Unfiltered Story #32815

AZ, USA | Unfiltered | August 23, 2017

(These stories are all about the same teacher, I don’t care how/if they get split up)

As a senior, I took AP Gov and our teacher was renowned for being lax with his students and for not having the best filter. This was even more true with a bunch of kids that understood/retaliated sarcasm. He had a class points system where you would get points based on the percentage of kids in that class that wore purple (our school color) on that Friday (extra points could be received during spirit week). At the end of the semester, whichever class had the most points won some sort of food party. Story #1 takes place on a Thursday

Classmate who often forgot purple: (My name), you should be so proud of me. I have my purple shirt laid out for tomorrow. I washed it and everything!

Teacher (as we are the last two students leaving the room): It better be clean you dirty bastard!

Story #2

This teacher also raffled off donuts to individual students who wore purple on Friday. On this particular day, Justin won a donut and selected a maple glazed cinnamon role

Teacher: Justin, putting that big brown one straight in your mouth!

Justin: You know it!

Me: … Context is everything

Story #3

We were talking about Richard Nixon and got slightly off-topic. Our teacher informed us that on some campaign propaganda, Nixon would use the nickname “Dick”

Teacher: First of all, how the hell do you get “Dick” from “Richard”?

Shy girl, quietly: By asking nicely

Unfiltered Story #28513

Usa | Unfiltered | August 23, 2017

(This isn’t my story but a friends. There had been a couple at her school that where always really lovey Dovey but out of the blue broke up. The guy it VERY anti-LGBT, while the girls family supports LGBTQ rights. This is what occurred at the breakup)

Guy: I heard you support gay marriage.

Girl: ya, so?

Guy: your disgusting I can’t believe you support those *bigoted slurs I bet your one too! I’m breaking up with you that’s disgusting *leaves

Girl: *literally awestruck

(Lets just say that as a drama kid , and high there drama department had skit of LGBT, he didn’t have many friends after that)

Unfiltered Story #91922

, | Unfiltered | August 22, 2017

I work at a very well known big box store, manning a self-check station. For legal purposes, anyone carrying alcohol that appears under a certain age, must present ID. Without it, we are legally allowed to ask for identification and decline sales if the customer does not have it or refuses, both of whom happen a lot, and a lot of complaints are made over our “stupid” rules. One evening, a couple come through my line. The man is carrying a 12 pack of beer while the woman is pushing a shopping cart.

Me: Sir, may I see some identification?

Man: I don’t have it on me. Besides, it’s not for me, but it’s for my wife.

Me: That may be but the law states because you’re holding it, I must see your ID.

Woman: (to man) I told you to bring it in. (to me) you can just ID me. He’s buying it for me.

Me: Again, I understand ma’am but because you are with him, he must show his ID and I cannot allow you to purchase it without it.

Woman: But it’s for me. I mean, I’m just a little bit pregnant so I can drink it. It’s alright. I’m the one buying it.

Instead of further arguing about it, I get my manager, who ends up telling the couple the exact same thing, who huff and leave their cart full of stuff, there, stating they would never be coming back again. I saw them the week after that.

Unfiltered Story #91920

, , | Unfiltered | August 22, 2017

Our theater just got caramel and cheddar popcorn as our ‘gourmet’ popcorn. You can get a single flavor or mixed. It should also be noted that employees are allowed to have a little cup to eat during down times when we aren’t as busy. An older lady bought a single caramel popcorn tub. It should also be noted that she is British, as it comes up later in the story. She comes back about twenty minutes into her movie:
Lady: This caramel corn is rock hard. It hurts my teeth.
My coworker and I have both eaten the caramel corn. It is fresh, and there is no problem with it. It should also be noted that she has eaten about 40 percent of the small tub.
Me: Well my coworker and I have both eaten eat and find it to be acceptable.
Lady: Well its breaking my teeth. Throw it away I don’t want it.
She then heads straight to our manager at guest service. After talking to him he walks over.
Lady: Well, he thinks I’m right. (Very snotty to me)
My manager says nothing about that while doing the whole process. After that he walks back to guest service and my coworker went away, the lady looks right at me
Lady: Just to let you know, in England, the costumer is always right.
I have worked in a fast food restaurant for over a year in highschool. I was working at this theater for about 4 months. (Summer job between college). I have dealt with the stupidest and most idiotic people you could ever imagine. But not one of them has ever made me want to cuss them out until I met this witch. I am a calm person. But that lady had every bit of self righteous on her and I was so close to snapping. I didn’t. But I wish I did.
Me: (Fake big smiling) Oh, Ok.
I ended up having to walk in the back and made my coworker take the next three guest cause I felt like I was going to snap at someone who didn’t deserve it. I stayed calm but salty about the whole experience. Later on our manager walks over to see how we were, and I brought it up.
Me: You shouldn’t have given her that refund on the popcorn.
Manager: Oh I know. The majority of the refunds and resale tickets are stupid and I hate giving them out. But if I don’t they’ll contact corporate, and we’ll get an angry email and have to refund no matter what. I’m just getting rid of the middle man.
I hate that we have to work in a society that encourages bratty and temper tantrum behavior to get free things. It disgusts me. How I wished I snapped back. I would have told her ‘Well in America, we prefer our guests with a bit of common sense. But we aren’t always lucky.’

Unfiltered Story #91918

, , | Unfiltered | August 22, 2017

(my father owns a restaurant up north in Westminster, it’s not a huge place it’s just a small ‘mom and pop’ style tavern that had gotten very popular, especially with bikers whom my dad has become very good friends with. One day while taking inventory he notices that they have far less bread there than they should, he speaks to the head cook who is equally confused to the lack of bread as he said he already put in a delivery order. My father reviews the security feed and sees that the bread was delivered at 8:00 am like it normally is, but roughly half an hour later a bright red pickup pulls up a guy gets out and he loads all the boxes of bread into the back of his truck and drives off. my dad is absolutely livid that someone would do that, because the camera didn’t get the licence plate he put the clip on facebook and asked if anyone knew this guy. Someone responded and gave out the guy’s name, phone number and home address. Instead of calling the police he chose to call the guy first)

father: “okay listen I know you stole my bread, I’ve got you on tape, I know who you are and I know where you live so you’ve got three choices: you can return the bread you stole and we forget about this, I send over the police to arrest you for theft, or I come over there with my biker friends and ‘convince’ you to give it back.”

(there was a brief silence on the line before the guy hung up. My dad, being the tough guy he is, decides to go with option three and confront the guy personally. The next day he drives over there with around four or five burly, tattooed, bikers with huge beards, walks right up to the door and starts pounding away on it)

father: WHERE’S MY F*CKING BREAD?!!!

(he kept this up for about half an hour before he gave up and left, about one week later the barbershop a few stores down from my dad’s restaurant called up and said someone had come by and dropped off all the missing bread, telling them to deliver them to the tavern. You can probably guess who the mysterious person was.)

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