Unfiltered Story #56735

USA | Unfiltered | February 18, 2016

Earlier last year, I was struck by a car while in a crosswalk. I came out of it none the worse for wear, though I managed to break my leg, leaving me in a cast for close to three months while various parts of the bone and tendons finally healed. I managed to get around pretty well on crutches, but sometimes this would get tiring when I’d go shopping. This little incident happened at one of the local grocery stores.

Heading in with my friend to pick up some much needed things around the house, I took one of those mobility scooters, and placed my crutches where I could get to them. With that done, I headed into the store to do the shopping. I’d put five or six things in the basket, when I was approached by a young clerk, and this rather large (obese) woman.

Clerk: You’re going to have to get out of the chair.

Me: Uh…why?

Clerk: That’s for people who are disabled, this lady needs it.

Me: Then she can get one out front. I can’t exactly walk…

Clerk: I don’t care. (at this point he starts moving my stuff into a buggy, and reaches for my crutches.

Me: Almost in tears. “I can’t walk mate. I’m in a cast…”

Clerk: I don’t give a damn. You need to get out.

The woman had this smug look on her face the whole time, even as I manhandled my cast over and struggled up onto the crutches. I was in tears by that point. Leaving the cart where it was, I hobbled up front, passing my friend on the way. He sees me upset, and ‘walking’ so he wants to know what’s going on. I tell him we need to see the manager right then and there, but won’t explain.

Manager comes out of his office, sees me upset and quickly helps me into a chair, wanting to know what’s wrong and if he needs to call EMT services or something for me. I explain to him why I’m upset, what happened, and how I can’t shop there any longer.

To put it simply, he was LIVID. He quickly called the clerk up front and said:

Manager: I want your side of this. Now, let me get this straight. Did you eject this customer, who obviously has a broken leg, from a mobility cart so someone else could ride it?

Clerk: It’s a fa…

Manager: I want a yes or no answer.

Clerk: But…fine. yeah. So what? he can walk.

Manager: Walk? Oh you mean hobble around in pain? Yeah I suppose he can do that. You’re going to be walking too. You’re fired, now gather your crap and I don’t want to EVER see you in my store again. Got it?

The clerk muttered something and sulked out. The manager asked where I’d left my buggy, and if I could identify the woman that took the cart. I did, best I could on both counts. He told me to just rest in the chair with my foot up while he would make things right. His store wasn’t about to be remembered for such behavior. Bout fifteen minutes later, he returned, everything in the cart bagged and told us to take it as compensation for the trouble. Even helped me out to the car. As we left, I noticed the rather large woman sulking outside, complaining that she was disabled, and how dare they bar her from using the mobility carts.

I still shop there regularly, and the manager makes it a point to always ask how I’m doing and if there’s anything I need. I’ve also seen the lady there twice, and both times she was staring rather forlornly at the carts. A sign above them reading “The management reserves the right to remove you from these carts if it is determined you are NOT eligible for them.”

Unfiltered Story #47710

Michigan, USA | Unfiltered | February 18, 2016

(My nephew has recently had a birthday, and he got a bunch of candy.)

Nephew: Auntie, can I have a strawberry cord?

Me: … A what?

Nephew: *raising voice* A strawberry cord!!!

Me: I heard you, I just don’t know what a strawberry cord is.

Nephew: You know. A strawberry cord. From my bag of birthday candy!

Me: *holding up a licorice stick* You mean this?

Nephew: Yeah! A strawberry cord!

Me: Well, I’m never calling it licorice again.

Unfiltered Story #67099

Whitehorse, Yukon, CANADA | Unfiltered | February 17, 2016

An older pick up truck was left at the far end of our parking lot for repair. Apparently it would not start. I was bored so I grabbed the keys & went out to see if I could start it. Why it was left so far way, I have no idea. I didn’t plan on being out for long, so I didn’t bother to put on my coat. -20C? That’s nothing… So I get in, close the door. Slide the key into the ignition and turn it, nothing.
I give it a couple of seconds, and try it again, still nothing. Not a sound. No whirring, no clicking, not even one measly little click. I give up after trying a couple of more times. Only mildly disappointed, I reach for the door handle. The handle flops down as soon as I touch it, broken. No big deal, I reach for the passenger door and pull on that handle. That too falls down.

uh oh…. I look down for the window crank, missing? I look over at the passenger door window crank. That’s missing too. You’ve got to be KIDDING!

The rear passenger window will never move. It has been fixed firmly in place since the day the truck was built. Nope, no sliding hatch at the rear window either. And to top it off, I didn’t bring my phone. Cut off from the entire world, in a parking lot, at work.

Now what? I am at the far end of the parking lot – a good 100 meters away from the store entrance. It is -20, and I am locked in, no coat. The truck is facing away from the store so frantic waving won’t do much good. The windows are starting to fog up and I am starting to feel the cold. If someone even bothers to look from the store into the parking lot and sees the back of the truck, they will not see my head. And with this old worn out bench seat, I can hardly see over the steering wheel, the curse of being 5′ 3”. No one will see me from the back or the front. On my left is a long strip mall, but a huge mountain of snow is in the way, pretty much isolated.

I wonder how long it will take for someone to realize that I have not returned and then how long after that before they start to look for me – will they even try? Hours? Days? Weeks? I start writing my last will and testament in my head (a lot of good that will do).

Finally I see someone driving towards a store over the right side of the hood of the truck. Marks Work Warehouse is OPEN!!! The gentleman gets out of his car, and walks towards the store. He’s only about 50 meters away. I have a bright idea, honk the horn. That will get his attention and of course he will come over & open the door for me. I push on the horn….silence. I push it harder, still nothing. I POUND on the horn. Not even a fart. Whoever said silence was golden got it soooooo WRONG!

Maybe, just maybe, I have been locked up so long that I have gone deaf, or my ear drums are frozen, or this old rust bucket has extremely good sound proofing. The horn HAS to work. I look over to see if he reacts to my frantic pushing on the horn…. nope, no reaction. Apparently the horn doesn’t work, either that or this truck is equipped with an ultra high frequency horn that only dogs can hear. Either way I’m screwed.

Resigned to my fate, I come up with an idea for those that eventually find me. I will make a scratch in the door for every day that I survive in the truck. At least they will know how many days I survived in the wilderness, a mere 50 meters over the right fender from Marks Work Warehouse. The doors are so scratched up already, they probably wouldn’t even notice my survival scratches. When it rains….

I sit there for a few more minutes. It’s probably my imagination, but the air seems to be getting stale. Locked in a dilapidated old pickup truck. Who cares about being embarrassed, I just want OUT!!

Something catches my left eye, beside & behind my left shoulder, no way, duct tape? I look over my left shoulder, with a near perfect shoulder check, and find a thick plastic sheet duct taped over where the back seat side window used to be! YESSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!! Why didn’t I notice that before?

I may not be able to blow bubbles with bubble gum, or swim more than 4 feet at a time, and I don’t weigh enough to operate a skid steer, but I CAN proudly say that I can tear my way through a plastic bag. Oh yeah….. woot… woot….

(okay it took a while – but the plastic was really, REALLY THICK okay?!?!?!)

I squeeze through the slit I made in the plastic window (thankful I weigh less than 130 lbs) drop to the ground head first. It was not the prettiest of exits, but no one knows I am here anyway. Who cares, I am FREE!!!!

I dust some of the snow off my clothes, feel a slight bump on my forehead, no blood. Good!

I feel like I just broke out of prison. I am sure the guilt about ruining a perfectly good plastic ‘n duct tape window will diminish soon… yup gone already, no guilt left at all. Suhweeeet! And I was still clocked in too, NICE!!!

I race back to the shop at least a half hour after I left. Whose bright idea was that anyways?

I learned my lesson. Next time I am bored, I am going to stay put, and just close my eyes. I am never again going to underestimate the value of being bored.

Unfiltered Story #28012

USA | Unfiltered | February 17, 2016

(I’m chatting online with a friend, who’s telling me about how he treated himself to a restaurant for lunch.)

Friend: “My stomach is crying tears of joy and my wallet is crying tears of a wholly different variety.”

Me: “Heh.”

Friend: “Written on back of >25% tip: Please pick one – wonderful server or complete dreamboat. Doing both like that is simply unfair.”

Me: “Aw, you sweetie patoot.”

Friend: “Okay but he was.”

Unfiltered Story #56734

New York, USA | Unfiltered | February 17, 2016

I work as a contractor at a semiconductor plant. The plant, instead of a separate cafeteria and lecture hall, has one large multipurpose area with a kitchen attached. Unfortunately, there are not many areas that can accommodate hundreds of contractors when there is a lecture or other plant-employee-only event going on.

Today is a lecture day, and what few seating areas remaining have already been taken by other contractors. Two coworkers are with me, and we have just come out of the cleanroom area for a coffee/breakfast break. The only place we can sit is a vacant folding table.

Coworker #1: *exasperated* “This place needs a real lecture hall. There’s nowhere to sit down!”

Right on cue, a plant employee approaches the table.

Employee: *cheerfully* “Are you taking donations for the calendars?”

Thinking she is joking, we all chuckle, but she looks expectant and serious. I look at my badge and lanyard – yep, still a contractor.

Coworker #2: “No, we’re just sitting down.”

Employee: *still cheerful, painfully oblivious to the lack of seating available* “Oh, well we could always use more volunteers! We are setting up here!”

Coworker #1: “Everyone else is gathered in [other lobby]…

Coworker #2: *downs his coffee* “I’m going back to the cleanroom. See you up there, [my name]!”

To top it off, the doors to the multipurpose room, which happens to house the company-supplied lunch refrigerators, is guarded whenever there is an event. No one is allowed in.