Have a lousy job? Friends, family, and coworkers alike tired of listening to you complain? Well, send your stories here and lift some of the burden off of your already crushed soul. No drug test required.
I work at an electrical supply house. One day my phone extension rings with a co-workers name on the caller I.D. Thought i would be a little funny so i pick up the phone and answer "City Morgue, you kill 'em we chill 'em." It was a customer on the phone my co-worker had transfered to me.
I work as the mascot for the local semi-pro baseball team in my small town (I'm a big chicken). It was "Kids Night" at the ball park and a group of about 20 youngsters decided to get the chicken's autograph. I happily obliged and proceeded to sign their programs, hats, and baseballs. Then one kid asked "Could you sign my underwear, Mr. Chicken?" I immediately got up and turned to leave, but the other children decided they wanted their undergarments signed as well. The group followed me around for the next 2 innings chanting "Sign our underwear!" I got a lot of weird looks from parents.
I work on the New Jersey Turnpike in a rest stop and we tend to get our fair share of "interesting" customers. We recently had this man come through that literally scared the hell out of every part of the plaza. First he came into the gift shop, where I work, to buy a soda and the whole time he was staring at me while my co-worker rung him up. After we both told him to have a great night, he became very passive aggressive, saying "You too, have a good one. It was good seeing you. Seriously. Have a good one." in the most pissed off voice ever while slowly walking out of the gift shop. He even walked out and walked back in to tell us to have a great night and giving us a thumbs up. My co-worker and I seriously thought he was going to attack us. He then went to the Burger King in the plaza, asked if they did cash back, and when they said no, he stood by the closest wall and started to smack his head into it. For three minutes straight. We almost called the state troopers.
When I was fifteen I volunteered at a dance camp for little kids run by the studio where I hoped to become an instructor the next year. The camps lasted a week and on the last day we have a recital for the kid's parents. I was walking a group of younger dancers to the dressing rooms when a mom cornered me and asked what time the recital was but I didn't know, which I told her and asked her to wait a minute, I would get one of the other instructors. She started yelling at me and saying that she would not wait a minute and that I was wasting her time and her child's time. The studio head came out of her office and saw me being chewed out and tried to calm down the pyscho mom who then stormed into the dressing room, grabbed her daughter and told us that her kid was going to be a star one day and we would be sorry. So far, I'm not.
When I was a teenager I worked at a convenience store, and there was a KFC right across the street. One night a down-and-out sort of looking man walked into the store with a KFC bag and went right to the ice-cream cooler. After a few minutes I noticed that he had been eating his chicken on the cooler and throwing the bones on the floor. I asked him why the hell he was doing that and that he had to leave. He told me I was discriminating against him for not letting him eat his chicken in the store. All I wanted to know is why he didn't eat his friggin' chicken across the street at the restaurant!
I was standing at our customer service area when a guest walked out of the restroom to grab my attention"Sir, sir, I just want to let you know that it is wet next to the wet floor sign"
and the guy behind him
"Yea, it is wet next to the wet floor sign, he almost slipped"
Response"Yea, I will get right on that, maybe I will put a sign there to warn you"
I used to be a cashier at a thrift store. One day my manager comes poking around the cash register to see if there were any zip-loc baggies laying around. I didn't really think much of it until a few minutes later a very large woman comes through my line and chucks a zip-loc bag that contains triple XL wet, soiled underwear onto the register and says "I'm not stealing these. They're mine, and I was wearing them until I done messed myself."