Warning: The Spam Is Airborne

Bosses/Owners/Managers, Convenience Store, Hawaii, Honolulu, Physical, USA, Wild & Unruly, YMMV | Right | May 28, 2026

We’re back at it again with the same store and manager as this story.

Upon seeing the above story get posted to NAR, I decided it was time to go to this store for a visit, and, man, I am convinced that this store is never normal. A bit of backstory first, in Hawaii, we have a food called a Spam Musubi, it’s a brick of rice with a slice of Spam on it, wrapped in seaweed. They are served hot at this store.

This story starts before I arrive and ends with a call to 911.

A female customer is working her way through the store collecting an assortment of items, as people in stores do. Eventually, she gets to the register and puts down her selections, including a fair number of alcoholic products and some hot foods. She then attempted to pay for these items with an EBT or SNAP card.

For those of you who might not be aware, EBT (food stamps) can’t be used to purchase a number of products, including alcohol and foods meant for immediate consumption (hot foods). The employee, who is barely out of high school, smiles as the woman comes up.

Employee: “Hi! Okay, so we’re using EBT? I’ll separate these into two transactions. We’ll do the EBT items first, and then you can pay for the rest with another payment method.”

Customer: “Just EBT all of it, thanks.”

Employee: “Oh, I’m sorry, there are a fair number of items here that aren’t eligible, such as the alcohol and the prepared foods. You’ll need to use another method for those.”

Customer: “Just scan the EBT for them.”

Employee: “I can’t, it’s a legal restriction of the food stamps. There is no way for me to apply an EBT scan to these.”

Customer: “No, you just don’t want to. Just do it.”

Employee: “I can’t, there… There is no physical way for me to enter that into the system.”

Customer: “Just f****** do it.”

Employee: “I really can’t, but I can put the offending items back for you.”

Customer: “Don’t touch my s***! Who the f*** are you to tell me what I can’t use my food stamps on!?”

Employee: “It’s not me, ma’am, it’s a limitation placed by the government entity that issues the—”

Three things happened at once.

I walked into the store. The manager walked out of the back to tag the cashier out and handle the woman herself. The woman picked up a spam musubi from the counter and pitched it directly into the cashier’s face like a baseball, spraying steaming hot rice everywhere as it hit her hard enough to break through the wrapper.

Manager: “OI! OKAY, NOW YOU AND ME ARE GOING TO GET INTO A CON-F***-ULATION YOU C***!”

The manager literally jumps over the counter instead of walking the half foot around it. Meanwhile, I go behind the counter from the other side to check on her staff member who was kneeling behind the counter, yelling, while trying to get rice off her face.

Woman: “F*** YOU! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!?”

She picks up a glass bottle from the counter and whips it at the manager, who catches it and puts it down on the microwave.

Manager: “You’re going to jail. Whether you are conscious or not when the police get here is up to you, b****.”

Something clicked in this woman’s mind and clued her into the fact that she was in a dangerous situation, and she ran for it… badly. She tripped over the magazine rack right next to the door, taking it outside with her, and at this point, it somehow gets tangled in between her legs, and she face plants into the front of a Chevy Silverado in the parking lot.

The Silverado was fine.

The Honolulu Police Department was quick to arrive, along with some EMTs who evaluated both the woman and the employee.

Now covered in sticky rice and teriyaki sauce, the employee decided that… maybe… it was a good idea to go home for the day. My manager friend gave her the keys to her car and told her to go home, wash up, rest, and be back in six hours to pick her up.

Of course, the employee refused several times, but you don’t argue with someone who says things like “con-f***-ulation” for very long, and she eventually accepted the offer rather than taking the bus.

I stayed to help clean up the rice explosion.

Me: “I’d like to come to visit one day and not have something absolutely insane happen.”

Manager: “Not on your life, [My Name].”