the meeting closes and everyone packs up to go home.)

Woman: *marches over to me* “I want my daughter to join your Boy Scout troop.”

Me: *flabbergasted* “Wait, what? You–“

Woman: “Exactly what I said. I want my daughter to join your Boy Scout troop.”

Me: “Um, I don’t think that is physically possible unless you know, your child gets, I don’t know, a gender switch?”

Woman: “What?”

Me: “You know, when someone doesn’t want to be a specific gender and they want to change—“

Woman: “I know exactly what a gender switch is, but that was nothing to do with that. I just want my daughter to join your Boy Scout troop.”

Me: *completely done by this point* “Uh, you know what the ‘Boy’ in ‘Boy Scout’ stands for, right?”

Woman: *blank stare*

Me: “Miss, are you—“

Woman: *irate* “This is unacceptable. I demand to see your superior.”

Me: “Uh, sure.”

(I call over my scoutmaster. The woman is absolutely nuts at this point, tearing her own hair and hitting the walls while my scoutmaster tries to calm her down. I start packing up my own things so I can go home.)

Woman: *screaming now* “THIS IS SEXIST. I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU WON’T LET MY DAUGHTER JOIN YOUR BOY SCOUT PATROL!”

(My scoutmaster is a retired Marine and is very proficient in martial arts.)

Woman: *SWINGS at my Scoutmaster* “LET MY DAUGHTER JOIN! LET MY—“

(My scoutmaster instinctively blocks the attack and, after a quick tussle, ends up on top of her while pinning her arms underneath her, making it impossible for her to move. Everyone is staring at her. One of the parents, who is a cop, walks over.)

Cop Parent: “All right, [Scoutmaster], no need to strain your back. I got it from here.”

Me: *to the 17-year-old girl* “Was she actually serious?”

Girl: “Yeah, she thought I was useless around the house despite being the only one in our family working, so she wanted me to join Boy Scouts. What a f****** moron.”

(Best part? The girl and I realized we went to the same high school and we started hitting it off. The second best part? When the woman showed up to court for attempted assault and disturbance of the peace, her daughter said, in front of her, “Frankly, she was always overzealous about other’s actions, but never considered her own. Personally, I think she deserves it.”)

That Went Down Like A Lead Balloon

, , , , | | Right | June 6, 2019

(I work at a local grocery store. My job is usually handing out samples of products, and today there is a new brand of cookies we will be stocking in our bake shop. My sample table consists of a tray of the product and some pamphlets about it. Behind the table, about ten feet high, taped to a wall, are large custom refillable balloons that have our store logo and “SAMPLES” written on them that we use to bring attention to the sampling table. I’ve run out of product and have gone to fetch a few more packages. Upon my return, I see a man, standing on top of the sample table, ripping the balloons from the wall.)

Me: “Sir! Please get down from there!”

Customer #1: “What? I’m just getting my kids some balloons!”

Me: “Those balloons are not for sale, they’re for display.”

Customer #1: “Well, how the f*** am I supposed to know that?!”

Me: “They’re attached to a wall, above customers’ reach! Now, please get down off the table!”

(The customer jumps down off the table, causing it to snap in half. My manager comes over to the area. A nearby customer, [Customer #2], walks over, as well.)

Manager: “[My Name]! Are you okay? What happened!”

Me: “I’m fine, this customer—“

Customer #1: *interrupts* “She put those balloons too high for me to reach! I could have been killed trying to get them! Then she yelled at me!”

Customer #2: “Sir, I saw the whole thing. This young lady wasn’t rude or anything; she was only telling him to get off that table. He was standing on it, pulling down that display. He broke the table when he jumped off.”

Manager: *to [Customer #1]* “Is that true, sir?”

Customer #1: “I just wanted some f****** balloons!”

Manager: “Those balloons were clearly not for sale, and you’ve damaged both them, and this table. You’ll need to pay for the damages you’ve caused.”

Customer #1: “Fine!” *throws a dollar at my manager*

Manager: “Sir, the table is $100 and those balloons are $15 each, and you’ve ruined three of them.”

Customer #1: “THAT’S LIKE A HUNDRED AND FIFTY F****** DOLLARS! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! I’M NOT PAYING THAT!”

Manager: *sternly* “Well, then we’ll just have to have you arrested for destroying store property.” *takes out his phone*

Customer #1: “No, wait. Don’t call the cops; I’ll pay!”

(After going to the back to do the money and paperwork, my manager then comes back over to me.)

Manager: “You handled everything perfectly. Good job.”

Me: “Thank you.”

Manager: “Go next door to [Hardware Store] and get a new table. When you get back, I think we’ll have an employee pizza day!”

Wrong Number, Wrongest Attitude

, , , , , , , | | Right | June 6, 2019

(The phone rings.)

Me: “[Store], [My Name] speaking.”

Customer: “Sorry, I wanted [Competitor].” *hangs up*

(About a minute later, the phone rings again.)

Me: “[Store], [My Name] speaking.”

Customer: “Argh, I wanted [Competitor]!” *hangs up*

(Less than a minute later, the phone rings again.)

Me: *sigh* “[Store], [My Name] speaking.”

Customer: “F***, why can’t I get [Competitor]?”

Me: “Well, if you keep calling the same number, you’re going to keep getting the same store.”

Customer: “But this is the number I was given!” *hangs up*

(Seconds later, the phone rings again.)

Me: “[Store]—“

Customer: *cuts me off* “F***, if you say you’re [Store] again, I’m going to come down there and kill you.”

Me: *pauses* “Yeah, I still work for [Store], and I should tell you that as soon as we are done here, I will be forwarding your phone number to the police. Have a nice day.” *hangs up*

(I called the police immediately after. It turns out he had a long history of making threats, and was currently out on bail for a similar charge. I’m guessing it was revoked.)

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