Unfiltered Story #32281

Unfiltered | February 18, 2016

(I am in 7th grade and am a little mischievous at times)

Teacher: We are going to watch a movie now class. (My name) will you turn off the lights?

(I do so, but then quietly sneak out of the room. I go to my locker, put on a scream mask and a black cape, and then go sit down in my desk. A few minutes go by when finally…)

Classmate #1: Look at (my name!)

(Everyone starts laughing and talking.

Teacher: (My name) go to the principal’s office.

(I go and get an in school suspension. When the assistant principal called my mom he said he could hardly stop laughing to give me my punishment.)

Unfiltered Story #67100

Unfiltered | February 18, 2016

(A guest is checking out. She is talking loudly to her friend, who’s there with her.)

Me: “Okay thank you for staying with us. You are checked out. Here’s your receipt.”

Guest: *keeps talking to her friend*

Me: *a little louder* “You are all checked out! Thank you!”

(The guest keeps gabbing with her friend and completely ignoring me, no matter how loud I speak. Her friend looks over, but says nothing. FInally, I give up and start eating my breakfast.)

Guest: *looks up at me* “What’s wrong? Am I checked out?”

Friend: “She said that a million times. But you just ignored her.”

Me: *nodding in agreement*

Guest: “Nuh uh! I was jsut talking to you and then next thing I know, she’s eating her food and I’m like, what’s going on?” *scoffs*

(The guest snatches her receipt and storms off. She and her friend kept arguing about it all the way out!)

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Unfiltered Story #28013

Unfiltered | February 18, 2016

(My church choir has a member named Faith, who has a daughter who looks a lot like her. We are goofing off before rehearsal one day, and some of the members are complaining about a difficult piece we are preparing for an important service.)

Member #1: “It’s just so hard! The time signature changes every three measures!”

Member #2: “I know! And everybody has to keep jumping in and out, and singing their parts at different times!”

Member #3: “And that’s not even counting all the instrumentals that we’re going to have to add in! I don’t know, guys. I don’t think we can do this.”

Member #4: “Oh, come on, yes, we can. We’re getting better all the time. Have a little faith!”

Me: “Wouldn’t that be called a [Daughter]?”

(After two seconds of silence, everyone cracks up. For the record, we pulled off the piece very well.)

Unfiltered Story #56735

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.”

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Unfiltered Story #47710

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.