“I Don’t Even Work Here”: Tales Of Mistaken Identity

30. Grand Theft Golf Cart

I work golf maintenance at a very fancy golf course during the summers while in college and I did it in high school too. I was working the driving range one day and getting stuff ready and this lady is hitting golf balls and decides to come over to me, red in the face, and say “Excuse me young man, you aren’t allowed to use that cart, didn’t your grandparents tell you?”

I say to her, “Ma’am, I work here, I’m most definitely allowed to use the cart.” She then looks like she is sucking a lemon and says, “Don’t lie to me, I know you’re staying with your grandparents for 4th of July and you took a cart from one of those Mexicans who actually work here trying to be cute.” I was floored. I had no idea what to say because I couldn’t believe she felt the need to not only be prejudiced towards my coworkers/friends but also condescending towards me.

I just go, “Alright ma’am, I need to get back to work.” She grabs my arm and says “No, you’re coming with me, I know the general manager and he will throw you out personally.” I grin and say, “Alright fine then I’ll come with you. We take her cart back to the clubhouse and go in to the general manager’s office. She goes through the whole rant saying how I took a cart and pretended to be an employee and got very loud.

Then, after she finished, she says, “What do you have to say for yourself?” I turn to the GM and say, “Well Dad, you see the thing is…” and she interjects “Wait, this is your son?? You let your son go and steal carts from the help?” My father just says, “Ma’am he works here, there is no problem.” She got extremely embarrassed and just left.

Gojiraandrugby

31. Me Tarzan, You Karen

So in the 90s, I rented a large workshop with two friends. I was a woodworker and the other two were metal workers. As a result, none of our work resembled the previous business, which had installed skylights, in any way. Well, in walks a customer of the previous business. I have condensed this, as the verbatim conversation went on for a very long time.

She arrives at my door and without saying hello she says: “I need repairs done to the skylights you installed.” I reply: “Sorry, that business has moved and I don’t know where they are now.” She says: “No, I need you to send someone over NOW. The skylights are leaking.” I reply, “As I said, that business has gone. We are a different company.”

She’s not listening. She yells: “No, RIGHT NOW!” Repeat the above a half dozen times. At this point, I am realizing I am dealing with either a genuine looney or someone too entitled to listen to plain common sense. I try another tact—caveman speech. Who knows, it might get through. So I grunt: “Skylight business gone. New business come. You talking to new business now. Unnerstand?”

She’s stammering, so I yell: “Nooooo skylight here!!! Try look in the friggin’ phone book! You bugger off now!” She then leaves in a big huff. It’s all about communication folks.

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32. Hush, Little Baby(s)

My husband is a peaceful giant. He is 6’5″ tall and can look quite imposing even though he really is a teddy bear. Never stressed or aggressive, never overreacting or raising his voice, just a peaceful giant. So here we are, at the grocery shop, with our six-month-old 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 this banshee of a woman got in his face—a figure of speech, because she was like 5’2″—and started yelling at him. She says: “ARE YOU DONE? You’ve been helping her FOREVER and I NEED HELP! NOW!”

My husband, with his smooth everything-is-good kind of tone, says, “I’m so sorry, but I’m afraid I do not work here…” She yells: “LIAR! I just saw you help HER shopping. NOW, you help ME! AND YOU DO NOT TALK BACK TO ME!” He tried to interrupt her but she yells: “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. She says, “GOOD! Now, help me grab the last (item I don’t remember, probably some king of condiment) on this high shelf. WHY do you people always put the stuff I need so high?! 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 was about to teach her a lesson.

He looks at it and then at me. He grins and says, “Honey, do we need (condiment)?” I catch on and say, “Well, as a matter of fact, yes! We do!” The lady yells, “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: “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.

poweredbyweirdhumor

33. A Particular Set Of Skills

In the UK there is a system for preserving ancient and important buildings. If a building has historical importance it is known as a “Listed building” and the rules about how it’s developed/maintained/improved are VERY strict. I need to be vague about the work involved otherwise it’s too easy to identify the parties involved.

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 by the main contractor, ACC Ltd.

One part of the work is VERY specialized. The contractor’s 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. Five days into the work, the owner of ACC Ltd., the main contractor company, arrived on site. This is when things started to go downhill very fast.

He was throwing his weight around and being a “noisy idiot” (David’s words). David was just doing his job and ignored him. Noisy idiot told one of his carpenters to get him a coffee. The carpenter disappeared. Noisy idiot continued wandering and “gobbing off” about delays “costing him a fortune.” 15 minutes after the carpenter had disappeared, the Noisy Idiot asked my friend a question.

Noisy Idiot : “Where is that bloody carpenter with my coffee?” David: “Don’t know.” Noisy Idiot: “Go and find out.” David: “I’m only here for this job (pointing to the walls), I don’t work for ACC Ltd.” Noisy Idiot: “I don’t care if you’re an employee or a subcontractor, you still work for me. Now go and find my bloody 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 Idiot: “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 Idiot : “A bloody day laborer? And you’ve got the nerve to talk to like that? Do you know who I am?” David: “Yep.” Noisy Idiot: “Well you’re bloody fired. Get off the bloody site NOW!” David: “Okay, put it in writing.” Noisy Idiot : “Oh please. Just get off the bloody site.” David pulled his phone out and started recording.

David: “Okay, I’ll go. I just want proof you told me to go.” Noisy Idiot grabbed David’s hand holding the phone and screamed into the phone. Noisy Idiot: “GET OFF THE SITE YOU BLOODY IDIOT. YOU’RE FIRED. IF YOU’RE STILL HERE IN 10 MINUTES I’LL HAVE YOU THROWN OUT.” David: “Cool, no problem.” He picked up all his kit and walked away.

As he was leaving, the 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 (he was 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.” David left.

The Site Manager was losing his mind because he knew something that Noisy Idiot didn’t. Only seven 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. Two 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 apologizes but is “out of the country” so can’t apologize face to face. The idiot boss really got what he deserved. 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.

MostlyGruntled

34. No Way Out

This happened about four years ago when I was looking for work. I got a second interview for a “marketing” position at a new firm. The interview went well and I was offered a trial shift the following Monday. On turning up, it became clear that this wasn’t a marketing job, but a door-to-door sales job for what was basically a huge MLM.

The “service” was to sign people up for charities on monthly donations. To make matters worse, we were told to lie to consumers about our pay status. We weren’t supposed to tell people that and had to tell them we were salaried. We weren’t—I only found out during the trial that it was commission only. So far, not so good.

When they “offer” me the “job” I let them know I have another interview lined up the following day and tell them I’ll let them know by the end of the week. The interview goes well, it’s a real (albeit temporary role) and I’m offered the job. I inform the MLM of my decision. This is somehow a 30-minute call where he’s still trying to convince me to work for him, with me saying I’m not interested at all.

Fast forward to the next Monday and I’m rudely awakened at 9:15 with a phone call. I answer because I hadn’t saved this number. It’s a guy from the MLM yelling: “Where the heck are you?!?!?” I’m like, “Sorry? wh-” MLM guy cuts me off, saying “You were meant to be here at 8:30. This isn’t a good start to your first day, is it? Why are you so late?”

I’m still half-asleep so I ask: “Sorry but who is this?” MLM guy identifies himself—it’s not the guy I interviewed with. He says: “You know the company who YOU work for, it’s too late now your team has left, you better be on time tomorrow.” I say, “Sorry there must’ve been a misunderstanding, I got offered a job elsewhere and accepted that role, sorry for this.”

He yells, “Well, you should have told us this, it’s not professional to just not turn up and we would’ve hired someone else, now your team is short staffed…” I’m like “Not my problem, check with my interviewer, anyway I need to go, bye.” Hoping this is resolved, I get up and go about my day. Tuesday morning, I am again awakened to the same guy demanding reasons for me not turning up to work.

Apparently, not working for them isn’t a valid excuse. This amazing sequence of calls continued until the following Monday, where I was “let go” for “unauthorized” absences. When I asked if this means he’ll stop phoning me, he told me to grow up and be professional about it. Think I dodged a bullet there…

GingrPenguin

35. Brings A New Meaning To Customer “Service”

I used to be a service consultant at a Mercedes-Benz dealership. A guy in his 20s just bought an older car & comes in for the first time so I help him out. I get all his info & create a new customer profile in our database; this takes about five-ten minutes so I usually casually talk to the customer during the process. I notice he looks tired so I ask him if he worked third shift or something, since it was about 8:00 AM.

He mentions he’s been up all night as a “bodyguard” for his wife—then he hands me a camouflage business card with her cam girl name & web address all over it. He casually mentions, “If you ever get feeling a little lonely, give her a look online.” I put the card on my desk, he signs the repair order, I verify the phone number I’ll need to call later that day to get approval for repairs.

A few hours later after the technician has diagnosed the car’s problem, I call the number and a woman answers. I say, “Hey there, I’m calling from Mercedes.” The woman, in a quiet, bedroomy voice asks: “Did you send the picture?” Me: “I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean.” She says: “You’re supposed to send me a picture of yourself before we start playing, then maybe we’ll meet up.”

I say: “I apologize again but I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I started to wonder if I dialed the wrong number. Right here I realize this is the wife and she thinks I’m trying to party. So I say: “This is the Mercedes-Benz dealership. I’m calling about your Mercedes-Benz. Your car needs to be serviced, not me.” Her voice changes instantly and she starts talking normally. “Oh, so what’s going on with the car?”

After the call, I took the business card and ran back to the shop to tell all the techs what happened.

mozilathelaptopkilla

36. Let Me Upgrade You

I was in a dollar store trying to check out but delayed because Karen was busy complaining to the cashier about the quality of the products in the dollar store. To which I said, “Karen, if you don’t like the quality here, then go somewhere more upscale like Walmart…or if you got the budget…Target.” I was just trying to help, of course. She then asked for a manager, cause that’s what Karens do.

The manager came and for the next solid two minutes she was complaining to the manager about how her staff was very rude and suggested she should shop at Walmart or Target how insane it is to hire staff that promotes the competition. The cashier is smirking, I’m smiling from ear to ear. Karen finishes off with, “If I was you, I’d fire such an employee!” to which the manager said “Which employee said that?”

Karen and the cashier all pointed at me, there standing with a my Coke and a bag of chips. To which the manager goes “Ma’am, he’s not an employee.” Karen goes, “Then why is he here?” Manager looks at me and looks at her and goes “…buying stuff?”

PJExpat

37. Mother Doesn’t Know Best

I had a rather terrible Memorial Day weekend, long and rather boring story short I had a seizure and face-planted my bedroom door. After a fun ride to the hospital on back board and neck brace a whole bunch of tests followed and I was admitted because as it turns out my auto-immune condition is quite being managed as well as I thought it was.

After the first couple days sleeping off the concussion and medication side effects I make it to the third day and feel well enough to walk around and even make a trip to the cafeteria downstairs to get something better than the standard hospital food. Now I didn’t really have much in the way of clothing—my wife brought my favorite hoodie and clean underthings, but forgot pants of all things—so a really nice nurse scrounged up a pair of the hospital’s blue scrub pants for me.

So, I was happily free of the IV cart for the next few hours and decided to get some chocolate milk and maybe a tasty snack to treat myself and lift my spirits a bit. But it ended up being a rather sad, frustrating affair before I could even make it onto the elevator. I’m pretty slow walking but I’m just content to not be confined to bed or tangled in tubes so I enjoy the sunlight and make friendly conversation with the day shift nurses as I pass by. Sometimes it’s the small things that make me happy. But all that happiness goes away in an instant.

I make it to the waiting area and elevator lobby when a 60-year-old woman with the sourest expression on her face steps off the elevator—like sucked on a whole barrel of lemons type of sour, lips puckered up tighter than a cat’s you-know-what sour. So I try to give her a wide berth but Pucker Face isn’t having it, she marches straight up to me and gets well into my personal space and starts demanding that I take her to her son’s room and give her an immediate run down of his medical ailments.

This is just how she started the conversation. She yells, “Finally, one of you lazy jerks is going to take me to my son’s hospital room and explain to me my baby boy’s condition. I’m his mother after all and that wife of his just hasn’t been taking care of him like she should be.” I basically was like…what? She started berating me and calling me names.

When I tell her I don’t work there, she points out my scrubs. I explain the situation, nope. I show her my patient bracelet with my allergies listed. Nope, she still doesn’t believe me. She tells me she’s going to get me fired. I point down the hall to the head nurse, and suggest that acting like a jerk to people, especially nurses, is a great way to get thrown out of the hospital.

By this time a couple nurses come over—all of them have clear name badges and credentials on display as well as these little communication devices that are like Star Trek Communicators but look and perform a lot less cool. The head nurse, who was so sweet just like all the ones I had during my stay, had taken on the scary resting face that would make me think twice, but it didn’t even scare crazy Pucker Face.

She barges right up to the nurse and demands to be taken to her son, spouting off his name and date of birth to basically everyone on the floor and then demands that I be fired. The head nurse deadpans with a chill game I’m rather envious of, saying, “She doesn’t work here and I’m going to have to ask you to refrain from yelling and harassing people. This is a hospital and people are trying to heal and rest.”

The woman says, “I understand, but this woman isn’t letting me see my son and he needs his mommy right now. She needs to be dealt with for being such a terrible, irresponsible nurse.” The head nurse explains I don’t work there. She still won’t believe it. She’s basically a broken record calling for me to get fired like she’s forgotten why she’s here in the first place.

Head Nurse is calm and has explained it as many different ways as she possibly can and is starting to rub her temples with what must be a nasty headache—finally after a couple seconds of silence, she turns to me. She says, “Hey, you’re fired okay?” Me: “…okay?…” The nurse says, “Go on now, get on your way.” I get on the elevator and head downstairs, incredibly grateful to be away from that monstrous woman and go to collect my well-deserved prize and text my wife about the whole thing—she’ll find it hilarious. What happened next was the perfect revenge.

It turns out when they look up information for her son—who happens to be two rooms down from mine—he specifically said his mother is on the list of people who absolutely under no circumstances could be allowed to visit. So, I watched her get dragged kicking, screaming, and biting through the hospital’s main lobby when I was returning from the cafeteria.

The chocolate milk and cookies were twice as tasty after that. The son turned up that evening to apologize for his mother since news of the crazy lady spread across the floor like wild fire. He and his family were really cool. Looks like we’re going to be physical therapy buddies now and we can swap crazy mom stories together.

calypso_cane

38. I’m Only Human After All

I worked in Data Support (as fun as it sounds) for a company that was situated in the business district of my city. In that job it was extremely important to leave the building on your lunch, not doing so meant others assumed you were having a working lunch. On lunch, I would go into the shopping areas of the city and just look around, grab something to eat and ensure I was back in work at exactly the time I needed to be and no earlier.

This day I decided to go into Primark, which is a clothing store in the UK. I was casually browsing the shirts and completely in a world of my own. I must have been looking around the same area for a few minutes when I felt a presence to the right of me. Now, this isn’t unusual, busy store, middle of lunch time and a fairly tight space between the clothes rails.

I get fed up of looking at the shirts, and turn to walk away, only to get the scare of a lifetime. This man yells “OH JESUS CHRIST!” right next to me. I turn to see the man with a look of sheer terror in his eyes, staring at me for a moment in disbelief. This confused me, a lot. I was about to ask if everything was okay and this guy’s terror turns to a relieved laugh.

Covering his face and turning quite red at the scene he’d just made in a busy store, he said: “I thought you were a mannequin.”

glewis93

39. Familiarity Breeds Contempt

My family moved to the south after I graduated high school, so my brother had two years left and they do block scheduling for classes. All that means is some days he’d get out of school earlier than when we normally had at our old HS. I go to pick him up from school—it’s a three hour bus ride or 15 minute drive if I pick him up—one day about 1 pm, and I’m waiting out in my car in the pickup area kinda near the doors.

Here comes the truancy officer. He says: “Excuse me, miss, but school isn’t out yet, you should be in class.” I reply, “I graduated high school already. I’m here picking up my younger brother, he gets out around 1:15-1:30 pm…” He says: “I’ve seen you here before, you need to be in class. What’s your name?” I show him my out of state ID.

He goes, “I know that last name, you DO go here! Come inside to the office.” I say, “Well obviously my brother and I would have the same last name, we’re siblings…” I go in because 1) I don’t want to keep having this issue every time I pick him up, 2) I do need to collect my brother, as we both have to go to work. We make our way to the office, where the truancy officer tells them to look up my name.

The office lady says: “We don’t have a student by that name, we do have another student with same last name.” The officer replies, “That’s her then, she just gave me the wrong name on purpose.” The office lady tells him, “The other student is male, sir. She doesn’t go here.” I chime in: “That would be my brother, could you page him for me?”

The truancy officer argues, “No, I’ve seen her here before, she goes to school here.” The office lady says: “Sir, she doesn’t go here; we have no record of any student with her name. Leave her be.” My brother arrives to the office, looking confused. He says: “Hey sis, you ready to go?” The truancy officer still doesn’t get it. He says: “See? She does go here! Why would she know students if she doesn’t?”

My brother replies: “My sister is here to pick me up from school, she isn’t in the system because She. Is. Not. A. Student.” Truancy officer: “But I see her every day outsi-” My brother turns to the office lady and asks if we are okay to dip out; she says yes, so we skedaddle. As we’re leaving we can hear the office lady trying to explain to the truancy officer that all current students are in the system and that if he brings in one more random person that he “sees outside everyday” claiming they’re a student, she’s gonna file a complaint on him.

My brother tells me, “I’ve only been going here for a month and I already know that guy is a moron.”

GasStationrRaptor83

40. The Ice Breaker

My fiancé and I met at university, many many miles away from his home city. We were in some of the same classes, and romance blossomed. We’d been a couple for a few months when he said that his parents were coming to see him and wanted to meet me as well. The plan was for us to all go out for dinner together the evening they arrived, however my boyfriend had an unmissable meeting scheduled just before we were meant to be leaving.

We decided that I’d go ahead and meet them alone (and be interrogated…) and my boyfriend would try to hurry up the meeting and go straight to the restaurant from there. I caught the bus into town, however it was just my luck that it broke down halfway through the journey, meaning that I was about 15 minutes behind schedule.

I caught my boyfriend just before his meeting to tell him, and he passed on the message to his parents, who replied almost instantly saying that they were already in the restaurant, and gave the location of their table so I could just join them when I got there. This restaurant was fancy-ish—you’d definitely wear smart-casual clothing to dine there, and staff were all in similar dress of white shirt/blouse, pressed trousers and smart shoes.

I was wearing the smartest dress I had that which was a dark red, definitely not uniform. I get there 10ish-minutes late and a little bit sweaty and out of breath, and spotted my boyfriend’s parents (I’d seen pictures of them so I knew what they looked like) sitting on a table. I put on a “don’t let them know you’re nervous” smile and walked over there.

I say, “Hi there, sorry I’m late, it’s lovely to meet you.” My mother-in-law goes: “Oh, someone’s already taken our drinks order, we’ll be ready to order food when the rest of our party gets here.” I reply, “I’m not your waitress, I’m [my name], [fiancé’s name]’s girlfriend. Sorry for being late.” My poor future mother-in-law turned the colour of my red dress.

She apologized for a good two minutes while my future father in law had a fit of the giggles.

jamaicanmescream

41. Blinded By The White

So me and my girlfriend 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 a corridor nearby looking at the tech stuff when suddenly, a lady comes up to me. I was wearing jeans and a red polo, I guess she mistook me for an employee even if they had a blue uniform.

Lady: “Hey you, can you tell me where I can get [item]?” I look around for a second before looking back at her and saying, “I don’t know, I don’t w-” She interrupted me before I could say the magic word “I don’t work here.” I couldn’t believe what came out of her mouth. She told me: “You brown people are all the same don’t know how to treat customers, disgusting!”

I’m about to go to my girlfriend and tell her the story about this crazy lady, but before I could reach her, this lady comes back. I kid you not, she starts spraying those house deodorant sprays in my face, blinding me. Lady: “Serves you right for being lazy and [insert super inappropriate slur].” Me: “HELP!” My girlfriend heard me yelling and came.

Before I could say anything, I could hear my girlfriend calling the authorities. I guess staff didn’t let her leave, because when I could see again after washing my eyes, she was crying and getting detained. Officers asked If I’d like to press charges. I said yes. Even if I was an employee there, that’s no way to treat people.

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42. Ma’am This Is (Not) A Wendy’s

I’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 by the registers. She pointed at me and the manager smiled. I walked up to them as the manager explained that I actually work 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 if I was the one that helped the lady at Walmart. 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!

ABearSniffedMyHead

43. Eyewitness Account

This story is kinda different. So, I did work there, but I saw it happen to someone who didn’t. I was working in lawn and garden section, I see this autistic young man. I guessed he was autistic, as he seemed predominantly focused on his action and kinda had 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 no one 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 told me that assumption was wrong.

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, so 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. The sudden movement startled the old woman causing her to step backward and lose her balance, causing her to sit down on her behind. 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 okay, 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 detained by the authorities, 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 to make sure he is okay. The 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. Well, I wasn’t about to let her do any more damage than she already had.

I told her not so kindly that a. she was a liar and I had witnessed the whole incident and b. the young man she had forcibly grabbed does not work here and that she had attacked him. By then, a crowd had gathered, and the crazy woman had noticed that no one is believing 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 there regularly and the young man liked to arrange the flowers, it’s calming to him. I express my regrets about the whole incident, and the young man walked over to me and patted my shoulder once and went back to the flowers.

The mom informed me that was basically the equivalent of a high five from him!

Rudedoggg

44. New Year, Old Job

Last holiday season I worked seasonally for Target. It was a disaster from the start. The managers had absolutely no organization whatsoever. I should have known when they scheduled me for my second interview and the manager didn’t even show up I was screwed. Towards the end of the holiday season after Christmas and before New Years, they offered me a non-seasonal part-time position.

I was going to accept but they wanted me to work a TON for part-time and being a college student, they were not willing to be flexible at all. So I said, “Nope, I am done after my last day on January 6.” Everything was good after I was done with that trainwreck and I was starting off my second semester. I had basically forgotten about my disastrous time there—until the phone rang.

It was January 20 at 5:00 PM, two weeks exactly since the last time I’d been there. The manager says: “Hey this is so-and-so, are you running a little late? You were supposed to work at 4:30.” I reply: “Ummm no. I quit over three weeks ago” The manager says: “Uhhh, well we are really short-staffed. Can you come in anyway?”

I tell him: “No. I do not work there anymore, I told you that, and I’m at school.” They won’t give up. He says: “Are you sure you can’t come in anyway?” Thank goodness I’m done with that disaster!

allysundaylee

45. Thanks For The Shirt

My boss went to an outlet mall for Black Friday shopping, and told me this one today. Some random woman asks her: “Excuse me, do you have more of these?” My boss ignores her, continuing to look through the rack. The lady literally throws this sweater across the rack and into my boss’s face, yelling: “I asked you a question and you can answer me right now!” My boss’s reply was legendary.

She says “Thanks!” and decides to buy this sweater just to irritate this lady, and leave the store. After checking out, the crazy lady is screaming over the crowd, “Stop! Where the heck are you think you’re going with MY sweater!” She runs after my boss and grabs her bag, screaming like a madwoman. She’s slapping at my boss, calling her all sorts of things—and insisting she gets fired!

My boss just kept saying, “I don’t work here!” “GET AWAY!” etc. Security shows up to pull the lady away, and she SCRATCHED at their faces!! She gets restrained, falls to the floor and tries to fake a seizure saying, “You’re making me have a seizure,” ‘cause that’s how seizures work. She also yells, “Call 9-1-1!” Well, officers show up, and the madwoman is loaded into the back of the car, AND SHE SPITS ON THE WINDOW! My boss made her statement, and wore the sweater to work today. It’s her new favorite.

Bangbangsmashsmash

46. Jamie Lee Curtis, Eat Your Heart Out

One day, I was shopping at the local Walmart and had my headphones in. These headphones are incredibly nice and a gift from my parents. I had just gotten off work and was in business casual, khakis and a plain grey polo. No logo. Nothing to indicate that I worked at Walmart. I was looking in the freezer section for some ice cream for dessert that night when someone yanks my headphones off my head and they fall on the ground.

Cue Karen starting to yell at me. “I have been trying to get your attention for five minutes! You shouldn’t be listening to music while you work! How can you help customers if you can’t even hear them!?” She screeched at me. Now I am seeing red. If she damaged my headphones there was going to be a big problem. I lean down to pick up my headphones.

Then, I say to this crazy lady, “Don’t you ever touch me you crazy witch. I don’t work here you stupid idiot. Touch me again and I will scream so loud the whole store will hear.” “Don’t you talk to me like that! I am a customer!” She said as she grabbed my bicep to haul me to a manager like a child to be punished. So I let her have it.

I screamed the loudest scream I could possibly imagine. I actually lost my voice for the next day because of it. It startled her so bad that she let me go and dropped her purse. Not even 20 seconds later a manager comes running with the security guy. The manager demanded to be told what was going on. I told him this crazy witch attacked me.

She tore my headphones off my head and grabbed me. I feared for my life (a complete embellishment) so I screamed. By now we have an audience, and the manager takes us both and separates us. Luckily for me, a very nice woman was a little farther down the aisle and saw the whole thing and told the security guy what happened and backed up my story.

She got what was coming—and so did I. The manager asked if I wanted to press charges and I told him no. I just want my ice cream and to go home. He told me to take it. It was on him. As I was leaving I saw the crazy witch getting thrown out of Walmart by the security guy and being told to never set foot in the store again.

SeratoninSerenade

47. Some Assembly Required

This happened several years ago. I was the nighttime charge nurse over the ICU. I’d just finished a 12-hour shift at my hospital that had turned into a 14-hour shift. I was exhausted and had to return for a fourth shift in nine hours. All I wanted were some items to drop in the slow cooker so I’d have something to eat when I got up later that night.

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 wear that. 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. 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. This woman yells, “Hey! Hey!” at me. Startled, me and the nice lady stop our conversation and look over. It’s a lady in her 50s dressed in a cheap-looking beige pantsuit with a “get your manager” hairstyle standing about 15 feet away with a hand on her overly broad hip.

She says, “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. I start to say, “Oh sorry. I don’t work…” and she cuts me off, yelling: “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. “I don’t work he—” but once again, she cuts me off and says, “Just get it done!” She then steps away from her cart to grab her purse grumbling about “stupid idiots” and is digging for her keys when disaster strikes. 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. This awful woman, 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.

The awful woman completely loses her mind and begins raging. She’s swearing at me and yelling: “You moron! Pick them up! ARGH. I’m going to have you fired! You owe me new bookshelves! And I’m late!” At this point, I’m done. I yell: “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: “No! Don’t touch me! Shut your mouth! I do not work here, and even if I did. I’d quit before I help you clean up your pile of garbage!” She stands there speechless.

Like a bottom-feeding fish, her mouth opening and closing. She is absolutely sputtering in shock that I’ve dared raise MY voice at HER. That’s when the manager and an employee come out. As this awful woman sees the manager and finds her voice. I couldn’t believe what she did next. She says: “Are you the manager? This man damaged my bookshelves and is refusing to pay for them.”

I just stare in shock. Seriously?! She’s finally realized that a man in bright blue scrubs with a stethoscope and a big RN badge really doesn’t work here. But 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.

The awful woman 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 the woman and inspects the bookshelves. They are not damaged. He offers her two new boxes but she is now done with the whole situation. She says no.

She’s already too late because of me. Just glares over at me and says to the manager, “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 woman’s car. As I shake my head and go to enter the store I’m stopped by the elderly lady I’d helped earlier.

She says: “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. She whispers: “Don’t look yet. Wait till she leaves.” I slide the package into my scrub pocket and the nice lady walks away.

The terrible woman 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. When I reached into my pocket and pulled out what she’d given me, I was utterly astonished. It was 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 take the hardware out of the terrible woman’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.

BookwyrmsRN

48. Every Office Needs An Otis

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 dog 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 and I 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?”

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 has 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.

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.

All he did all day was lie around and drool onto his own ears. I just freshened him up every now and then, took him out every couple hours, and he was happy as a clam on a big cushy dog bed we thankfully had an extra of. 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?”

I said, “He was a champ.” And was about to say “But why is he here” when she said, “That’s 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?” It honestly took me this long to realize what had happened.

She thought we were the 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. Wrong. The next week…she came back! She said we were so much more affordable and less overcrowded than her other place, and 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. I was in heaven. He was such a love. 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.” I froze in my tracks.

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 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. I don’t know why she thought my coworker, also a stranger to her, was any more trustworthy than me, but hey. Strange times. 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.

SwarmTendon

49. That’ll Teach Him A Lesson

My niece is from Bavaria, and I am from Baden-Wurttemberg. Her summer vacation started a whole week earlier than ours, and she came for a visit with my brother and her siblings. It was in the morning and we decided to take the dog for walk and go to the bakery on the other side of the street of a big school complex. I went in, while she stayed outside with dog. When I came out, my blood ran cold.

She was gone. I decided to call her on the cellphone, and she says “Thank god you’re calling.” Some guy in the background is yelling: “How dare you take a phone call 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. I go right away to the principal’s office hoping my niece would either be there, or soon be brought in by a teacher. Outside, I can already hear him screaming at her. He’s saying: “Stop giving me a fake name and stop lying, you won´t get out of here until I have the truth! I promise you this will be mentioned in your permanent record!”

I did not bother knocking and went right in. He looked at me and yells, “Who are you? How dare you just come in here without knocking!” I say: “I am this girl’s uncle, what do you think you’re doing here? She doesn’t go to your school!” I couldn’t believe his reaction. He says, “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 authorities and have you detained by the authorities for trespassing in a school!”

I say: “I will stay right here to protect my niece from you. Calling the authorities sounds like a really good idea—after all, you’ve abducted my niece.” So I made the call and told them my niece had been abducted and that a strange man was holding her at the principal’s office of the local school. This idiot still couldn’t wrap his head around the mistake he’d made.

He yells: “Do you really expect me to believe your fake phone call ?” Then he started to shout at my niece again, who at that point was in tears. I told him: “STOP SHOUTING AT MY NIECE, you will not address her till the authorities are here, or I WILL shut you up.” Then he says he’s calling the authorities to have me detained. So he called them, only to find out that my initial call to them was real.

Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure anymore, and you could tell the cogs in his head where finally start to turn. About five minutes later the authorities finally arrived, and they asked us separately. Here is roughly what my niece told them. She was waiting outside the bakery, when this random guy came at her, screaming like a banshee.

He yelled at her that he is really fed up with people skipping school the last week before vacation starts, and will make an example out 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 officers also took her data, and confirmed she is from Bavaria. They then asked us if we wanted to press charges. I just said throw the book at him. The guy heard the authorities sayíng stuff about pressing charges and suddenly realized he was in it real deep, so he came over. He starts going: “Hey, this is just a misunderstanding, you have to understand I have to be strict with people skipping school.”

I say to him, “If by being strict you mean attacking a 12-year-old so badly she has a handprint from you on her arm that will create a huge bruise, abducting her from my care, and wrongfully imprisoning her in your office while screaming at her and scaring the beejezus out of her, then no, I DO NOT HAVE TO UNDERSTAND THAT!”

He’s saying please, it’s blown out of proportion, he could get suspended or lose his job. I wasn’t having it. I said that anybody who treats a scared 12-year-old girl like that should not 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 teacher’s side no matter how wrong they were, and had even slapped kids on several occasions.

He went to court for assault and attempted abduction plus wrongful imprisonment, plus a few more bodily harms against students. He lost his job and pension, got two years on probation and 500 hours community service with the stipulation that it could be nothing that involved kids. He was also forbidden to ever work with kids again.

hicctl

50. She’s Got The Look

I have experiences like this constantly. I think it might be due to having spent 17 years in the service industry. I just have that look. So, this time, 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 I live in (Portland, Oregon) has a reputation for diners dressing down, even in fine dining restaurants. 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 showing off 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. Well, it was downright pleasant compared to what happened next.

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.”

Then he 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 poop in years.

The chef apologized to me and a waiter who had been at the server station commiserated. I decided screw 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 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.

I told him 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 had been sitting next to me. I had been gone easily 20 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. But that wasn’t the best part.

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, “screw 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.”

My friend and I got a cheese plate and glasses of sparkling rose as a gift from the restaurant. Cheers!

pdxcranberry