“I Don’t Work Here, Lady”: 30 Satisfying Stories Of Customers Reacting To Being Mistaken For Employees, Shared In This Online Group
It seems that being mistaken for an employee in a shop or a restaurant is a pretty common thing. Even though a lot of such places have work outfits and name tags so there’s less confusion, sometimes these things do not help. Especially when a potential Karen is on her way to yell at someone.
As it turns out, a lot of people have experienced the situation where they were mistaken for an employee. This gave the perfect opportunity for Reddit users to share their best stories in a subreddit called I Don’t Work Here Lady. You’ll be surprised how some people are able to reach new depths of rudeness by yelling at people, accusing them, or even physically assaulting them. Bored Panda already covered a story about customers getting yelled at by other enraged customers, but it seems that with time, these stories only continue to pile up. Even though most of these incidents occur in grocery stores or cafes and restaurants, these “mix-ups” also happen in establishments such as schools and workplaces. So you never know where someone might cause a scene by taking you for someone who you are not actually are. Of course, not every situation that was shared by people ended up with pressed charges; some of them were simple misunderstandings that later became a funny story to tell your friend, or share with the users of Reddit.
Have you ever experienced a similar situation? Share your stories in the comments down below!
More Info: Reddit
This happened several years ago. I was the night time charge nurse over the ICU. I’d just finished a 12 hour shift at my hospital that had turned into a 14 hour shift because of a rapid response right before shift change. (Patient responded well). I was exhausted and had to return for a 4th shift in 9 hours. All I wanted were some items to drop in the slow cooker so I’d have something to eat when I got up tonight.
I stopped at a well known big box store that sells groceries, clothes, electronics.. the works.
I’m wearing royal blue scrubs, a name badge with a big RN under it and forgot to take my stethoscope off so it’s hanging around my neck. The employees here… well… don’t.
As I’m walking towards the store I see an elderly couple struggling to load a large box in their SUV parked at the front of the store. And I mean old. 90+ Shaky hands. Teetering around with limited mobility. The kind I see with a med list 3 pages long… no way would his hips take the weight without snapping… and I’ve worked enough tonight.
I approach quickly and address the female half of the couple offering help. It was gladly accepted and I got their TV loaded with very little difficulty. It was more cumbersome than heavy. I’m chatting with the woman who is explaining it’s a gift for their son and her husband hadn’t wanted to wait for help. (I’d wondered why an employee wasn’t helping.). That’s when it happened.
I will be RN. She will be EB for entitled b***h.
EB: hey. Hey!
Startled, We stop our conversation and look over. It’s a lady in her 50s dressed in a cheap looking beige pant suit with a get your manager hairstyle standing about 15 feet away with a hand on her overly broad hip.
EB: IF you are ABOUT done. I need help over here.
She then points to her cart with two boxes of bookshelves.. some assembly required. I realize she thinks I work here.
RN: Oh Sorry. I don’t work…
EB: You are already making me late! Just get it done! …and DON’T scratch my paint up.
The elderly lady and I exchange looks of disbelief and I try again.
RN: I don’t work he…
EB: Just get it done!
She then steps away from her cart to grab her purse grumbling about “F*****g idiots” and is digging for her keys when the cart rolls further away and one wheel goes off the curb. The entire uneven load causes the cart to topple over. I instinctively jump forward to try to prevent everything from falling…
I was unsuccessful. EB, who has now turned to see her particle board bookshelves spilled out on the cement. Corners of the boxes crushed and one has torn open with a few pieces and packaging now exposed. EB completely loses her s**t and becomes a raging thunderc*nt.
EB: What the f**k! You f*****g moron! Pick them up! God dammit. F*****g… I’m going to have you fired! You owe me new bookshelves! And I’m late!
At this point. I’m done.
RN: Pick them up yourself! I Don’t Work Here!
I then turn to go inside when I feel her grab my sleeve and try to yank me around. I jerk my sleeve out of out of grip and turn to face her now violently red face. She opens her mouth to start screaming again but I put my finger in her face and say…
RN: No! Don’t touch me! Shut the hell up! I do not work here, and even if I did. I’d quit before I help you clean up your s**t!
EB stands there speechless. Mouth opening and closing. Sputtering in shock that I’ve dared raise MY voice at HER.
That’s when the manager and an employee come out. As EB sees the manager and finds her voice.
EB: Are you the manager? This man damaged my bookshelves and is refusing to pay for them.
I just stare in shock. Seriously?! Having realized that a man in bright blue scrubs with a stethoscope and a big RN badge really doesn’t work here. Instead of apologizing, she chooses to double down on the craziness and now accuses me of breaking her stuff.
Before I can voice my denial the elderly gentleman I’d helped earlier steps in and explains the situation to the manager. EB is still voicing complaints but the manager realizes the real situation and apologizes to me and the couple.
I’m still standing by watching angrily as the manager deals with EB and inspects the bookshelves. They are not damaged. He offers her two new boxes but EB is now done with the whole situation. She says no. She’s already to late because of me. Just glares over at me and says to the manager
EB: Just load them. I’m already late enough because of this!
The manager and employee then lift the boxes up and get them wedged into the ladies car.
As I shake my head and go to enter the store I’m stopped by the elderly lady I’d helped earlier.
Lady: Sir. Thank you so much for helping us with the TV. I’m so sorry some people are so rude.
She then reaches for my hand to shake. As she folds both her fragile hands around mine, I can feel something in her palm she’s giving me.
Lady whispering: Don’t look yet. Wait till she leaves.
I slide the package into my scrub pocket and Lady walks away. EB then gets in her car and (without apologizing or thanking anyone) peels out and drives away.
I finally enter the store to grab my food items and when I reach in my pocket I pull out a plastic bag with a bunch of screws and hardware.
I realize immediately that the sweet little old lady took advantage of the commotion to steal the hardware out of EB’s ripped box.
I couldn’t believe it. I had the biggest grin on my face as I did my shopping. And I have a new petty revenge hero to idolize.
Image credits: BookwyrmsRN
I drove a white 1982 Nissan Pulsar. It was ancient but no complaints. (Relevant, I promise).
It’s 7am, I’m driving to work one morning and pull up at a crosswalk to allow a dog walker to pass me.
Without warning, my passenger door opens and a gentleman hops in next to me, nods, says a friendly hello and buckles his seatbelt.
He was a sweet faced, white haired senior wearing a sweater and brown pants. Definitely in his 80’s.
I stared in shock and stumbled my words, totally bewildered by what was happening. He saw my expression and said “Oh! I’m sorry! The train station, please!”
That’s when I saw the taxi rank near the cross walk. Taxis here are white but definitely not hatchbacks, like my car was.
He had a big cheery smile and, still puzzled, I realised that the local train station was two streets away from where I worked. I was heading past there anyway. And he didn’t seem like an axe murderer so, why not?
I relaxed a little, shrugged and said “Uh, sure thing.”
We drove off together and he peered out the window, smiling.
He said “You taxis are much quicker these days! Ah it’s a beautiful day for a train ride, don’t you think?”
He looked at me, still with this big smile and said:
“I’m Jerry, lovely to meet you. I’m meeting my friend for breakfast today! I’m so excited. I haven’t been on the train in years. All my friends have passed on and I don’t really need to go out of town. Well, not until I made a new friend recently. It’s funny how life goes isn’t it? An old codger like me with a breakfast date! Can you imagine.”
“Oh well that sounds lovely, Jerry. Where are you off to?”
He cheerily described the town he was visiting (an hour away by train) and described the store he wanted to visit while he was there.
We chatted the whole way and I was so taken by how upbeat and cheerful he was.
We pulled into the offloading zone outside the train station and he pulled out his wallet. I jumped in, saying “Oh no charge mate, I don’t have my meter working yet.”
(Telling a lie was better than deflating his happy spirit with an embarrassing situation)
He was chuffed. It was a chilly morning. I walked him to the ticket office, where there was a heated waiting room he could sit in until his train arrived.
He thanked me, smiled and said “It’s a beautiful day for a train ride. You take care now.”
“Take care, Jerry.”
It’s been 11 years and I often find myself smiling when I remember him.
Image credits: somethingwithatwo2
SL: “Son, can you help me locate the aluminium foil?”
M: “Sure, it’s right up this way.”
walks her to aisle 7b
M: “It’s pretty high up, let me grab it for you. Do you want the Reynolds, or the store brand?”
SL: “The name brand please.”
hands her a 200 foot roll
M: “Do you need help finding anything else? I’m a walking directory of this store.”
SL: Hands me her shopping list
I spent about ten minutes filling her cart with heavy/hard to reach items, and then I got back to my shopping with a smile and a “have a great day”.
As I’m standing in the checkout, I see the SL arguing with the floor manager (Greg, he goes to my church, we’re pretty familiar with each other) over by the express line.
I pay for my groceries, and walk over to be nosy, and maybe help out.
SL is telling Greg that “The big guy with the red beard” helped her, “I didn’t get his name” and she wants to see him get a bonus, promotion, or employee of the month, something.
Greg is insistent that no one with that description works there.
I get to the counter, and before I can explain that I don’t even work there, Greg pipes up.
G (to SL): “Oh, you mean Mark? Yeah, he’s one of our best employees.”
G (to me): “Mark, this lady has been over here singing your praises for the past 5 minutes. I didn’t even know you were working today.”
Me (Lying through my teeth): “Well, Sharon (a cashier I know) called me and said we were slammed, so I came in on my day off.”
G: “Well that’s some real initiative, how would you like to be Assistant to the Regional Manager (we’re both huge Office fans)?”
M: “Oh my God, thank you! Are you sure?”
G: “Well, you’ve definitely earned it.”
SL: “See, this is why I shop here instead of Walmart, even though you guys charge more. You care about your employees, and your employees care about your customers.”
So that is how I became assistant to the regional manager at a store I am not even employed by.
Image credits: its710somewhere
A while back I was working in an office that allowed dogs. It was an open floor plan and since customers never came into the office, we kept the dogs food and water bowls right by the front door just because it was the most convenient space and no one else would see them but us who worked there.
Of the six of us who worked in the main office area, I was the only one who didn’t have a dog (no pets policy at the apartment) and always felt horribly left out.
To make matters worse, across the way was a doggie daycare. One day a very frantic woman came in and she had an absolutely massive basset hound with her. Usually the only people who came into the office were associates who had appointments with someone working there, but it was rare they brought their dogs.
She ran up to me and said “Do you work here?” And I said “Yes, how can I help you?” And she said “I wasn’t sure if you took walk ins but I read online I could just drop him off? I tried to call but no answer.” I didn’t know what she was talking about at that point and I said “Come again? Who did you call exactly?” Thinking if I could just saddle her off to whoever she came to see, I wouldn’t have to decipher her problem.
She said “Well it doesn’t matter now. Look, something urgent’s come up and I really need to leave him here. Here’s his food he likes and I’ll be back in a few hours and—“ at this point I wasn’t thinking of the doggie daycare. I thought maybe she was a friend of someone here.
I said “Well alright, can I get your name please?” And she said her name and then asked if I needed her to sign anything and I was so confused at this point I just said “Why would I need you to sign something?” And she left almost immediately.
So I took Otis (the dog) to the back and showed him to my coworkers and no one knew the woman or dog. I was worried she wouldn’t come back, but at the same time, my wish for an office dog had been granted! And Otis was supremely chill. He just loved attention from anywhere he could get it.
At the end of the day the woman, thank God, came back. She said “Thanks, you’re a lifesaver. How was he?” And I said “He was a champ.” And was about to say “But why is he here” when she said “Thats a relief. Most kennels say he gets anxious around other dogs. I heard you operated at a much higher capacity, I was thrilled to see you had so few clients in the room at one time. So, how much do I owe?” And that’s when I realized she thought we were a dog daycare.
Now, I probably should’ve corrected her. But I loved my day with the office dog and I did want to get paid for supervising this strange dog all day. I just threw out the number that sounded fair and appropriate “That’ll be $20.” I said.
She replied “Reaalllly?!” In this very high tone, and I couldn’t tell if I’d overshot or undershot. But she paid me and left. My coworkers were laughing hysterically when they realized what had happened and we thought it would just be a good story for the future.
But the next week she came back! She said we were so much more affordable and less overcrowded than her other place that she was happy to use us. I was glad for the company so just took him. I didn’t think there was any way she couldn’t have at least some idea we weren’t a dog daycare. The whole ordeal was so strange I just figured “don’t question a good thing.” (I was much younger and dumber then.)
Not long after, Otis started getting dropped off two, sometimes even three or four days a week. And he made fast friends with the delivery guys and visitors. One day we took our office Christmas card photo and Otis was over that day, so we included him. In a Santa hat. It was pretty great. But it turns out Otis’ owner was friends with one of our clients who I guess happened to have the card out on her table or was kind enough to display it alongside her other holiday cards.
Because one day Otis’ owner came in holding the card and walked up to me and said “I can’t even believe I’m asking this but… is that my dog in this photo? This isn’t a dog daycare at all. This is just an office, isn’t it.” She said it with a note of surprise, as though she was looking around and putting it all together for the first time (no coincidence that this was the first time she wasn’t in some crazy rush either.) She was like “Then who are all these other dogs?!” And I explained.
I was terrified she was going to demand her money back, or worse, take some sort of legal action against us for misrepresenting ourselves as a dog care business, or complain to corporate.
Instead she basically said “Why didn’t you ever say anything!” And I explained we just really liked having Otis around. She stopped for a minute and seemed to be thinking and said “Is that right?” And I said yes and told the story of how I was the only one in the office without a dog so loved the company.
She seemed a little flummoxed or hesitant, understandably, because the whole thing was so weird. She turned to my coworker and asked if I was telling the whole truth. Coworker backed me up.
So she said, “Well, I wish you’d said something sooner. Could’ve saved me a lot of embarrassment with my friend back there. Alright, I have to get going. See you at 4:00.” And she left Otis! I couldn’t believe it! I said “So he can stay?!” And she replied “Where else could I find someone to watch him one on one all day for $20?” And off she went.
Otis stayed my office dog until his family moved away, luckily right around the same time I took a new job.
Image credits: SwarmTendon
I am a 18 yr old male, born completely deaf and mute. Also, I am partially blind in my left eye. I live with my sister(28 F) who had been taking care of me since our parents died. Recently she got married and went on her honeymoon. So I am on my own for a few weeks.
This happened yesterday. Usually, whenever I go out I am accompanied by my sister due to my disability. But now, since she is on her honeymoon, I had to go out alone. There was a new supermarket opened in our area, and I needed some items, so decided to go there and grab them.
My bad for wearing a red colored shirt almost similar to the employees working there. But if you look closely, you could see that it was not the uniform. I was at the electronics section looking for some batteries, when I see an old man struggling to get some DVD’s at the top shelf. Since I am tall, I helped him. He thanked me(I can do lip reading) and went on his way.
Then I began looking for the batteries. That’s when I felt someone grab my left wrist. I turned around and a women (in her late 40’s) slapped me. She was speaking something, but I couldn’t follow her lips as she spoke too fast. However, I was able to catch some words like ‘you’, ‘ignore’, ‘job’, etc. So, I signed to her that I am deaf. Apparently, this was a wrong move because she became more irate towards the signs. Again she was yelling something but I couldn’t catch anything. So I took my notebook and started writing that I am deaf and mute. Before I could finish, she grabbed my notebook and pen and threw them away. Then she slapped me again and pushed me to the ground.
Luckily, by this time a store employee came to see what the commotion was about? He saw me on the ground and helped me up. Then he asked me what happened? Before I can sign to him, Karen starts to yell at the employee. I don’t know that she said as she was not facing me. After she finished, I sign to employee that I cannot hear or speak. Fortunately, he understood and explained this to the lady. But she is still not convinced. She tries to assault me again, but I moved away. Then I wrote and showed the employee to call the cops on her. The employee nodded and called the cops. Karen tried to run away, but the security caught her.
The police arrived in about 10 minutes. They first talked to the employee who explained the situation, about how Karen assaulted me because she mistook me for a store employee. One police officer comes and speaks to me. I understood that he wanted my version of events, so I wrote everything down and showed it to the officer. Then they went to check the CCTV footage. Then came back and asked me if I wanted to press charges. I gladly said yes. Karen was then placed in handcuffs and given a free ride at the back of a police cruiser.
The manager then explained to me that Karen thought I worked there and she became angry that I ignored her. She had been standing on my left side, so obviously I couldn’t see her. The store manager then offered me a 50% discount on the products. I texted my sister about the events that happened and she was livid. Oh, did I mention that my sister is a lawyer. She told me that she herself will be handling the case and would see to that Karen would get maximum time. Court date is in around 40 days. I will update about it after court.
Image credits: PraveenShankar007
I work as a substitute teacher at various local highschools, I am 24 but obviously look younger according to this teacher. AT = angry teacher. Me = self explanatory.
AT: “why aren’t you in uniform? And no phones during school!”
I thought he was talking to a student so I ignored him.
AT: “Excuse me, don’t ignore me.” He said as he snatched my phone out of my hand.
Me: “What the f**k, give that back, I’m not a student.” AT: “thats detention for swearing at a teacher, you will get your phone back at the end of the day, now you will come down to the office and tell the principle about how disrespectful you are being.”
By this point I thought it would be funnier to let him complain to the principal who I play netball with and watch his reaction. He was raging. Saying I deserved to be suspended and that students always had their phones out yada yada. The principle and I were just trying not to laugh before she told him I was a teacher too.
Me: “now give me my phone back. Don’t you have a class to teach? Because I do.”
I have never seen anyone go so red.
Image credits: ngamako
My niece is from bavaria, i am from baden wuerttemgberg. Her summer vacation started a whole week earlier the ours, and she came for a visit with my brother and her siblings. It was like in the morning and we decided to take doggo for walk and go to the bakery on the other side of the street of a big school complex. I went in, she stayed outside with doggo, Í came back out and she was gone. Let us introduce our protagonists.
PP :principle pissant
Me : take a guess
N : niece.
I decided to call her on the cellphone, and this was the talk.
N : thank god you are calling…..
PP (Screaming in the background) : how dare you take a phonecall while I am talking to you, you are in enough trouble for skipping class….
As I later found out he ripped the phone out of her hand, and must have hung up. I realized what must have happened, and went into the school to clear up this misunderstanding, and go right away to the principles office hoping she would either be there or soon be brought by a teacher.
Outside I already hear him screaming at her
PP : stop giving me a fake name and stop lying, you won´t get out of here until i have the truth, and I promise you this will be mentioned in your school certificate (we have grades for general behaviour here, and teachers can also write a comment in there. It is something employers care about if you look for an apprenticeship for example).
I did not bother knocking and went right in.
PP : who are you and how dare you just come in here without knocking
Me : I am this girls uncle, what the hell do you think you are doing here ? She does not go to your school !!!
PP : Ah I guess you where the one on the phone, nice try, but you will not help her trick her way out of this. I will get to the bottom of this, and I will only release her to her parents. Now get out of my office or I will call the police and have you arrested for trespassing in a school (school are protected places, so you get in way more trouble here for trespassing then usual)
Me : I will stay right here to protect my niece from your crazy ass, and calling the cops sounds like a really good idea, after all you have abducted my niece.
So I did the call and just told the police that my niece got abducted and to come to the principles office asap.
PP : do you really expect me to believe your fake phonecall ? her un till the police is here The he started to shout at my niece again ,who was in tears by now.
ME : STOP F*****G SHOUTING AT MY NIECE, you will not address her till the police is here, or I WILL shut you up.
PP :that is it, i am calling the police now, to have you arrested and finally find out her real name.
So he called the police, only to find out I actually did call the police. Suddenly he was not so sure anymore, and you could tell the cogs in his head where finally start to turn.
About 5 minutes later the police finally arrived, and they asked us separately. Here is roughly what my niece told the cops.
She was waiting outside the bakery, when PP came unto her like ab at from hell. He screamed at her that he is really fed up with people skipping school the last week before vacation starts, and will make an example pout of her. Before she could get a word in edgewise, he grabbed her by the arm really hard (hard enough she got a bad bruise for over a week), and that is what started to get him into real trouble. The cops also took her data, and confirmed she is from Bavaria. They then asked us if we want to press charges and I just said throw the book at him. PP heard the police sayíng press charges and suddenly realized he was in real deep s***, so he came over.
PP : hey this is just a misunderstanding, you have to understand I have to be strict with people skipping school.
Me : if by being strict you mean assaulting a 12 year old´so badly she has a handprint from you on her arm that will create a huge ruise, abducting her from my care, and wrongfully imprison her in your office while screaming at her and scaring the beejezus out of her, then no I DO NOT HAVE TO UNDERSTAND THAT !!!
PP : please you are completely blowing this out of proportion, I could get suspended without pay over this,and even lose my job.
Me : GOOD, anyody who treats a scared 12 year old girl like that should never again get to work with kids.
In the end he really did lose his job, and I am very glad he did. During the investigation it turned out he was a sorry excuse for a teacher, who belittled kids, who always took the teachers side no mater how wrong they where and even had slapped kids on several occasions. He went to court for assault and attempted abducting plus wrongful imprisonment, plus a few more bodily harms against students. He lost job and pension, got 2 years on probation and 500 hours community service with the stipulation it could be nothing that involved kids. He was also forbidden to ever work with kids again.
Image credits: hicctl
Quite some time ago, my girlfriend and I moved in together, and had to set up all the things. Cable, internet, phone, etc. We got our home phone number, our 2 cell phones, and we were off to the races. Almost immediately, we start getting calls for an establishment that does custom framing and various other art-related things. Let’s call them “Expo for Art.” Of course, we had caller ID, and we had friends that would call us, but inevitably if we didn’t recognize the number it was someone wanting to find out if their order was complete, or their frame was done, of what their hours were, or any of a thousand other questions.
I’m sure anyone else who had had this happen will recognize this exchange.
“Sorry, that’s no longer their number, this is a residence.”
“Yes I’m sure”
“No I’m not giving you my address.”
“No I don’t know their new number.”
“Yes I have a phone book, but so do you.”
Eventually, after a thousand of these, and changing the message on our answering machine to say “This is not, I repeat not, Expo for Art. If you are trying to reach Expo for Art, please hang up, look up their number, and try that, because we aren’t them.”
Eventually, I got my gazillionth call, and I asked the person on the other end of the line where they keep getting this number. “Well it’s printed on my receipt. I guess I’ll just call this other number.” Any chance you can give me that one? Thanks.
I call it.
“Hello, Expo for Art.”
“You guys are still giving out my home phone number on your receipts.”
“Well, f*****g stop it. It’s been at least a year since you haven’t had that number. At least cross it out or something.”
“That’s a pain in the ass, I’m not making my employees do that.”
“So you’re the manager?”
“I’m the owner.”
“So let me see if I have this right. You, what was your name again?”
Let’s call him Fred.
“You, Fred have decided that it’s too inconvenient to cross my home phone number off of your receipts, so you’re just going to keep giving it out?”
“Yup. What are you gonna do? Sue me?”
“Whatever. I’ve got shit to do. Bye.”
I called a lawyer. Didn’t really have a leg to stand on.
I went to the store and asked for Fred. “Fred’s not here. He’s hardly ever here, really. You want me to call him?”
“No, I’m fine. I know this is going to sound odd, but is there any chance I can see one of your receipts?”
She picks up a receipt book, and shows it to me. Sure enough, it’s got my phone number at the top, above another one. I say “I thought so. I couldn’t get you at the other number, some guy yelled at me, and I didn’t have my old receipt, so I had to come down here.”
“We’ve been having that happen a lot. Ever since Fred decided we didn’t need two phone lines. But he had just bought like 20 boxes of these receipt books and business cards, and he’s too cheap to buy more until they run out. I’d hate to be that guy.”
“Yeah, that’s gotta suck.”
So I went home, and hatched my evil plan.
Next phone number I didn’t recognize: “Hello, Expo for Art.”
“Hi, this is Mary Smith, I dropped off a thing last week to be framed. Is it ready?”
“Let me check. Yup. We finished it this morning. I hope you don’t mind, but we decided to upgrade the matting because of the weight of the piece. It’s the same color, and won’t be charging you for it, since it was my decision.”
“Oh, thank you. I’ll be down to pick it up later today. What time do you close?” I look down at the business card, with my number and the hours clearly marked 11-4. “Take your time, we’ll be here until 7.”
“Thank you so much, can you tell me how much that was?”
“$19.99 ma’am, plus tax so $21.39”
“Wow that’s cheap. Are you sure?”
“Of course. If anyone has a problem, tell them you talked to Fred.”
“OK, see you around 6.”
“See you then. Thank you for calling Expo for Art.”
For weeks I kept giving out completely random information.
How much is a 36″x48″ matted frame? Let’s say $24.99. Wow that’s cheap, how much to have it done custom, how they want it? Custom is an extra $10, so $34.99. Wow that’s cheap, I’ll be right down, what was your name? Fred. See you in 10 Fred. How much to have the entire front page of the New York Times from 9/11 mounted and framed? $33.99, unless you want our special, proprietary newspaper frame and mat service, only $49.99 and guaranteed for life, only at Expo for Art, tell them Fred sent you. I can only imagine the number of pissed off people who showed up to pick up orders that weren’t ready, and when they finally were, were given a price way higher than what Fred had told them over the phone.
Eventually, someone let slip that “they called the number on the receipt, and that’s what Fred had told them.” Fred was not happy.
“Hello, thank you calling Expo for Art, this is Fred.”
“YOU’RE NOT FRED, I’M FRED!!! ARE YOU TRYING TO PUT ME OUT OF BUSINESS?!?!?!?!?!‽”
“Why Fred, whatever do you mean?”
“Someone has been giving prices to my customers, and telling them their orders are in when they’re not due for weeks.”
“Well, Fred, who called them?”
“Nobody called them, they called us.”
“Then what’s the problem. If someone called you, and got pricing information, that would seem to be your problem.”
“They didn’t call me, they called you.”
“Well, how would that happen?”
“Your number is on my receipts and business cards.”
“My my. It seems to me there’s a very simple solution here. Take my number off of your receipts and business cards.”
“Do you have any idea how much promotional materials cost?”
“Is it MORE than it costs to do these jobs for the prices you’re quoting? Is it more than it costs to lose customers, or less than that?”
“This is extortion!!!”
“Call it what you want Fred. The choices, and consequences, are entirely up to you.”
A week later “Hello, Expo for Art, this is Fred.”
“I’VE ORDERED NEW RECEIPT BOOKS AND CARDS. CAN YOU PLEASE STOP THIS BULLSHIT!?!?!?!?!”
“Sure. Bye Fred!”
Image credits: Billiam201
I work at a hospital as an ER nurse, which means when I start at 7am, by nine in the morning all the f***s I possess are gone and by the end of my 12.5 hour shift I’m pretty much just done with people in general (don’t get me wrong, I love my job, but fighting Darwinism can be exhausting).
So after a rather grueling shift I stopped by the grocery store for dinner. I’m tired, and feeling super lazy at this point so even though I’m only grabbing a couple of things I use a regular cart (coz, you know, I can lean on it). I do my shopping, pay for my goods and head out to my truck. Just to inform, no khakis were involved here. Store employees wear dark brown slacks, white collared shirts and ties. I was wearing an Incredible’s scrub top (yes the animated movie, no you can’t judge me) and bright blue scrub pants.
After loading my groceries I, of course, return my wheeled crutch (ahem, shopping cart) to the corral and return to my truck when a harpy with a RBF that would make Louis from Malcom in the Middle proud screams across the lot.
(M) Me (H) Harpy
H: Boy! I’m done you can take my cart now!
(I know I look young but, really? Boy?)
H: Come over here and take my cart!
M: yeah I don’t work here, sorry.
H: just do your damn job and take my cart!
M: that’s gonna be a hard no from me, sorry.
I start (again) back towards my truck. Harpy at this point decides to thrust her cart towards me. It rolls (as carts with wheels are wont to do) and to me, it’s like a train wreck. I want to look away but I can’t, I’m mesmerized by the free range movement of this cart as it runs right into a Jaguar… a nice clean one… with dealer plaques still on where the license plates should be… and a woman who totally looked like a Karen (you know the type) just getting out…
The Karen obviously starts screaming and hollering as only a Karen can. Harpy is trying to blame me for not running out to catch the cart. I’m trying very hard not to start laughing. I finally get back to my truck as Harpy is screaming at me to stop because this is my fault coz I should have collected her cart in the first place. The last thing I heard before closing my door and driving off was the Karen screaming at Harpy about how “he’s f*****g wearing scrubs! How could any idiot think he works here?”
I think this was the first time I’ve ever rooted for a Karen.
Image credits: vita_est
I, working as door greeter watching out for lost Customers and folks with returns, working in lawn and garden section, I see this autistic young man ,( I guess he is autistic, as he seems predominantly focused on his action and kinda has the actions of an autistic individual.)
This young man is sorting and moving potted flowers around putting them in a very specific order, matching colors, size of pots, and height of the flowers themselves, ( doing an amazing job at it too I may add.)
He is bothering noone and most folks are just noticing him doing a bang up job, But this one old crone of a woman sees him “working” she stands behind this young man arms folded and tapping her foot, (at first I was thinking maybe it was her son or someone she was shopping with, but the next thing she did proved to me I was mistaken.)
She clears her throat in that dreaded fashion we all know, ” ahem…excuuuuuuuse me You need to help me.”
The young man pays her no mind, continuing with his task, she doesn’t like this, she clears her voice and replies louder,. YOU ARE NOT LISTENING TO ME, YOU ARE GOING TO HELP ME NOW!!!.
Before I can walk to her and ask her what she needs she reaches out and grabs this young man by the right arm just above his elbow, I guess the sudden action of this and the young man’s condition caused him to spin around and jerk his arm away from this lady, and the sudden movement startled the old woman causing her to step backwards and lose her balance causing her to sit down on her butt.
(It was like in slow motion watching her go from standing to sitting on the ground)
By the time I reached the young man to see if he was ok, his mother had shown up and was asking what had happened, before I could say anything the woman who had caused this was up and berating this young man. Saying he attacked her and she will have him fired and arrested, meanwhile this young man was almost crying and his mother was shocked.
I told the mom to take her son and calm him down, that he has done nothing wrong and just make sure he is ok.
Crazy old women didn’t like that I took his side, she began to lie and tell me she was the victim and she didn’t do anything, that the employee (young man) attacked her.
I told her not so kindly
she was a liar and I had witnessed the whole incident
The young man you forcibly grabbed does not work here and you assaulted him.
By now a crowd has gathered, and the crazy woman has noticed that noone is giving her looks that they believe her side of the story.
She just puts her head down and walks quickly out the store.
When I turn to check on the young man and his mother She was smiling at me and was thanking me for my help, she shops here regularly and the young man likes to arrange the flowers, it’s calming to him, I express my regrets about the whole incident, the young man walks over to me and Pats my shoulder once and goes back to the flowers, the mom informed me that was the equivalent of a high five from him.
Image credits: Rudedoggg
I never thought I would experience this in my life time. I’m a hard worker, extremely dependable, and respectful. Not sure how I could lose a job like this. Especially when I only just got it.
So I work late and just about every night for the last few weeks at least, I stop by Walmart to get something for dinner. I usually get off around midnight and stop by on my way home. Every time I’m at Walmart, barely anyone is there except for the night crew. Stocking up the store and doing their own thing. Now from what I have noticed, they don’t have much of a uniform. Many of them are in hoodies or jackets of different colors. Just to add some context.
I showed up last night and I’m wearing a hoodie. I begin to walk up and down the isles trying to figure out what I want for dinner. I’m thinking pasta and walk past a few guys who are loading the shelves. All of a sudden, I start hearing this guy yelling. This voice gets louder. “HEY! HEYYYY! Are you listening?” I turn to look to see what is going on and this guy approaches me. “You’re late again. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you walking in the door after 12.”
I begin to laugh, thinking this guy is joking around. Before I can even say anything he jumps on me. “You think this is funny? Your job must not be important to you. I want you to follow me to the office.”
Now I’m completely confused and start looking around like I’m on some hidden camera show. He starts to walk off and I turn around and go back to shopping.
He comes back a minute later and starts to yell. “You want to be fired? Because if you don’t come with me now, I will fire you!”
I start to laugh even harder, then ask him, “What’s my name?”
He gives me this puzzled look, so I asked him again, “What’s my name? Do you even know who I am?”
He looks at the other guys in the isle, who have stopped stocking the shelves at this point to watch this event unfold. He then looks back at me, trying to figure out what exactly to say back to me before his head explodes.
“Good luck filing the paper work to fire me, when you don’t even know my name!” I continue to laugh at this whole stupid charade. I pick up some ingredients for spaghetti, trying to give this guy a clue.
He storms off and I look at the other guys in the isle. “I’m sure he will figure out eventually, I don’t work here.”
They start laughing and I go on. Can’t believe I lost the job I just found out I had in the same night.
Image credits: ItsABurnerSN
My kids have the day off from school, so I took the day off from work and we had a Daddy/Daughters day. I took them out to breakfast, and then a trip to the mall.
We started off in one of the department stores, and my daughters decided to start looking there for new outfits. Now I love my daughters, but shopping is absolutely not my thing. So while they’re looking for clothes I’m standing over by one of the counters waiting and reading on my phone.
I hear someone make a noise behind me, so I look up and there’s a lady standing there with a huge armful of clothes. I figured she was heading to check out so I moved over to the side of the counter. She says “Excuse me”, and I figured she’s talking to one of the employees. A few seconds later she yells “EXCUSE ME!”, and I look up to see what’s going on. That’s when I realized she was talking to me.
By this time, people are staring at us, including my daughters. This is the rest of the encounter: Me = Me. CL = Crazy Lady.
CL: “Don’t ‘yeah me’. Take these, I don’t want any of them.” She sticks the clothes out towards me.
Me: “Yeah, I don’t work here.”
CL: “I don’t care what department you work in, take the damn clothes.”
Now on any other day, I would’ve simply told her to piss off and go find someone who works there. But since I was out with my daughters, I decided to handle it a little differently.
Me: “Excuse me?”
CL: She’s getting really pissed at this point, and she yells again: “TAKE THE GODDAMN CLOTHES!!” and this time she shoves the clothes into my chest.
Me: I look down a the clothes for a second, and then look at her with a huge smile on my face: “Master has presented Dobby with clothes… Dobby is freeeee!” and I threw the entire pile of clothes back in her face.
She was standing there stunned/shocked, people in the store were cracking up laughing, my oldest daughter was trying to hide because she was “soooo embarrassed” (which is nothing new). I walked over to my girls and asked if they found anything they liked. They hadn’t, so we left. As we were walking out I could see CL yelling at a couple of actual employees who looked like they were doing their best not to laugh also.
So I went to Aldi today on my lunch break from work. I was shopping for ingredients to make hard apple cider. I found the only apple juice Aldi sold without preservatives and loaded up my cart with a dozen half gallon bottles and kept them in their cardboard boxes so they would be easier to transport. There were a few other items I needed to pick up so I pushed my cart through the store shopping for them. A woman noticed the boxes of apple juice in my cart and asked where I had found them. I had nothing better to do, so I walked her over to the apple juice display where she thanked me. Another woman immediately came up to me and asked,
“You used to have these candy apples in the store but I can’t find them. Where are they?”
I had no idea where they were so I said, “I’m sorry, I don’t know – I don’t work here.”
Her eyes narrowed and she responded, “What do you mean you don’t work here? I just saw you help that other person.”
Now, I am in a t-shirt and corduroy pants and don’t look at all as if I would be working at this store. I could tell that this was not going to go well no matter what I said, but I attempted to be polite, “I’m sorry, ma’am. She asked me where I had found this apple juice so I showed her. I don’t actually work here.”
“What do you mean you don’t work here?!”
“I don’t work here. I am a customer, like you.”
“Just tell me where the candy apples are!”
At this point it was getting weird. “I really don’t know where the candy apples are. I don’t work here.”
“You don’t know where anything is in this store?!”
“I know where the apple juice is.”
“WHERE ARE THE CANDY APPLES?!”
“Ma’am, I’m sorry I can’t help you. I really don’t work here.”
“WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!”
“It means that I don’t work at this store. I don’t know where the candy apples are. I am a customer like you.”
“THEN WHY ARE YOU STOCKING THE SHELVES?!” She indicated the boxes in my cart filled with apple juice.”
“I am shopping I am going to buy what is in my cart…”
“NOBODY NEEDS THAT MUCH JUICE! YOU WORK HERE AND YOU NEED TO TELL ME WHERE THE CANDY APPLES ARE!” At this point everyone around us had stopped and were staring.
An Aldi shelf stocker came over and said, “Ma’am, the candy apples were a seasonal item and I’m afraid we are sold out.”
The woman glared at the Aldi employee, and then me and said, indicating me, “WHY DIDN’T HE TELL ME THAT?!”
“He doesn’t work here, Ma’am.”
The woman then roared in exasperation, pushed her cart into an aisle display of canned food, knocking it over and screamed, “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE!!! I AM NEVER COMING BACK!”
She stormed out of the store, fuming. The employee gave me with a WTF look, which I returned, then I proceeded to checkout.
I loaded the juice into the trunk of my car and hopped in the driver seat. I checked my mirrors before backing out and noticed that the candy apple lady was in the SUV to my left, sitting in her driver seat, sobbing.
I rolled down my window and waved to get her attention. She noticed me, waited about 15 seconds, then rolled down her window.
“Are you OK, ma’am?” I asked.
Through sobs and tears she said, “I said I would bring candy apples to my grandson’s party.”
I asked her when the party was to take place and she told me ‘tonight’. I told her that I had seen kits to make candy apples over at Safeway, and that if she made them now they should be ready by the time of the party.
Her eyes lit up and she looked at me, “Thank you.”
I went back to work.
Image credits: seanbeedelicious
I worked at Target and there was a Hobby Lobby across the street. I ran over to Hobby Lobby after a shift to grab something and I was still wearing my red shirt with the target symbols all over it.
A 20 something girl comes up to and says “Do you know where I can find a glue gun?” I paused and just kind of looked at my shirt and I said “… you mean at this store or… like… at Target?” And she just stared at my name tag for a long time and sighed a heavy sigh and quietly said “sorry, I don’t know where I am.”
Image credits: ibridgham
My friend David is skilled in a very niche area of construction. He repairs and renovates buildings using a very old construction method that hasn’t been common for several centuries. All his work is on conservation projects and “listed buildings”.
Work was required on a Grade 1 listed property.
The overall building work was being done my the main contractor ACC Ltd. One part of the work is VERY specialized.
The contractors managers didn’t know anyone who did it so the architect gave them a list of qualified people. The contractors chose my friend because he had the earliest availability.
5 days into the work the owner of ACC Ltd, the main contractor company, arrived on site. He was throwing his weight around and being a “noisy g******” (David’s words). David was just doing his job and ignored him.
Noisy g****** told one of his carpenters to get him a coffee. The carpenter disappeared. Noisy g****** continued wandering and “gobbing off” about delays “costing him a fortune”.
15 minutes after the carpenter had disappeared the Noisy G****** asked my friend a question.
Noisy G****** : “Where is that f****** chippy with my coffee?” (Chippy=carpenter)
David: “Don’t know”
Noisy G******: “Go and find out”
David: “I’m only here for this job (pointing to the walls) I don’t work for ACC Ltd”
Noisy G******e: “I don’t give f*** whether you’re an employee or a subontractor, you still work for me. Now go and find my f****** coffee”
David: “Firstly, I don’t appreciate being talked to like that and secondly, my contract with you is to do these walls, nothing more. I’m definitely not a gopher”
Noisy G******: “Oh, you don’t appreciate being talked to like that, do you? Which subcontractor do you work for?”
David: “None. I’m self employed. It’s just me”
Noisy G****** : “A f****** day labourer? And you’ve got the nerve to talk to like that? Do you know who I am?”
Noisy G****** : “Well you’re f***** fired. Get off the f****** site NOW!”
David: “Ok, put it in writing”
Noisy G****** : “F*** off. Just get off the f****** site”
David pulled his phone out and started recording.
David: “Ok, I’ll go. I just want proof you told me to go”
Noisy G****** grabbed David’s hand holding the phone and screamed into the phone
Noisy G******: “GET OFF THE SITE YOU F****** IDIOT. YOU’RE FIRED. IF YOU’RE STILL HERE IN 10 F****** MINUTES I’LL HAVE YOU F****** THROWN OUT”
David: “Cool, no problem”
He picked up all his kit and walked away. As he was leaving the contractors site manager passed him (ironically with a coffee for the boss) and with a smile said.
Site Manager: “You leaving early Dave? Bloody part-timers(joking)”
David: “No, your boss just fired me. Our contract is ended. Sorry mate”
Site Manager: “Noooo. Noo, no. Let me sort this out. Wait, please. Please,wait.”
The Site Manager was losing his s*** because he knew something that Noisy G******** didn’t. Only 7 people in the UK are qualified to do the work. They all have a waiting list and David had been the only one available.
By the time he was home he had 12 missed calls.
That was Thursday. 2 working days missed so far. He said he’ll go back but only if he gets paid for the extra days and has a genuine apology in person from the boss.
I met my friend when he was getting a call from the Site Manager saying the boss apologises but is “out of the country” so can’t apologise f2f.
David also told me he phoned the other specialists to warn them but they’d all been phoned on Friday begging them to do the job. Nobody took the work. They’re all booked solid.
David also phoned the architect to warn him. Situations like this some unscrupulous contractors try to bodge the job and fake the work.
David is going to stick to his guns. Pay for all missed days plus f2f apology. He is sure he’ll get it. I’ve said I’ll pay anything to watch the f2f apology
Image credits: MostlyGruntled
My buddy was taking me out to a fancy French restaurant as a treat and I was pretty gussied up. I really enjoy getting dolled up and wearing a beautiful dress to enjoy a wonderful meal. However, the city in which I live (Portland, Oregon) has a reputation for diners dressing down, even in fine dining restaurants. It’s a running joke among locals. You’ll go into a restaurant where a couple will easily drop a couple hundo on one meal and over half the room are wearing hiking clothes or yoga pants. I only mention this because the staff tends to be better dressed than the clientele. I was wearing all black with my hair in an elaborate up-do and chandelier earrings. I think the all black is what started everything.
This particular restaurant has a well-known (and frankly down-right foxy) chef who typically works at a station expoing and plating where everybody can see him. It’s also near the door to the only washroom and the server station. It’s a huge restaurant and with only the one washroom, there was a bit of a line. I waited and waited and at one point I think the chef and I exchanged a few pleasantries. When I was next in line a middle-aged man in a Portland-issue plaid button up and jeans got in line behind me. He had cranky energy and was shifting from foot-to-foot. It didn’t seem like he had to go badly, just that he was impatient. I had been waiting much, much longer than him and found his constant sighing and scoffing irritating.
When it was my turn I reached for the door only to have this awful man push in front of me and nearly knock me over shoving himself into the open door. I was so taken aback I just sort of froze and said, “excuse me I was next.” Which is when he wheeled around started YELLING about how he wasn’t about to wait while, “some waitress changed her tampon.” And then yelled at the chef that he should have a staff bathroom, because it’s “disgusting” that the staff use the same bathroom as guests and implied he might not pay for his meal because of it.
I stood there in absolute shock (and a full bladder) while this man took care of his business. Clearly taking his sweet time out of spite. Maybe. Something about his personality made me think he hadn’t taken a normal s*** in years. The chef apologized to me and a waiter who had been at the server station commiserated.
I decided f**k it. I DON’T work here, but even if I did there is no reason to be treated like I’m not a human. Seriously, dude. You’re wearing muddy Teva sandals and suddenly acting like we’re in f*****g Downton Abbey.
When he came out I used my entire body to block his path out of the bathroom and gave him a stern, but quiet lecture about how a) I actually wasn’t an employee and b) there is nothing wrong with sharing the bathroom with the staff and told him that he had ruined what should have been a special night out.
Again, this all happened in full view of the entire kitchen staff and several members of the wait staff. I hadn’t realized it at time, but this jerk was actually seated directly next to my friend on the banquet. His female dining companion was sitting next to me. I had been gone easily twenty minutes and my friend was confused and annoyed. I figured at that point I had nothing to lose, so I loudly explained what happened while gesturing to the awful man and making pointed eye contact with the woman. The man looked furious and the woman just silently glared at him.
After a few minutes the waiter wordlessly dropped their check. They were mid-meal and hadn’t been offered dessert. It was clearly a very pointed, but polite, “f**k you, get out” from the staff after his rant. They paid without incident and as they got up to leave he tried to put his hand on her shoulder only to have her jerk away and say, “don’t touch me.” TFW you realize your partner is a complete jackass who got you thrown out of a restaurant for screaming about tampons.
We got a cheese plate and glasses of sparkling rose as a gift from the restaurant. Cheers
Image credits: pdxcranberry
My mom and I were in the front yard planting flowers and deweeding, chatting family stuff in our own language while enjoying the nice weather outside. We were in full gardening gear complete with straw hats and rain boots with face masks on. A white truck with a trailer drove up and a mid-aged man jumped out.
Guy – (waving me down) Hey! Where is the owner of the house?
Me – (pulling down my mask) Oh, you must be the duct-cleaning service, please come in with me.
Guy – (annoyed) No, I need to speak with the landlord.
Me – (chuckles) I am the landlord. Do you need to come in the house for the esti-
Guy – (cuts me off) No, I need to speak to the person who made the call!
Me – (pulling out my phone) Ok, hold on. (dialing the company number)
Guy – (pulling out his phone) See? The landlord is calling me.
Me – Hi, I’m english name. I’m standing right in front of you. I don’t think I will be needing your services today. Goodbye.
The guy stood there dumbstruck for a moment, then sulkily walk back to his truck and left.
My mom looked at me confused and ask in Chinese “what was that?”. I shrugged and answered “looks like we need to call another duct-cleaning company”.
Image credits: Eudemon
So I work as an armed guard for armed truck service. For those of you who don’t know, we are responsible for picking up money and checks from other businesses. (I.e. banks,store, restaurants, etc.) As part of my job is handling large amounts of cash I carry a side arm or handgun for those not into guns in order to protect myself and the money. Where I live you have to have what’s called a concealed carry permit to have such firearm outside of work hours, Which I have.
So I am on my way home and have to stop at the store to pickup dinner for myself. The store I go to has employees that wear a blue polo and tan pants. My uniform is black pants and red polo with company name on it. And as I had just got off work I still have my name badge on and side arm in its holster on my hip.
Cue crazy lady. I’m browsing the freezer aisle and she stops me and starts to ask where product z is. She stops dead in her tracks as she sees my gun in it holster. Stops talking and fast walks out of the aisle. I just assume she realized I don’t work there and left to find someone who does.
I go about my business and proceed up to the cashier line. As I’m waiting to get up to check out in comes a swarm of about 8 police officers. They come straight to me with crazy lady behind shouting “that’s him, that’s the guy with the gun.” They point there guns at me and order my hands up. I drop what I have and comply. I state that I work for company z and that I have a permit for my weapon.
They lower and holster their guns after the commotion and apologizes for the confusion but said they got a call about a guy walking around the store waving a gun around. I say I’m sorry but since I have been here my gun has been holstered. Never left the holster.
They turn to the lady and ask if it’s true that I never took my gun out of the holster. She yells that I’m lying and that I can’t have a gun in the store anyway. They of course go and check the security footage and see that I did nothing wrong and let me go on about my business and apologize again for the misunderstanding.
They then turn around and handcuff the lady who called and told her she is being arrested for misusing the 911 system and inciting panic. Not sure this entirely belongs here and I am open to comments.
For clarity I am white male but look Hispanic due to the dark skin tone I have year round.
Image credits: armed4life
Yesterday at about 2:30 I was shopping at my local smiley face box store. As I usually do I stop and check their app to figure out what aisle stuff is on since they did a reset a few months ago, and I haven’t yet become accustomed to the layout.
While standing in the aisle searching the app, I hear a very loud throat clearing sound. It was at that point I knew I had my opportunity to try a new tactic. We all saw how verbally obscene I have been in the past. This time I was going to play nice.
This lady didn’t look like the stereotype Karen, she had red highlights and curly hair. Let’s call her K. And to be open I’m wearing a green shirt with a Minecraft creeper on it.
K: ahem! Excuse me! Hey! (No there were no pauses)
Her hand was on her hip, and her head was tilted in that I’m about to go off on you way that Karen’s get before threatening a manager.
K: I’ve been waiting over here for 10 minutes.
I cut her off mid sentence. I felt a bit cheeky.
Me: Oh my goodness. I’m sorry you had to wait. Why didn’t you get my attention sooner. Since your here now, can you check the back for this homedic foot spa? The app said you have one In stock, but the slot is empty.
K: I.. uh.. you’re supposed to be helping me.
Me: I am? Well I guess I can go back with you to check. I’m not exactly sure how that would work, but I’m game.
K: excuse me? Your the one who works here.
Me: Pretty sure I don’t. However, judging by your blue shirt, your the employee I requested 15 minutes ago. Do you have any idea what it’s like to wait that long for a employee? Then have them lie and say they don’t work here?
K: I don’t work here dumba**. What are you even talking about?
Me: Well then why would you come up to a customer who is obviously waiting on somebody and then tell them you had been waiting for their attention for 10 minutes?
K: I didn’t.
Me: Yes, you did. Now don’t lie to me twice. Do we need to get your manager up here?
At this point she lets out the loudest “hmmph” type of sound and walks out mouthing something under her breath.
I continued my shopping and ultimately checked out. Probably the most fun I’ve ever had diffusing a situation without the use of profanity, and without an actual employee getting involved.
I do stand up comedy sometimes.
I was performing at a bar/restaurant deal and was sitting in the back taking care of some emails waiting for my set time.
I went to the bar to get a drink, had a chat with the bartender for a few minutes, then got the signal I had 5 minutes til show, so went back.
When I got to the back room I realized I’d left my phone on the bar so ran out again to collect it.
Enter Karen (not her real name, of course). At a table just left of dead center facing the stage. Right by the back entrance I’d been popping in and out of all night. In a big group of six or seven people but even in my brief forays out, I could hear her shrill voice dominating their conversation.
I guess here is as good a place as any to mention I was wearing a yellow sweatshirt and cargo shorts, the servers there wear all black.
Karen: Sir, Sir, excuse me, sir!
Me: What’s up?
Karen: Can you check on our food please? All we ordered were some wings and it’s been like half an hour already.
Me: Your server can help you with that, I’m not a waiter.
Karen: What? Oh, dish boy, line cook, whatever. You work here, so just when you go back there ask about my food.
Me: Oh, no, you see I’m—
Karen: No I get it. You aren’t a waiter. But do you work here?
Me: Kind of. Let me explain.
Someone in her party: I don’t think he’s a waiter—
Karen: Shut it, ok, I’ve got this. You work here. You can bring me my food. Just a quick lil… you know… trot trot trot, carry carry… boom. Done.
Me: I can’t do that.
Karen: Ungodly shriek/grunt/shrunt Whyyyy nootttt?
Others in her party: Karen, oh my gosh, quiet down.
They tried to wave me away. I was weighing in my mind whether walking away had the higher chance of getting me fired from future gigs there or staying and getting into with her did.
I was just going down the “stay and get into it with her track” when the emcee gets up there and goes “Now a special treat for our patrons tonight, local comedian….”
So I just stop myself, lock eyes with Karen, walk backwards to the stage, unflinching.
I grab the microphone, her table is cracking up realizing what’s happened. And I say
“Well I’d hoped to do a show for you tonight folks but looks like that won’t be possible, apparently I’ve been reassigned.”
I start riffing about people who think you work there when you don’t and accuse you of lying and how absurd a concept that is.
But then it’s too perfect. The waitress is coming out with wings and headed straight for her table. I know the waitress, I’ve performed here before.
So I transition and I’m just like “You caught me lady. Can’t hide anymore.” And I grab the wings from the waitress and I’m like “Ooooh, Donna, I see you trying to hone in on my section, can’t you see this is my table?”
And all throughout the rest of the bit I would go over and fill their water glasses, bus their plates. Whenever I hit a dry spot I was like “Alright hold on, got to check in with my customers. Can I interest you in any dessert? How we doing over here? Speak into the mic please.”
Karen hated it, but the others at her table were dying laughing and would even sometimes flag me down for water or appetizers.
The set ends and Karen goes to file a complaint, her friends or coworkers whoever, try to stop her from doing so and some leave the venue because of her.
A couple stay back to try and defend me and I told them not to worry because the manager and I were cool.
But they got to see for themselves. The manager is an old school Armenian guy and he has no tolerance for this bulls***. This particular venue was a biker bar before the area got gentrified, so he’s used to dealing with way rowdier customers than Karen.
So she’s going off about mistreatment at the hands of his employee and how I’m probably not licensed to be a food server (lol) and that she wanted something done.
The manager plays dumb just to see her get worked up and goes “Who? This guy?” Even though the entire floor saw me give her a hard time. shrunting “YYYEESSSSSSSSSSS”
Manager: He doesn’t work for me.
Karen: What the f**k are you talking about?
Manager: It’s 11:30PM. He worked for me from 10:00pm until 11:00pm. That’s what I paid him for as a freelancer. That’s over. Now he’s just some guy.
Karen: Well when he was working for you he was rude and abstinent!
Me: What? On stage? Of course I was abstinent, it’s not that kind of show.
Karen (shrunting): YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. See? He’s making fun of how I talk!
Manager: He’s a comedian, that’s what I paid for.
Karen: I was a customer treated poorly in your establishment! He was acting as a server here when he served me and I want a refund on my meal or at the very least (turning dramatically to me, Gollum voice) an apology.
Me: Alright, I might have been a little rude towards the end there, but in my defense, she didn’t tip.
Manager: Is that true? Did you not tip?
Karen: Why would I have tipped the comedian?!
Manager: I thought you said he was acting as a server?
Karen was a little tipsy at this point so somehow drunk logic convinced her smashing a glass would get her point across. All it did was get the manager to have her bounced.
Her remaining friends apologized to the manager and said they barely knew her and they hoped this wouldn’t mean they couldn’t come in there anymore (without her) and he was super nice about it.
I told them I hoped I hadn’t put a damper on their night and they said they can’t wait to tell everyone else about Karen’s outburst.
So, I don’t have a career as a waiter in my future. Kudos to all you service workers who put up with these insufferable people day in and out.
We were out getting groceries last week, as we were checking out I was bagging up all our stuff because the store now requires that you bag your own goods if you bring your own bags. No big deal. He pays, and I stay to help a very elderly lady behind him bag her groceries and put them in her cart (he had helped her unload them) and we offered to help her put them in her car. She shuffles away from the register and I move to follow, as I turn away I hear behind me “Where the HELL do you think you’re going?”
I turn to see a very angry looking woman glaring at me. I told her politely that I didn’t work at the store and I had just helped the elderly lady to be polite and that I was now leaving with my husband to go home. I had never met an American Karen before so I thought this would be the end of it, I turn to walk away and feel a vice grip on my arm. “Don’t be LAZY! Just do your job and help bag my groceries!”
I didn’t even have time to respond, she had barely finished speaking when my husband wrenched her hand off me and was yelling in her face. This was the first time in the 10 years we’ve been together that I saw the old soldier come out, his nose might have been 3 inches from hers and his voice was loud and frightening, “WHO THE F*** DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? HOW DARE PUT YOUR HANDS ON MY WIFE! SHE TOLD YOU SHE DOESN’T WORK HERE, ARE YOU TOO F***ING STUPID TO UNDERSTAND SIMPLE ENGLISH? GO PAY FOR YOUR S***, BAG YOUR OWN DAMN GROCERIES AND DON’T YOU DARE UTTER ANOTHER F***ING SOUND!”
The the silence after that was intense, a store full of people could hear a pin drop. The look on her face wasn’t even angry, it was pure terror. She shuffled back to here isle and waited for the cashier. My husband went to the old lady and said, “I am so sorry you had to hear all that, ma’am. I apologize if my language was offensive. I hope you will still allow us to help you load your groceries into your car.”
It was surreal, like he had just flipped on a switch and flipped it back off.
Also, we got chased down by the store manager who suggested we could be banned because of the yelling and bad language. Husband just shrugged and said they had better ban the Karen too for assaulting me, and that there are other grocery stores in town, we just go to this one because it’s close. Didn’t get banned.
Image credits: FrenchFrie83
A few years ago, I was a sweet summer child freshly out of college with zero idea what I wanted to do with my life, I was a homeowner after maternal unit moved overseas and gave the house to me, and I decided to work for a house painting company for one summer while I got my metaphorical ducks in a row.
The next summer, I was out of the painting business and working as an EMT, which meant sometimes I would have a full day or two off (24 on/48 off). I noticed my house was in some need of paint touch ups, so I decided to do them myself. I had brushes, paint, nothing to do, and some beer, so I went at it one Tuesday afternoon.
So I’m working on the frame of the front door, dressed in old painter whites and a T-shirt with the sleeves cut off, and I sit down to let the primer dry and have a beer. I’m happily perched on the front step when I notice a can-I-speak-to-your-manager haircut with a face that looks like she just ate 12 lemons staring at me from the sidewalk. My front lawn is decently long and slopes down a hill, but I could see an artery pulsing in her neck from my spot.
She had a dog next to her, so I just wave and say “cute dog!” I guess my words broke the floodgates, and she unleashed upon me a verbal assault of which I understood about 30%.
The gist: “HOW DARE YOU DRINK ON THE JOB ON THIS NICE PROPERTY. YOU DON’T DESERVE TO SIT THERE AND WASTE THE HARD EARNED MONEY OF THE WELL EDUCATED PERSON THAT OWNS THIS PLACE”
While I’m pondering this, she’s still spewing frothing condescension at me, which culminated in “UNEDUCATED, LAZY, MENIAL, FREELOADING, IMMIGRANT DRUNKS LIKE YOU ARE WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS COUNTRY”
Well, I’m white. Like, really white. Blond hair, green eyes. Born and raised in the good old US of A. Specifically, in this house. Perhaps I look like some sort of insidious immigrant from far away, so I stand up and make my way down to her, but not before cracking open another beer.
She’s positively quivering with anger and indignation, her dog is pulling at the leash to say hi to me, and so I bend down to say hello back, when she says “WELL, WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF?”
I raise myself to my full 6’2” height, which towers over her little 5’ nothing self. She doesn’t back down, and the following conversation ensues.
Me: “Hello ma’am, what seems to be the problem?”
Her: scoffs “YOU. Sitting there wasting the homeowner’s money so you can get paid to be a lazy drunk.”
Me: “Oh, I’m being paid? Seems odd, I didn’t feel the need to pay myself for this, but I suppose that could be fun to try.”
Her, gears turning: “Pay yourself? Don’t make me laugh, some deadbeat like you couldn’t afford this house. You need an education for a real job.”
I’m wondering what her education fixation is all about, but not caring all that much, I just want to entertain her conversation enough to really get her mad. Maybe her head will explode.
Me: “Well, I didn’t buy this house, my mother did, but she left it to me when she moved overseas after I graduated from college.”
Her, smirking: “Oh, did you go to local community college, known for not being that great? Only someone working as a painter would go there.”
Me: “Actually, if you look at my shirt, you’ll see it says ‘Ivy League School Athletics’, which is where I attended school and played a sport. I am in good shape because of that, so I figured I would keep that up by working on improving my own home while having a few beers to cool off in this heat. Did you attend community college? Because if so, I can see how you might not be able to understand that.”
Disclaimer: nothing wrong with that CC, it’s where I got my EMT license. Just wanted to watch her boil, and oh boy did she.
Her eyes widen bigger than I thought possible, and her mouth starts working like elderly folks‘s do when they’ve lost a lot of teeth, lots of lip twisting. This culminates in her reading her ugly head back, and spitting on the front of my shirt. “You probably stole that from someone, you ungrateful piece of s**t.”
Okay, wow, not sure what I’m ungrateful for, and ew germs, so I tell her that’s it’s been fun but I’m going to continue working and turn to walk back up the lawn. She grabs the back of my shirt and attempts to pull me backwards, doesn’t work, so I spin around and smack her hand off me.
She flops like a premier league soccer player, flinging herself all over my lawn, howling like she’s been shot. She’s let go of the dog’s leash, so he comes over to me for pets, happy as a clam.
Her yodeling has brought some neighbors out of their homes, including my cool next door ones. They come over and I give them the story, and ask for their phone to call the cops (mine was inside charging), they laugh and hand it over. I let the cops know that some cootcanoe is gyrating loudly on my lawn, could they please come remove her.
I return to my work, my cool neighbors probably have started making popcorn. A little while later, I hear the cops arrive, Crazy is still singing her f****d up opera, and starts screaming at the cops a story of a belligerently drunk squatter (who’s painting said site of squatting??) who chased her with a baseball bat and broke her arm in multiple places. Her talons point to me, so I come down and tell the cops the whole story.
They crack up, apparently they know the nutcase by name, and so they tell her to call her husband to get the dog “again”, and cuff her for trespassing and disorderly conduct. Dog hung out with me until the husband, apologizing profusely, came and got him. He also informed me that they are in divorce proceedings, so that may have made her “crazier than usual”.
Never saw the lady again, thank god, but have developed a neighborly friendship with her ex and the pup. Alls well that ends well.
I was an adjuster for “Lizard Insurance” and would go to many tow lots after car accidents and decide if a car was a total loss or send it to a body shop, as well as do the initial write up of an estimate on repair costs. the tow lot i was at this day also worked with the state police and housed their overflow storage for anything deemed evidence and on hold from release. these vehicles were kept behind a locked gate inside the already fenced, gated tow yard.
i was there to do a appraisal on two vehicles that had been involved in a minor accident however both were left unable to drive from the scene due to either multiple flats, lights knocked out or windows busted. i’ve finished the first vehicle and i’ve started taking photos of the second vehicle. i have headphones in and i’m listening to the album “Cavalcade” by The Flatliners (seriously, check them out.) anyhoot, i see a woman i’d guess around 50 walk up to the police evidence lot and the gate swing open out of the corner of my eye. not paying much attention as the vehicles i was working with were on the same side of the lot but about 50 meters down from the evidence lot. as my back is turned to this woman i will hear on refer to as karen i take the last couple of photos i need, the last being a photograph of the vin of the vehicle which is located where the windshield meets the hood almost on the dash through the windscreen (hope this makes sense.
Karen out of literally nowhere grabs both cables to my headphones from behind and rips them out of my ears.
Karen: EXCUSE ME… why are there two cars in front of mine so i cannot get it out. (this lot would stack cars in 4 or 5 deep side by side and move them around with a small truck to release them.)
Me: please don’t touch me and i don’t think you should be in there AND i don’t w-
Karen: you shouldn’t be listening to music on the job anyway or slacking off taking pictures of other peoples belongings, you’re probably back here stealing.
i attempt to point at the “Lizard Insurance” logo on my blue jacket but Karen continues on
Karen: are you going to do your job or do i need to call the police because you’re refusing to give me my property.
Me: have you went into the office at ABC Towing?
Karen: no i saw you here and you need to move these cars so i can get mine and leave.
(as Karen opens the door and gets into the first car in the ones blocking her)Me: HEY! HEY! NO! you can’t go in there that is police evidence
(i use my cell phone to call ABC Towing and inform them)Karen: if you won’t move these cars then i will, where are the f*****g keys?
Me: In the office with the employees.
at this time the Manager comes running out with one of those weird smart phone/nextel style phones in his hand.
M (ABC Manager): hey lady get the hell out of there those cars are property of the state police!(M frantically uses his nextel to talk to someone.)
M sees the chain used to keep the lot closed has been cut WITH BOLT CUTTERS YALL, Karen was carrying a pair of bolt cutters and had thrown them into her car when she was back at it.
M and Karen argue back and forth, i intently listen and half pay attention as i finish my duties for work.
about 8-10 minutes pass and SEVEN police cars come flying back into the lot.
M greets the police and explains what is going on, but not after Karen attempts to scream at the police that I had stolen her car. P (Police) tell Karen to stand over in a direction he points, sending one officer to wait with her. turns out the Lieutenant was on scene who was in charge of the County’s Police Tow Licenses.
after getting M’s story LT comes to me and takes mine, while i’m informing him of what happens Karen overhears and starts yelling and attempting to approach me, the officer standing with her grabbed her by her arm. Karen yanked that arm out of the female officers hand and shoved her, surprisingly knocking the officer down. Karen is screaming incoherently as she charges toward me. the LT steps in front of me and with his taser hits karen with the most beautiful sound in the world. Karen goes limp and face plants in the dirt/light gravel of the lot and skids slightly. they immediately handcuff her.
turns out karen had walked onto the lot carrying the bolt cutters while i was in the office talking with staff about the two cars i needed to adjust. she had been roaming the lot until she saw me and i happened to be near her car.
Karen was charged with burglary, two counts of tampering with evidence, assault on a police officer, assault on me, trespassing and resisting arrest. i know Karen did jail time but i’m not sure how much. years later the tow company i now own impounded her car for being double parked, she remembered who i was and quietly paid.
So me and my gf were hanging out in this store that had a bit of everything when she decides to look for some covers for her phone, I stayed in an corridor near there looking at the tech stuff when suddenly a lady comes to me.
(I was wearing jeans and a red polo I guess she exanged me for an employee even if they had a blue uniform)
Lady: Hey you, can you tell me where I can get [item]?
Me: (I look around for a second before looking back at her) I don’t know, I don’t w-
She interrupts me before I could say the magic word “I don’t work here” and says
Lady: You brown people are all the same don’t know how to treat customers, disgusting!
Me: the face I made as she leaves mfw
I’m about to go to my gf and tell her the story about this crazy lady, but before I could reach her this lady comes back and I kid you not she starts spraying those house deodorants in my face blinding me.
Lady: serves you right for being lazy and [racial slur]
Me: wtf, HELP!
My gf heared me yelling and came and before I could say anything I could hear the lady realize that I didn’t infact worked there as my gf calls the police and I guess staff didn’t let her leave because when I could see again after washing my eyes she was crying getting arrested, police asked If I’d like to press charges I said yes.
Even if I was an employee there thats no way to treat people, treat others as you wish to be treated.
Ps: I went for a checkup to my eyes after that and everything was alright.
I was getting wipers for my car because mine aren’t clearing the rain off my window anymore… It’s a riveting story.
They have this touch screen thing there where you select the vehicle and it tells you the specific sizes you need for each wiper and brand. I was fiddling with the screen and going through the different sizes and makes of wipers and reading reviews on each one (I research everything before I buy it, drives my wife crazy) I hear someone behind me say excuse me. I think she wants to use the screen to figure out what wiper to buy, so I move to the section that has the wiper brand I’m interested in and start looking for the size I need.
My assumption was wrong.
She followed me to where I was now poking through the very badly stocked wipers.
From now on I’ll be ME, and she’ll be douchecanoe, which I’ll shorten to DC.
DC: “Why did you walk away from me, that’s very rude.”
I didn’t even know she was talking to me at this point. So I kept looking at wipers.
DC: ” This is unbelievable! I’m talking to you.”
I finally click in that I’m the one she’s talking to. So I stupidly turn to face her while gripping a 28 inch wiper like a toddler holds a crayon. ME: “You talking to me?”
DC: “Yeah you. I need to know what size wiper to get for my Mercedes.”
ME: “That’s what the screen is for.” I said as I gesture towards it with the wiper in my hand and go back to searching for the second elusive 28 incher.
DC: “You are terrible at your job, this isn’t proper customer service.” She said all huffy.
ME: ” Umm, I don’t work here. I’m gonna go back to this now.”
DC: “I want to speak to your manager right now. This isn’t how you treat customers. Ignoring me and refusing to help me, its disgraceful.” At this point she kind of stomps off, but only a few aisles away, and the aisles in the automotive department aren’t full height ones, they are like chest height so you can see right across the whole department. She just does a few laps of the aisles around where I am, she’s looking all over the place for a manager but not going far, I think so she doesn’t lose sight of me.
ME: “Still don’t work here. So going to be hard to find that manager… and you’re not listening to me… ok… ” I say to her and trail off as she’s obviously not caring at all. I go back to my wipers.
While she’s on her walk I find my wiper and start to head towards the check outs. She chases me down and gets in front of me, trying to stop my escape before a manager gets there.
DC: “No! You’re not allowed to leave until I speak to your manager about you!”
I’ve had enough of this buffoon. I pull out my phone and call my manager. I’m self employed, so I call the one person in my life who could reasonably be called my manager. The wife, henceforth referred to as BOSS.
ME: “I’ll call her for you, you aren’t going to be able to find her here.”
I put it on speaker phone so the crazy lady can hear. As the phone rings she’s giving me this superior smirk like I’m about to get my ass chewed out.
ME: “Hey, how’s the trip going? (She’s on a business trip)
BOSS: “Great, been having a some excellent meetings with the L3’s (VP level people). What’s up?”
ME: ” Picking up some wipers.”
BOSS: “And you’re so jazzed about them that you needed to call me in the middle of the day?”
DC is getting really frustrated at this point, I’m obviously not getting to the me getting fired fast enough for her.
ME: “Nope, got a lady here at Canadian Tire who wants to talk to my manager. I kind of thought you’re the closest thing to that. Want to talk to her?”
BOSS: “What the hell Labtc?! Am I on speaker phone?”
ME: “Oh yeah, the crazy lady can hear you, how else is she supposed to talk to my manager? Say hi to the crazy lady.”
DC is finally starting to realize that I don’t have a store logo on my shirt, and that maybe I’m not an employee.
BOSS: “You’re such a jacka**. I’m sorry ma’am, my husband is an idiot. But he doesn’t work there.” I start to laugh at this point.
ME: “It’s cool hun, she seems kind of slow or something. She probably doesn’t realize I’m laughing at her.” I say through my laughter while DC makes some kind of appalled noise from the back of her throat and stalks off.
I managed to get my wipers and leave the store after that without any further incident. My wife thinks I was mean to her. I say I was fighting stupidity with dumbassery.
Tl,dr: Crazy lady demanded to talk to my manager, so I called the one person in my life who can be called my manager. My wife.
Image credits: [deleted]
This happened a couple of months ago. Backstory, I’m a youth worker and part of my job involves taking clients to a bowling alley. I do this a few times a week, sometimes more than once a day, and usually at odd times (9am Monday bowling anyone?) so the place is basically my second office and we have a good relationship with the proprietors.
During the quiet hours, they only have two staff working; one in the office/front-desk/cafe (three separate locations btw), and one behind the scenes. It means that often there’s a bit of standing around waiting when the front of house staff member is in a different area. Myself and the other weekday regulars (mostly senior bowlers) are used to it – it actually works well for me because part of what I’m doing there is teaching my clients social skills and coping strategies, so having to occupy yourself and be patient and polite is a good teaching moment.
My client and I have finished bowling, and we’re sitting at the cafe eating and talking quietly when a man approaches the unattended cafe and immediately starts huffing and pacing restlessly. I side-eye him, but keep talking to the kid. A minute later he comes and looms over our table and says “EXCUSE ME” in an aggressive tone.
Now I’ve got my calm neutral face on but inside I’ve started gibbering because
I hate confrontation
This guy is actually massive
The kids I work with are the zero-to-kick your f*****g teeth in kind. And they often get very protective of their workers, in a sweet but f****d up kind of way. So if this guy tries to start something, there’s a good chance there will be red and blue flashing lights in my immediate future.
“Yes?” I enquired politely, keeping one eye on the kid, one hand on my phone, and a vapid smile on my face.
“How ’bout you do your farken job?” He leaned down over the table. His breath was as unpleasant as the rest of him.
I was surprised, because sitting at a bowling alley eating curly fries with a 15 year old at 10am on a Tuesday WAS my job, and I was doing it well thank you very much! I was also alarmed because said 15 year old has become very still and very tense. Not good.
I moved back in my seat and resumed the vapid smiling. “Oh, sorry, I don’t work here. Sometimes you have to wait a minute for someone to see you and come over, but otherwise maybe try the front desk?”
“Well you’re dressed like you farken work ‘ere!” He leaned over more and jabbed (JABBED! HE JABBED ME!) my chest.
The staff at this bowling alley wear black trousers and violently orange polo shirts, that match the violently orange walls. Awful. I’m glad I don’t drink because going in there with a hangover would kill me. I was wearing baggy hippy pants, my purple Manic Pixie Dream Tarantula tee, and a sparkly sequinned backpack. And a lanyard with the word “staff” printed on it.
I held up the company ID card at the end of the lanyard, which identified me as an employee of the non-profit I work for. “No, sorry, I work for [company name]. We’re customers here. Now if you don’t mind, you’re being very rude.” [me, trying to role model, terrified]
I smiled my best ‘everything is fine’ smile to the kid eyeing the cutlery bucket.
“Don’t talk to me like that you little b***h! I want 3 beers and some farken wings.” He actually smacked the table with his hand. I looked over to the main area. Oh goody, he has friends.
I leaned back as far as I could (the wall was behind me, tables either side, and him blocking my exit). The kid stood up. Bad. Staff member spotted us and started rushing over. Good.
We had a time for a few rounds of “I want to speak to your manager” “I don’t work here though, please let me out” before the actual manager of the bowling alley reached us. He pulled the guy away so I could get up, but dude wants to speak to my manager and won’t let up.
Manager says “I am the manager here”.
Dude: “You’re her manager?”
Manager:”…no, she doesn’t work here…”
Dude, to me: “I want to speak to your manager NOW”
At this point I figured, why not, handed him one of our company business cards, and said “Ask for [my manager’s name]”. He turned away to dial the number and I grabbed the kid and whispered “now watch him make a d**k of himself”. Kid laughs and relaxes a bit (thank f**k), and the three of us stand in a row and watch this dips**t call my actual manager and complain that I wouldn’t serve him beer and chicken wings. My manager actually took the complaint on an official form and made me sign it when I got back to the office.
Meanwhile, dude is banned, the bowling alley gave the kid a huge pile of free arcade tokens in apology, and I was able to get him to give me back the knife he stole before I dropped him home. Wins all round.
This happened years ago. I’m (M) at Walmart and a lady asks for help with a heavy item. I talked to her for a while then continued to do my shopping. I went through checkout and the lady was talking to the manager (F) by the registers. She pointed at me and the manager smiled. I walked up to them as the manager explained that he (OP) works at Wendy’s. The lady was slightly embarrassed but we walked out together. I loaded the stuff into the back seat and talked to her husband that was waiting for her. She kept saying “you know” just like my great grandmother.
The next day my manager asked it I was the one that helped the lady at Walmart. There are a few of us with the same name. So I do a little nice thing and this lady goes out of her way to tell my manager about it and I remember it for the rest of my life.
Image credits: ABearSniffedMyHead
My husband is a peaceful giant. He is 6 ft 5 and can look quite imposing even though he really is a teddy bear. Never stressed or aggressive, never overreacting our raising his voice, just a peaceful giant.
So here we are, at the grocery shop, with our 6 mo baby shopping for food and whatnot. It is winter in Canada (so, you know, cold) and we are both wearing our coats. The kid is fussy and nothing really calms him except when we carry him in our arms. It is my turn and my husband is going back and forth gathering what we need and bringing the items to our cart when the banshee-from-hell (BFH from now on) got in his face (figure of speech, she was like 5 ft 2) and started yelling at him.
BFH: ARE YOU DONE? You’ve been helping her FOREVER and I NEED HELP! NOW!
Husband: (with his smooth everything-is-good kind of tone) I’m so sorry (we’re Canadians), but I’m afraid I do not work here…
BFH: BULLS***! I just saw you help HER shopping. NOW, you help ME! AND YOU DO NOT TALK BACK TO ME!
BFH: STOP! Don’t talk to me unless it is to thank me. Are we clear?
My husband sees me boiling and about to interfere but makes a sign that’s says he is going to deal with it. He then calmly look at her with a smile.
BFH: (smuggling) GOOD! Now, help me grad the last (item I don’t remember, probably some king of condiment) on this high shelve. WHY IN HELL you people always put the stuff I need so high is BEYOND me. Now, chop-chop!
My husband grabs the item, but instead of giving it to her, he keeps it just a tiny bit out of her reach. He looks at it and then at me.
Husband: (grining) Honey, do we need (condiment)?
Me: (catching on) Well, as a matter of fact, yes! We do!
Lady: WHAT?! HOW DARE YOU GIVE HER MY STUFF! IT’S MY STUFF! GIVE IT TO ME!!!
Super slowly, my husband gets closer to the lady. He is so imposing that she calms down immediately. With the biggest of smile and the most polite voice ever, he says to her:
Husband: Again, I do not work here… but thank you for showing me (condiment). We were about to forget it.
And with that, he puts the item in our cart, grabs the baby and together, we left. In the background, the lady howling some profanities. All three of us smiling. I love my husband.
Image credits: poweredbyweirdhumor
So in the ’90s I rented a large workshop with two friends. I was a woodworker and the other two were metal workers so obviously none of us resembled the previous business, which had installed skylights, in any way.
Cue the customer of the previous business. C. I have condensed this as the verbatim conversation went on for a *very* long time.
Arrives at my door. A real “Karen”.
C: “I need repairs done to the skylights you installed”
Me: “Sorry, that business has moved and I don’t know where they are now”
C: ” No, I need you to send someone over NOW. The Skylights are leaking”
Me: ” As I said, that business has gone. We are a different company.”
C: “No, RIGHT NOW!”
Repeat the above a half dozen times…
About now I am realizing I am dealing with either genuine looney or else someone too entitled to listen to plain common sense. I try another tact, caveman speech, who knows it might get through.
Me: “Skylight business gone. New business come. You talking to new business now. Unnerstand?” (Ook)
Me: “Nooooo skylight here!!! Try look in f*****g phone book! You bugger off now!”
C leaves in a big huff.
It’s all about communication folks.
Image credits: Kookabanus
At the after party, I also didn’t realize the waiters were dressed exactly like me. White shirt, black tie, shined shoes.
I’m walking around and a nice older lady (who would turn out to be the mother of the bride) approached me as I passed her table. She needed an extra seat for her table.
Her: “Excuse me…can we move this chair over here?”
Me: “Uh…yeah. Go ahead.”
Her: “Do you think that will inconvenience the other table?”
Me: “I mean, that sounds like that’s the other table’s problem.” (yes, I really said this)
Her: “…uh…alright. Are there extra chairs in the back?”
Me: “…probably? I mean, they know there is a wedding going on so I think it’ll be okay.”
Her: “…o-okay.Well, thank you.”
Me internally: (that was weird)
Later, I had to go to that same table to drop off my portion of the wedding purse. And that nice lady was there with her sister.
Me: “Hello again.”
Her: “Oh hi. Great timing. Do you know when we’ll be eating?”
Me: “No, but I can’t wait. Wedding food is the best, isn’t it?”
Her: somewhat annoyed”Well, with what we’re paying for this, I’d imagine it would be.”
Me: “And thank you very much for paying for it. Really, I’m so happy to be here.”
Me: “…um, so is this where we leave the wedding gifts?”
Her: “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Haha. You don’t work here!”
2 seconds later, a waiter dressed like me walks by I understand. We all had a good laugh about it.
Image credits: Wolvenfire86