Unfiltered Story #67036

Unfiltered | December 16, 2015

(This is a story I share with people when they have a bad customer. The event occurred in 2010, it should be noted that I have been working for this company for three years by this point)

Me: Hi, what can I do for you?

Grandmother: Two children to [12A film].

Me: (to the girls) Could you girls tell me your dates of birth please?

Girl: 1999!

Me: I’m sorry ma’am, but they cannot go in alone, she can’t be older than 11 and must be 12 to go in unaccompanied by someone over 18.

Grandmother: But she’s 12.

Me: She’s just told me she was born in 1999, so she can’t be older than 11.

Grandmother: She started high school this year, of course she is 12.

Me: Ma’am, with all due respect I started secondary school at 11 and turned 12 the following summer.

Grandmother: I am a teacher! How dare you contradict me! You need to learn how to treat your customers young lady! I demand to see your manager!

(I call the manager down, by now, she’s accusing me of having an attitude problem, but I go to serve others while my manager takes her to another till on the stand, ringing her up for a U rated film)

Grandmother: You need to teach your staff to serve properly, the customer is always right!

Manager: I’m sorry ma’am, but that’s not always true.

(Later, I see the manager again and we talk about it)

Me: You know, I really was fighting the urge to tell her my mother is a maths teacher.

(I share this story over dinner a while later, my mother, who teaches Maths and engineering at a local sixth form college, commented that this woman clearly never noted her students’ dates of birth)

Unfiltered Story #27949

Unfiltered | December 16, 2015

I’m walking back up to home after getting something to eat from down the street. Where I live there’s a little area with restaurants and a small grocery shop, and there’s a roundabout nearby that. No one is allowed to park in the roundabouts, for obvious reasons, but I see a black Jeep doing just that.

I’ve seen this guy before. I decide to take a picture of the Jeep and the liscense plate. I don’t think there’s anyone inside, but it’s already evening, and the Jeep’s Windows are tinted darkly. NOTE: I live by a campus.

Man in the Jeep: *has an Australian accent* What’s the problem?! I’m just trying to kiss my wife!

Me: *calmly* It’s just that this isn’t a parking space.

Man: I don’t see a red line!

Me: Doesn’t matter. It’s not a parking space.

Man: What are you, the Student Police?

I scoff at his last remark and just walk off. I’ve told others about this, and they said I did the right thing. I’m thinking of showing the picture of his Jeep I took to someone who works on campus and has a say in these things. It just really annoys me that people can be so rude and ignorant, but it also helps me treasure the people who aren’t like this. Sometimes negative interactions with people can help you really enjoy positive ones.

Unfiltered Story #47647

Unfiltered | December 16, 2015

The drive from my daughter’s school is fairly long. This year, after having been on the road for about twelve hours, we stopped for dinner. She was fairly zombie-like by the time our food arrived.

Daughter: *lets out a huge burp*

Me: *pointed look*

Daughter: You’re welcome. *a puzzled look passes over her face* I think I meant excuse me.

Unfiltered Story #32220

Unfiltered | December 15, 2015

(I’m working as a temporary agency worker in a nursery school, working in the ‘1-3’ room towards the end of my shift. It’s near the end of my shift so I’ve tuned out a tiny bit and am sitting watching the kids, chatting to one of them who’s in the question stage.)

Kid: What’s your daddy’s name?

Me: It’s [name].

Kid: Is your daddy gonna come to pick you up?

Me: No, I’m too old so I go home by myself now.

Kid: Are you old?

Me: Yes, I’m very old (note I’m 24 but that’s old to a 2 year old)

Kid: Is your daddy old?

Me: Yes, daddy is very old.

Kid: (straight faced) Is your daddy dead?

Me: …

Unfiltered Story #67035

Unfiltered | December 15, 2015


While working retail in college, I managed a department, and while I still cared enough, I wore the company shirt with a name tag. Even thus attired, and while dragging around pallets and stocking shelves, I was still frequently asked if I worked there. I had to dream up different responses:

Q: Excuse me, do you work here?
A: No, I work at Wal-Mart, and I’m here as an industrial spy.

Q: Excuse me, do you work here?
A: No, I just have nowhere else to go.

Q: Excuse me, do you work here?
A: No, but they keep paying me, so don’t tell anyone…

Q: Excuse me, do you work here?
A: No, the judge gave me this for my community service..