Forced To Question Their Behavior

, , , , , | | Learning | June 1, 2019

(This takes place in a US Government class. Whenever our teacher is absent, he leaves instructions for us to do some questions from our textbooks. Today, however, we have a substitute who is notorious through our school for being bossy, smug, and generally rude to the students.)

Substitute: “All right, Mr. [Regular Teacher] left me instructions for you to do [questions] in the textbook. Bring them to me at the end of the period.”

([Classmate #1], a very withdrawn but smart kid, finishes his questions in fifteen minutes and takes them up to the substitute. My desk is right next to the teacher’s desk, so I can hear the conversation clearly.)

Classmate #1: “Here are the questions.”

Substitute: *not even looking at the paper* “Why are you lying to me?”

Classmate #1: “Excuse me?”

Substitute: “There is no way you completed all those questions in fifteen minutes. Go back to your desk and finish them.”

([Classmate #1] goes back to his desk. Since we’re only fifteen minutes into an hour-and-a-half period, he gets out a journal and starts writing. After about a minute, the substitute gets up from the desk and storms over to him.)

Substitute: *almost shouting* “What are you doing?”

Classmate #1: “Um… I’m writing.”

Substitute: “I told you to finish the questions! Give me that!” *snatches journal out of [Classmate #1]’s hands*

Classmate #1: “I already finished the questions! And that’s mine!”

(He tries to grab his journal, but the substitute SLAPS him. The entire class has gone silent by now.)

Substitute: *with a smug smile* “It’s mine now. This is what happens to students who don’t do their work.”

(The substitute tears a handful of pages out of the journal and rips them to shreds. [Classmate #1] roars, leaps from his desk, and PUNCHES the substitute in her stomach and her face!  The substitute backs away, one hand on her stomach, and another on her face.)

Substitute: “YOU LITTLE S***! I’LL HAVE YOU EXPELLED!”

(The substitute runs from the room, and [Classmate #1] kneels on the floor and starts to cry. A few of us, myself included, try to comfort him. A few minutes later, the substitute returns with an administrator in tow. She points at [Classmate #1].)

Substitute: “That’s him! He refused to do his work, swore at me, and assaulted me!”

Administrator: “[Classmate #1], is this true?”

([Classmate #1] is still crying, so I speak up.)

Me: “No. No, it’s not. [Classmate #1] did his work, but Ms. [Substitute] wouldn’t accept it, and she slapped him and tore up his journal when he tried to write in it.”

(The rest of the class speaks up against the substitute.)

Substitute: “YOU LYING—”

Classmate #2: “I recorded the whole thing!”

(The substitute went pale, and the administrator reviewed the recording. He ordered the substitute to the office, and asked [Classmate #1] if he’d like to go to the nurse. They all left, and we didn’t see [Classmate #1] until the next class, when he thanked us for standing up for him. We later learned that the substitute was banned from ever teaching in a school again!)

The “Pet” Has A Project

, , , , , , | | Right | May 29, 2019

A new hire, who was a total brown-noser, quickly got promoted to manager and developed a god-complex with the younger staff. I am 6’2″ and 205 pounds and am a former amateur kick-boxer and wrestler; I also have epilepsy and Asperger’s.

The manager used to go out of her way to make things difficult for me on several occasions, even going so far as to have her friends come in and make up fake complaints about me or verbally abuse me.

One such friend came in and called me over from a till — which I’m not supposed to leave — and she told me loudly to go over to their friend who then proceeded to verbally abuse me.

I just stood there and let the “big man” rant and rave — the guy can’t have been more than about 5’8″ and 130 pounds. As he finished, I apologised for whatever he’d made up and attempted to go back to my till, at which point he tripped me up. I fell towards a shelf but managed to grab it so I didn’t fall. The guy then proceeded to push me again, at which point I hit him with a right hook and knocked him out as he fell into a floor display.

I proceeded to call the paramedics and police as well as the manager whose “pet” had instigated the situation.

The guy was tended to by the paramedics whilst I was called into the office with the police and the supervisor present who was smiling smugly at me as the manager explained that I was to be fired and arrested. I told her to check the CCTV. The police agreed to this, and the footage showed the restraint I’d had before defending myself. The manager then said I’d still be written up and put on disciplinary action.

Having had enough I said, “You know of my disabilities and can see that I was assaulted first. You’re responsible for providing me with a safe working environment. In the space of an hour, I’ve been assaulted and discriminated against because of my disabilities. The police could be making some arrests now and it wouldn’t be me they’d be arresting. If you so much as write me up, I’ll contact both my union and corporate and let them know what happened here, and they’d fire you just to keep me happy.”

The police walked out, and I followed them a few minutes after because it was the end of my shift. The following day, I noticed that not only had the CCTV tape from the day before conveniently gone “missing,” but there was a write-up on the notice board. I took the sheet down, wrote “I quit” on the back, flipped off the manager and supervisor, and walked across the road to a rival convenience store where I got a new job.

It’s Haircut-And-Dry Anger Issues

, , , , | | Right | May 26, 2019

(I walk into a salon to get my hair cut and am greeted by an enraged, middle-aged man furiously shouting at the woman who cut his hair.)

Customer: “I want my money back! I paid you for a service and you did a s***ty job!”

Stylist: “I’m sorry, sir, but it is not company policy to pay you back with cash. You’ll have to call corporate and they can help you get your money back.”

(The customer is enraged by this statement and begins clenching his fists and shaking all over.)

Customer: “THIS IS BULLS***! I WANT MY MONEY BACK! GIVE ME MY MONEY!”

(The man tries reaching over the counter to grab the woman. He gets part of her shirt but she evades him and grabs the phone to call the police. As the woman walks towards the back on the phone with the police, while being barraged with cuss words from behind her, a young girl — probably 14 to 16 years old — speaks out.)

Young Girl: “You’re so immature! Get over yourself.”

Customer: “What did you say to me, you little b****?”

(He begins to approach the young girl. I should mention that I am the only other male in the shop. It looks like this 40- to 50-year-old man is about to get physical with a little girl, so I decide it is time for me to interject. I get up and stand toe-to-toe with the man.)

Me: “I have to ask you: do you have kids?”

Customer: *trembling with rage* “Yes, I do. Why?”

Me: “Because if you were my dad, and I saw you walk in here and disrespect all these women like this and try to get physical with them, I would be beyond disappointed.”

Customer: *with his fists clenched and a violent look on his face* “…”

Me: “You’ve clearly had a terrible day. I can tell because no one gets this upset about a haircut. I mean, look at you. You’re shaking with adrenaline and it looks like you were about to hit a young girl.”

Customer: “I… I’m just worked up.”

Me: “How about this? Just think about your kids, man. How upset will they be to hear that their dad had to spend the night in jail because he got upset over a haircut? I know you don’t want that image of you in your wife and kid’s minds.”

(His fists unclench, but he’s still shaking. He raises his hand up to me — I get ready to block a punch — and puts it on my shoulder.)

Customer: “You’re a good kid.”

(He began to walk out the door but was greeted by two local police officers who put him in handcuffs. I then had the most interesting haircut of my life, which consisted of a grateful, teary-eyed woman cutting my hair and a police officer asking me questions.)

Parents Are (Pea)Nuts!

, , , , , , , | | Right | May 22, 2019

(At our store, there is an open bin of salted peanuts, still in the shell, that you can scoop into bags. As I am finishing up with a round of stocking, I notice a kid holding himself up over the edge of the bin, grabbing peanuts, licking the salt off the outside, then dropping them back into the bin. I immediately hurry over.)

Me: “Hey, bud. I need you to get down from there. You can’t be licking the peanuts; you don’t know how many people have been touching them with dirty hands before you.”

Kid: “Eww!”

(He hops down, and I start reaching for a bag so I can try to scoop out the contaminated nuts as best I can. Then, I feel a hand on my arm which yanks me backward. I turn, just in time to duck away from a swatting hand. There is a lady standing behind me, looking livid.)

Woman: “How dare you?! Who gave you the right to talk to my son like that?”

Me: “Ma’am, he was licking the peanuts, which is unhygienic and a health hazard. He can’t…”

Woman: *red-faced* “GET ME YOUR MANAGER!”

(She tries to swing at me again, and I duck backward. One of the managers from the deli comes hurrying up.)

Manager: “What’s the matter? What’s going on here?”

(I speak up before the woman can shout some more.)

Me: “This lady is upset that I told her child to stop licking the peanuts.”

(The manager’s face screws up in a look of distaste.)

Manager: “Yuck.”

(The woman let out a wordless scream and dragged her son towards the front of the store, leaving her cart behind. I ended up putting it away after scooping the top layer of peanuts into bags to be written off.)

A Regular Hero

, , , , | | Legal | May 18, 2019

(I’m working the counter at a fairly popular café. It’s the afternoon and it’s surprisingly busy for our store. Besides me, there are two other people in the store: a regular customer and her boyfriend of three months. The regular is a short, very sweet girl, an extreme pacifist, and generally a very pleasant person to talk to. She’s been coming to the store for as long as I’ve been hired, and we’re close enough that we talk all the time through text. She’s one of my closest friends. Her boyfriend is a giant dude with piercings in his right ear and a long Mohawk that he’s dyed bright neon green. He looks like a classic “punk” and honestly looks like he could throw a coffee machine across a room if he wanted to. The regular, on the other hand, is pretty much a classic “schoolgirl” type person. She brought him in to meet me, and for a date, so they both seem really nice. They chose a small table with metal chairs at the end of the bar, and the girl is looking in my direction as this goes down. A middle-aged man walks into the empty café and stands by the bar in front of me.)

Me: “Hello, sir, welcome to [Café]. What can I get for you today?”

Man: “Oh, just my regular—“ *shifts his hand out of his hoodie pocket to show me a rather large knife* “—and don’t talk to those two while you’re getting it; I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

Me: *glances at the regular and the boyfriend* “Of… of course, sir.” *opens the register with a rather loud clack — they tend to slam open if we don’t catch them*

(The regular looks up from her drink, looking confused at the loud noise. The boyfriend doesn’t look up from his phone.)

Me: “And will that be for h-here or to go, s-sir?”

(I notice the regular stand up really slowly from her chair, and the boyfriend looks away from his phone to look at her.)

Man: “To go, obviously. I just told you I was in a hurry. Get it out here already.”

Me: “Right, sorry…”

(I notice the regular wrapping her hands around the back of her chair, and the boyfriend is leaning forward slightly, like he plans on getting up. I’ve collected all the larger bills in my hand and I’m starting to reach over the counter to hand it to the man.)

Me: “Here’s your change, s—“

Regular: “HAH!”

(Both I and the man looked towards the regular and her boyfriend in surprise, just in time for the regular’s metal chair to crash into to man, throwing him to the floor and making him drop his knife. The regular had thrown the heavy metal chair right over her boyfriend’s head and into the man who had been attempting to rob us. This and the chair stunned the man long enough for her boyfriend to run over and keep the man pressed to the floor until the police arrived. This regular is pretty well known among the employees now, and I have yet to see anything else that could possibly top how stunned I was to this day.)

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