Sounds Like A Supervillain Origin Story, Part 2

, , , | Related | December 20, 2020

I’ve been invited to my boyfriend’s place for dinner. I’ve met his mom before but not his father or brothers. I arrive a bit before dinner and see a scene of carnage. The parents are out, and the younger brother is throwing a tantrum.

I’ve been warned that he has anger management issues and severely destructive tantrums, but I always assumed my boyfriend was exaggerating. He wasn’t. In fact, he was understating.

For the record, my boyfriend and I are nineteen, his older brother is twenty, and his younger brother is ten.

Boyfriend: “Hey, [My Name]! Glad you could make it.”

He nonchalantly dodges a thrown book without even looking.

Boyfriend: “Sorry for the mess. [Younger Brother] isn’t allowed to play on his phone.”

He shields me from a thrown pillow.

Boyfriend: “So he’s throwing a tantrum.”

He stops a rolling trash bin with his foot.

Boyfriend: “Literally.”

The oldest brother catches a thrown book and uses it to deflect another three projectiles. 

Older Brother: “Yeah, just wait until our parents get back. They’ll deal with him.”

He sidesteps a flying pair of scissors.

Older Brother: “Hey, [Younger Brother]! No throwing sharp objects!”

Younger Brother: “F*** you, b****!” 

He throws more stuff at us.

I’m rather stunned, but we sit down on the sofa and begin making small talk, the two older brothers utterly nonchalant about the whole thing. They completely protect me from all projectiles, casually blocking and catching anything thrown in our direction, all without really paying attention.

The parents eventually came home and basically let the younger brother off with a slap on the wrist, to the clear disgust of his older brothers.

We then had a pleasant dinner and a really enjoyable time. But the main takeaway I got from the dinner was how used to the younger brother’s tantrums the older duo was that they could defend me without even paying attention. I guess “seen it all” really applies here.

Sounds Like A Supervillain Origin Story

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Maybe They Should Have Jumped The Gun

, , , , | Right | CREDIT: tracibaker328 | December 14, 2020

I work in a hotel. It’s a hundred-room property where I work as the sole employee on my shifts.

Our property has been a bit busier than usual because there have been widespread power outages after a nasty ice storm in town. This weekend, we are about packed full.

One of the guests is a homeless man whose room is being paid for by a local nonprofit.

This guest was a s***ty guest before this incident. He and his party would not wear masks on the property despite being repeatedly asked. His room received several noise complaints, and there was a lot of suspicious activity in and out of the room. Despite this, my general manager refused to kick them out.

But then, one night, the guest gets drunk and discharges a firearm off his balcony.

Several other guests freak out, complain, etc. But the worst of it is that a twenty-five-room group reservation wants to check out four days early because they are concerned about the safety of the property. Because of this, as well as other guests checking out early, one guest’s drunken gunplay costs our property over $8,000 of revenue that we would have gained from those who checked out early.

That finally got my manager to get rid of him and put him on the do-not-reserve list. I hope he starts listening to the advice of us front desk managers on when to boot someone in the future, but I’m not optimistic.

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These Paramedics Never Cry Uncle

, , , , , | Healthy | December 13, 2020

A friend who used to live on my street moved out rather suddenly and then moved house again quite a bit thereafter. It was a little strange, but eventually, we found out that her parents divorced and the housing situation was a bit screwed up because it’s Australia and our welfare system is a bit… stupid.

Her dad has finally settled into a place more permanently and decides to host New Year’s. My friend invites me along, and despite having not really met that side of her family, I agree to come and join in the festivities.

On arrival, I’m introduced to an uncle who is probably only five to seven years our senior at best and who has been drinking rather heavily since yesterday afternoon. He gets to chatting and we learn that he has only recently recovered from a nasty car accident that shattered his legs. He’s all healed up and ready to celebrate the New Year, loudly proclaiming to all who’ll listen that next year will be his year since everything has gone so wrong in this one. I’m sympathetic to the poor guy; the accident was 100% not his fault and it was a horrendous and intense path to recovery. With a small child in his care, I can only imagine how hard the recovery must have been, so I don’t begrudge his drinking. Out of everyone present, he probably has the best reason to be overindulging, and he isn’t an angry drunk by any stretch of the imagination.

The night wears on, and we are about an hour away from midnight. The local sports grounds is hosting a fireworks display, and from the backyard, we will have a great seat for the show. Suddenly, the drunken uncle staggers over to the trampoline and claps enthusiastically at the kids all doing little tricks. One of those kids asks uncle if he ever did tricks and the uncle puffs with pride and declares that he used to be part of his high school’s gymnastics team. The kids all ooh and ahh in admiration, and it isn’t long before they vacate the trampoline and start coaxing [Uncle] to show them some tricks. Bad idea.

He climbs up and starts to bounce. My friend’s dad rushes over and tries to convince the uncle not to do anything silly, but [Uncle] is too caught up in nostalgia and alcohol to listen to reason and decides that trampolining couldn’t be that much different from doing flips on a gym floor. He then jumps super high and starts a backflip; sadly, he isn’t very well in control of the bounce and the trajectory sends him off the mark and he hits the ground hard. There is a sickening, cracking crunch on impact, the kind of sound that reverberates in your teeth and reminds you of nails on a chalkboard.

The ambulance is called immediately and they arrive extremely quickly. They pull up and rush over to [Uncle], who is still very much in a good mood; apparently, he didn’t feel a thing and has spent the time waiting trying to convince us all he is fine and attempting to stand up. The paramedics assess his injuries and gather information from the surrounding family, hand the poor guy a painkiller, and set up a stretcher. Just as they heave him up to slide the stretcher under his prone form, another horrible crunch is heard, and the paramedics lower him carefully to the ground again. A female paramedic feels about his waist and hips and realises that there is more than likely some pelvic bone damage and asks the host for a set of scissors.

[Uncle] is still happy as a clam and suddenly seems to register that there is a beautiful young lass attending to his pants line and becomes very flirty. The paramedic allows the flirting as uncle isn’t being belligerent and it seems to be keeping him relatively still while my friend’s dad runs for the scissors. 

Uncle: “So, what’s a sweet young thing like you need scissors for? I hope we aren’t doing surgery here.” *Laughs* “Though, if it’s you, I guess I wouldn’t mind so much. You’re lovely!”

Female Paramedic: *Laughs* “Oh, no need to worry, sir. No surgery here in the grass. I just need to see your hips a bit better in case there’s more damage we couldn’t see through your clothes. I hope you’re not attached to these shorts, though; we need the scissors to cut them off.”

[Uncle] suddenly starts blushing madly, and the flirty tone is now a little fearful and embarrassed.

Uncle: “Oh, um… It’s just, well, it’s a rather unpleasant job… that is… would your partner here approve of removing my pants?! And… and there are children here! Oh, God! Someone take the children away; I don’t want to be a flasher!!” 

The male paramedic lost it, and through his laughter, he assured [Uncle] that it wasn’t a problem, that they were both trained professionals, and that the kids would be fine as they weren’t planning to cut them off in full view of spectators. [Uncle] was blushing and stammering objections the entire time as a screen was set up and his pants were removed in moderate privacy. 

Finally, they got [Uncle] loaded into the ambulance. The female paramedic was gathering some last bits of information from the family and organising a support person to ride along with them to the hospital. I couldn’t help but ask if this kind of thing was routine for New Year’s. The paramedic laughed and said that, sadly, it was their busiest time of year, but if it’s for someone like [Uncle], she didn’t mind so much. He’s lovely.

[Uncle] just blushed all the harder and covered himself more with the blankets piled on top of him. It was an exciting New Year’s, that’s for sure, and the timing was brilliant, as the ambulance pulling away coincided with the fireworks starting.

The poor guy had re-shattered the old injuries and done some rather significant damage to both hips and pelvic bone. I think he needed pins and plates, and unfortunately, the recovery was a lot longer this time around. It was not exactly the best way to ring in the New Year, but at least he had wonderful paramedics who possessed a great sense of both humour and duty of care.

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They Should In-Corporate The Number

, , , , , | Right | December 8, 2020

I am working the front at a chain pizza restaurant answering phones. I answer a call, but I can’t hear anything from the other end, so I hang up. Over the next fifteen minutes, the same number calls over and over again, never saying anything. I’ve been answering other calls, so I know the problem isn’t on our end; I just figure they are having issues.

After about twenty calls, my manager, thinking it might be a prank caller, calls the number back.

Caller: “I was going to place an order, but since I couldn’t get through, I decided to order from another store.”

Nearly ten minutes later, he calls us once again. This time, I can hear him perfectly and he wants to place an order. I put him on hold.

Me: *To the manager* “Do you want me to take the order?”

She gets on the phone.

Manager: *Politely* “We will not be taking your order because it seems too suspicious. Please have a good night.” *Hangs up*

For the next forty-five minutes, the customer and his friends blow up our phones with call after call. They demand the number for our corporate office and all our names, and they threaten to come and find us. We’re not allowed to give out corporate’s number; instead, we can only give them the number to our automated service. We start auto-rejecting the calls and they eventually stop calling.

Around five minutes after the calls stop, four men come barging in through our front door. Each of these men is nearly six feet tall and built like linebackers. The only people they spoke to on the phone were my manager and me. Both of us are females in our early twenties and I overshadow my 5’3” manager by a whole two inches.

They march up to the counter and begin banging their fists.

Customers: “Corporate’s number. Now!”

My manager locks the side door so they can’t get back into the kitchen and counter.

Manager: “I’m calling the police.”

Customers: *Crossing arms* “Do it.”

So she does.

Manager: “There are four men in my lobby punching the counter, yelling at my employee, and threatening us.”

Customers: “Yeah, tell them we have guns, too.”

Of course, my manager told the police exactly what he said, and four cruisers pulled up within three minutes. 

The men were escorted outside to be questioned and one officer stayed inside to question us. While I was talking to the officer, a woman walked into the store and he stepped to the side so I could help her. She slammed her fist on the counter and demanded corporate’s number. I sighed and told the cop that she was with the men outside. She was removed, as well.

Since they were the ones who said they had guns, their licenses were run; one of them had a warrant out and was arrested on the spot. The other four were asked to leave and not come back.

For a while, they tried to get people to boycott our store — they claimed racism because of the man who was arrested — and even went as far as to get on a radio show. Nothing came of this because they couldn’t get anyone on their side.

My manager and I did not get into any trouble. Of course, our corporate office wouldn’t let us discuss our side with anyone and their number was placed all over the store to give out when necessary.

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Being This Stupid IS Illegal!

, , , , | Legal | December 7, 2020

I have worked with this convenience store chain for about six years, and boy, have I seen a lot of stupidity, but this one really takes the cake.

We all have our home base store. It’s usually the store where we receive all our initial training, and when you’ve proven to be somewhat decent at your job, other stores will add you to their call list for covering sick or holidaying workers.

I have been called into a store I have only worked in a couple of times before, and I am not looking forward to it. The managers don’t like me and the employees treat me like I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth, all because the store I originally started at has a reputation for being snooty. But, a job is a job, so I grit my teeth and agree to come in.

When I arrive, though, the store’s front doors are smashed inward and the service counters look like they’ve barely survived a bomb going off. The manager meets me at the doors and laughs when she sees my expression.

Manager: “Oh, don’t mind the doors; we can still operate. You wouldn’t believe what happened here over the weekend!”

Me: “I’m sure I can’t guess. This side of town is insane on the best of days. So… what happened?”

Manager: “Come on in. We’ll get you clocked in and I’ll explain on the way.”

As I gingerly enter the store, I notice more destruction I didn’t see from the doors: a big section of wall opposite the doors is just gone. It’s been forcibly ripped from the rest of the wall. There’s some serious damage to the floor below with four snapped-off pieces of rebar poking through the concrete below the tiles. It is wrapped with tape and there are makeshift signs surrounding it to keep customers from hurting themselves on it. I vaguely remember that an ATM used to occupy that space and I ask about it on our walk to the office.

Manager: “We had an attempted robbery in the middle of the night; there used to be an ATM there, but it’s been, uh… relocated.”

She starts giggling and ushers me to the back room where the office sits, pointing to a severely damaged ATM that has definitely seen better days. This thing is MANGLED! The screen is spiderwebbed with cracks, the cash dispenser flap has been torn off, the buttons are either missing, jammed in, or scraped to buggery, and the bottom half is somewhat twisted. I stand in shocked silence for a moment or two, just taking in the extent of the damages and wondering how in heck this happened. The assistant store manager then pops her head out of the office and smiles warmly, beckoning us both over to the security screens set up.

Assistant Manager: “She hasn’t told you what happened yet, right?”

Me: “Umm, no, not yet. Just that it was an attempted robbery.”

Manager: “I haven’t given away the juicy bit, no. Go on and play the tape.”

The security footage shows a group of four young adults or older teens, all dressed in hoodies and masks, ramming the front doors in at speed with a stolen four-wheel drive. The vehicle makes short work of the doors but the momentum carries them into the service counter where the car’s bonnet manages to jam itself under the counter ledge. The next few minutes shows the robbers trying in vain to wrench the vehicle back out, but it is stuck tight. They leave. The footage is wound forward about fifteen minutes or so, and they are back with another stolen vehicle; this time it’s a four-door family sedan.

They drive the car straight through the doorway, past the stuck four-wheel drive, and three robbers disembark. One goes to the front to keep lookout, the other two pull a big, heavy-duty chain from the boot of the car and proceed to wrap it around the ATM.

The next ten minutes is of the car trying its darndest to pull the ATM from the wall, but due to the rebar in the floor, the ATM isn’t budging. They start ramming it with the car until the wall blows out and the ATM is now free-standing.

The manager and assistant manager are in tears, stifling their laughter by this point, and I’m just mesmerised by the footage. It almost looks like a low-budget, boganised version of a “Three Stooges” episode.

Finally, the ATM breaks free of its foundation and the car is able to drag it through the store, out the busted doors, and into the carpark. We switch cameras to the outside and continue the show. The robbers are all whooping and congratulating each other on a job well done; without audio we can’t hear them, but the gestures and the jumping around is easy enough to interpret.

Then, the lookout, whom I had almost forgotten about, runs back into frame, pointing behind him and looking agitated. The robbers all look in that direction and become frantic. The ATM is quickly — and decidedly ungracefully — loaded into the back seats, but in their haste, none of them close the door properly. The car does a celebratory burnout and donut in the car park as the flashing lights of a police car become visible on the camera facing the far end of the carpark. The ATM flies straight out the unsecured car door and the would-be robbers fly out of the carpark without anything to show for their heist.

I dissolve into a fit of laughter alongside the managers and it takes about twenty minutes for us to stop. With tears in our eyes and a new friendly rapport between us, we all go out to the ATM’s old location to let me get a proper look at the damage.

It is pretty impressive; the store really shouldn’t be operating, but the new owner of the franchise is singularly money-focused and demanded the store continue business as usual. Customers are all gawking, as well. I turn to look out the front doors, following the tire marks’ progress, when I see a group of young adults or older teens hovering in the doorway, pointing at the damages and laughing. 

They were arrested shortly thereafter. The idiots had not only returned to the scene of the crime, but all of them were wearing the same outfits they had on during the robbery! Sadly, I didn’t get to work in that store again, but the management was friendly from then on out. It’s amazing what can bring employees and upper management together.

It was a shift I will never forget and a story worth its weight in gold, unlike the ATM. Apparently, once enough damage is done to a machine, it locks itself down and you cannot get into its money cache without a very specific tool only the owners of the machine itself have in their possession. Even if they hadn’t left the door open in their getaway scene, the ATM would have been worthless to them!

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