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Confessions of a... - Printable Version

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Confessions of a... - kitakaze - 03-11-2015

So while reading this lovely thread here I had the idea that it would be amusing to share work related stories specifically. The idea is to of course share crazy stuff that we've witnessed at work, but also to maybe save someone a headache by pointing out just how the crazy can be avoided by others (in theory anyroad).

I'll start with an older story of my own! 

I don't personally think it wise to name names, of course, but I spent several years working for an amusement park that has a voluntary rodent infestation. Some days I was a pirate, some days I  was a butler. In both cases I worked both inside and outside the respective  attractions. 

This particular time I was a pirate, working the crow's nest (security monitor station) for a "joyful" night event which mercifully only occurs once per year. It would be less terrible if it  wasn't just for teenagers.

By 11pm there were only a dozen or so kids coming through the ride every ten minutes. The ride is a boat with several rows, and I saw a group of four get into the middle of a boat and begin their ride making enough noise to be heard from my post. 

Right away I get a call from my Co-pirate *snickers* telling me that they would not listen to requests to settle down, so I should keep an eye on them for safety reasons. Ok, easy enough.

I see them on the cameras being rowdy going around a bend, standing up and everything, so I click the loudspeaker and ask them to stay seated. They settle down a bit, and I shake my head. Damn kids.

A minute or so later the boat goes through a five second blind spot (which has since been eliminated) and when I see them again two are in the front row and two are in the back. Son of a...

"Once again, please remain seated at ALL times, thank you." They all seem to ignore this, again, and one of the two in the back crouches down as if to hide. Weird but harmless by comparison. I'm now watching them carefully the rest of the way, so I'm more confused when the properly seated one in the back leans over the crouching one and the two up front start making more noise again. 

I was only confused, however, until they passed under a low down camera and I got a view of dumb teen #1 with dumb teen #2's face in her crotch. At least the hem of the dress was over #2's head hiding the exact details, fortunately. 

I was only momentarily stunned, and called down to the ride exit to let them know what to expect. Jokingly I mentioned the group's bad luck that night vision cameras are a thing. In hindsight I shouldn't have made a joke with the biggest troll of a coworker I've ever had. 

A short time later the party boat gets to the exit and I see the four out of the boat and laughing as they go to walk past my coworker. He leans over to say something to them and they stop dead before #1 and 2 take off running, covering their faces, shortly followed by the other two who resumed laughing. 

Not only did he tell them what I had said, he looked over in the boat after they left so we could clear it and send it to the cleaning docks, and then used trash pickers to lift up what turned out to be half of a pair of edible panties.

Moral of the story: sex in public is almost always a bad idea. Sex in public at a major theme park is ALWAYS a bad idea. You will be seen, you will be reported, and you will be mocked. Oh, right, and if you're under age, uh, don't. We don't want to know about it. 

tl;dr: Theme park attendants see some crazy stuff.

RE: Confessions of a... - Verad - 03-13-2015

There's a rule in pizza delivery: Wait at the door. Don't go into the customer's house. This isn't an actual law so much as it is company policy in most major chains for which you can get in trouble.

In practice, the rule is violated with some frequency. There are good reasons for the rule to exist, to be sure. If a driver robs something small and valuable from a customer while inside, then it protects the company from at least some liability - they have a policy against it. It helps keep the customer safe from liability if a driver hurts him or herself in the house. And most importantly it's a guideline that can keep a driver safe from getting robbed or assaulted.

Nevertheless, there are times when you're at the front door of the house and you've got an armload of four pizzas and the old woman in front of you is a third of your size and she asks for help carrying them to her kitchen table and there's nobody else around. And in those times you're going to break the rule because the alternative is to be a jerk.

This was not one of those times. This was just me being stupid.

I used to work in a region that was part suburb, part rural, all desert. Big mix of neighborhoods, with well-off working professionals and retirement communities next to trailer parks and junkyards. This particular order - small one, large single topping and a two liter, not much more than ten dollars and change thanks to a coupon - took me out to the far end of our delivery range, where there was nothing but rural blight and broken down double-wides. That should have been warning sign the first.

This particular trailer isn't in worse shape than the others, so no red flags beyond the distance. Besides, I am an egalitarian person who tries not to stereotype based on living condition. I knocked. The man who opened the door was late-middle aged, by my reckoning, probably a hard late-fifties if I had to guess. Taller and heavier than I by a fair bit. A German shepherd padded along beside him. There was a bandage around his neck, but only the front, as if it had been recently slashed. Should have been warning sign the second.

I gave him the corporate spiel about the order, confirmed what it was, and the total. He was quiet for just long enough for the silence to be awkward before stepping away from the door and mentioning that he had the money inside, just come in and he'd get it. 

That was the third sign, and this too I ignored. I couldn't say why; idiocy on my part, or maybe it was a slow night for tips so far and I felt like if I refused, I'd get exact change and nothing else. But still, stupid. I went inside. The dog fell in step behind me, but stayed by the door, as if guarding it.

"Don't mind him," the guy said. "He just smells dinner." My throat went dry with the knowledge that this was a bad idea, but I was committed.

The place looked like a caricature of a Coen brothers' film, all wood panelling and casual grotesquerie. Porn DVDs everywhere, littering the floor and a coffee table. The man's wife, older from the look of her, wheelchair-bound, smiling thin and not paying much attention to me. Empire Strikes Back on low volume on the TV. I remember that very clearly. It was my only sane point of reference.

The customer sat down in an easy chair directly facing the hallway towards the front door and again said nothing for long enough to be awkward. I glanced over my shoulder, but the dog wasn't moving. Well-trained. Making an assumption, I placed the order on the coffee table, near his wife, and stepped back in front of him for payment. I repeated the total. Silence. Not quite a dead stare from him but not much life in it.

He starts fiddling with his wallet. "You doing this for school?"

Setting aside that I have a face that says "I am putting myself through school for a higher degree," he was right, and I said so.

"What are you studying for?" By now he had a fistful of money and I thought he was just making chitchat. I relaxed a bit and said it was for my Master's in English.

"English!" He snorted and looked at his wife like that was funny. She laughed but it was more of a wheeze. Silence again, and then he split the money into two fistfuls, one in each hand, and looked me dead in the eye.

"So what's the state capital of New York?"

I didn't know why the geography, but I knew a trick question. "Albany," I said, and he looked momentarily impressed that I didn't say NYC.

"What's the capital of New Mexico?" I lived there at the time, so of course I knew that one. "Santa Fe."

He smirked and crinkled the money in his hands. "Answers quick," he said to his wife. "You can see it, he just wants to get the money and get out." Then his attention was on me again. "What's the only state capital that's also the largest city in the state?"

This, I did not know. I said as much, and, looking over my shoulder to see that the Shepherd hadn't budged from its spot near the door, resigned myself to being a victim of the Pop-Quiz Killer.

"That's Phoenix," he said, with some pride in his voice. Then, after another moment's long silence, he offered me the money in his left hand. "You go on home now." The dog moved aside.

I took the money, trying and failing to control the shaking in my hands, and thanked him. Kept my walk controlled until I was outside the trailer and had closed the door. I bolted to my car once I was out of sight and drove fast enough on the bumpy dirt side-road leading to the place to risk my suspension, until I was back on proper asphalt and near a stop-light by the interstate. Then I breathed, and slowed down, and bothered to count the money.

I mentioned that the order was only ten dollars and change. I was holding sixty-one.

I don't have a moral to this. If you get into pizza you still shouldn't go into somebody's house. I wasn't secretly clever all along for having crept into the guy's house, and I had no closure or explanation for the circumstances.

But learn your state capitals. You never know.

RE: Confessions of a... - Mae - 03-14-2015

I worked for <insert name of large home improvement store here>, and when I wasn't out in the garden center, my preferred station in the building was the returns desk. Which for anyone who's worked retail, might see that as a sign that I might not be quite right in the head. I wish I had made these stories up. But I didn't. I promise you, they're all true.

----

During my first week doing returns solo, a man came into the building, carrying one of the largest/heaviest log-splitting mauls we stocked. He was a big guy, as in tall and broad-shouldered, and walked right up to the returns desk, put the maul on the counter, and said in a -very- thick Eastern European accent:

"I would like to return ax, it does not fit in suitcase."

----

The scene: mid-afternoon on a Saturday about two weeks after a major ice storm had gone through the area, leaving a large portion of the population without power. 

A man arrives to the store, and he is irate -- I can hear him ranting and raving, and he hasn't even entered the building yet. He finally enters, carrying a door, and he practically throws the thing at me and starts screaming about how his house had gotten broken into just before the storm, he had come in and bought a door to replace the one that had been damaged and then had to seek shelter elsewhere because of the storm, and that he had finally returned home after power had been restored to his neighbourhood to find that because we sold him a defective door all the pipes in his house had frozen and burst, and that he was going to sue the company for damages and repairs. He finally stops to catch his breath, and I ask him what's wrong with the door.

"The f---ing thing is defective! It let in a draft!"

I look at the door, then at him, and nod and enter that into the computer. And since the customer's reason for returning was defective, I have to tag the item as defective. He gets his money back, I pass him off to the manager who's been watching in disbelief the whole time, and I go about taking care of the next customer. A little while later, a co-worker who deals with the vendor returns comes up.

"... What's up with this door that just popped up in my system?"

I point at the door.

"... What's wrong with it?"

"It lets in a draft."

She stares at it, then at me.

"You're -kidding-, right? It's a screen door!"

----

Late night, about twenty minutes to closing, woman comes in and up to the desk to pay off part of her credit card bill. She hands me the most recent statement, I scan it in, and she hands me a cheque. Standard procedure, I need to verify a few things on the cheque before I try to process it... and I notice that the printed name on the cheque is 1) for a man and 2) the bottom is signed with a woman's name that doesn't share the last name on the top... and neither names match the man's name that is on the credit account. Now... normally we don't really nitpick about the name on the account matching the name used on the payment method as long as the payment method matches whoever is presenting it at the counter, but at this point I have three different names and I'm smelling something strange.

Policy is that the name on the top of the cheque must match the signed name at the bottom, and that the only time I can take a cheque as payment that doesn't belong to the person presenting it is if the name on it matches the credit account it's paying off. So, at this point, I try to politely reject the cheque. Holy crap, wrong move.

Woman goes into rant mode. About how she's trying to pay off her credit account and that the law says if I reject payment then she is no longer responsible for the balance. I attempt to politely point out that the name on the account is a man's name, and that if she shows me some ID I can gladly make sure she's on the account and from there we can discuss her using payment that I can legally accept. She tosses an ID on the counter... and now I have four different names, and her name is not on the account. I tell her that her name isn't on the account... she goes into her purse, and pulls out another ID... with a completely different name.

That's FIVE names now, folks. None match, and both the ID's have her picture on them.

So... I call my supervisor up, and very quietly (though not as discreetly as I'd like, cause the crazy woman on the other side of the counter is leaning over it so far that I'm thinking she's about to climb over it to join us) tell her of the situation. Supervisor turns to the crazy woman and informs her that both company and bank policy is that we cannot accept cheques for any sort of payment if the names do not match.

Crazy mode starts again. Now we're being treated to a rant about how rejecting the payment because of names not matching is proof that the government has gotten to us and begun to genetically mutate us into real sheep-people and that the president is a lizard-man from the center of the earth and the genetic mutations are part of a plan where the other lizard-men turn us into a food source and that they're about to move to the surface and take over.

Forty-five minutes after the store closes, we finally get the woman out of the building under threat of police intervention, account still unpaid.

----

Before working at <insert name of large home improvement store here>, I worked for a regional chain of convenience stores/gas stations. The company prided itself on having above-state-requirements when it came to ID checking and alcohol/tobacco/tobacco paraphernalia sales, including requiring employees to attend classes and be certified by the state in these matters.

So, I'm at the register, the store manager at the manager's desk which is nearby and behind some shelving so she isn't seen by customers. The manager and I do -not- get along, but she's unwilling to fire me because I willingly take some of the shifts that are normally considered to be REALLY crappy ones. Kid comes in, stops as he approaches the counter, then sighs and steps up and asks for a pack of cigarettes.

I don't even bother asking to see his ID, I tell him no and to get out.

Manager pops up from the desk, signs onto the backup register, and tells the kid to come over to her, she'll sell him the cigarettes.

Me: "... You.. can't do that. I already denied him a sale, company policy is that if a customer is denied by one employee, none of the other employees can override."

Boss: "I'm not an employee. I'm the manager."

She rings in the ciggs, and overrides the check ID prompt.

Me: "... You might want to check his ID..."

Boss: "He's old enough."

Me: "How can you tell?"

Boss: "Look, when you've been doing this as long as I have, you can accurately gauge the age of anyone who comes in."

She finishes the sale, hands the kid his receipt, and he heads out the door, pausing just long enough to mumble 'sorry' to me before he leaves. Store is empty now, and the manager is informing me that she's writing me up for insubordination and starts grabbing the paperwork. I'm not really paying much attention to her, as I watch the kid return to the rather official looking navy-blue Crown Victoria I had seen him get out. From where I'm standing, I can clearly see him handing over both the cigarettes and the receipt to the driver. Driver gets out of the car and comes into the building.

The lapel on his windbreaker identifies him as a member of the state's Tobacco and Alcohol Commission.

Official: "So! Which of you ladies wants to take responsibility for selling these cigarettes to a minor?"

Boss: *looks a bit panicked, then points at me* "She did it."

Me: "Ah, no? I denied the sale, you overrode me and didn't even bother to check his ID."

Boss: "Don't you dare try to pin this on me."

Official: *looks at the receipt, then at my nametag* "Well, according to the receipt... she's not the one who sold it. And according to the kid I sent in here, she did deny the sale and you overrode her. So, she's not in trouble."

He writes out the citation, the manager signs it, and he goes to leave and stops. He turns, looks at me, and tilts his head.

Official: "Y'know, the kid said you flat-out refused him without checking his ID. That is within your power according to the State, but why did you do it?"

Me: "Next time, you shouldn't send in my sixteen-year-old brother."

RE: Confessions of a... - Edda - 03-14-2015

Okay, this is less of an at-work story and more of a on-my-way-to-work one, but I figure it’s not every day most MMO players experience Worldstar type shit in their daily lives, so I will share this.

So I take public transportation to work. In the city of Philadelphia – where I live – that’s SEPTA. On my way to work in downtown Philly, the bus route I take passes through the neighborhood of North Philadelphia, which is… well. It’s a pretty bad area. Not the WORST, but bad enough that I wouldn’t want to live there.

So I’m on this bus, listening to music as we pass through the heart of North Philly. At one of the major stops, a few blocks away from Spring Garden, two people get on the bus. One is an older man – maybe mid-60s or so – a very short and gangly looking fellow. He has a few missing teeth and bulging eyes, and his clothes hang off of him like any authentic dumpster diver. Following him is a straight up Behemoth of a woman. I shit you not, this woman is a real life Hellsguard. She has short dyed hair and tight, hot pink clothes on and looks like she could probably break the man in front of her over her knee.

So they get on the bus, and the man (who shall now be called Aggressor), pays his fare and makes his way onto the bus. Right at the front, he passes by a younger man (mid 30s perhaps) sitting in the handicap area. So this is the layout at this point:

[Image: l7GACUt.jpg]

As Aggressor passes the younger man (Bojangles (who is twice Aggressor’s size, mind you), he leans in low to mutter something to him. And that’s when it happens. Bojangles just starts swinging. Now despite their difference in size, these two are going at it. Everyone on the bus goes wild. Bojangles gets Aggressor in a semi-chokehold before Aggressor’s wife (Merlwyb) LITERALLY picks Aggressor up off the floor and tears him away.

“SIDDOWN!” Merlwyb shouts with a voice that burns through 40 packs of cigarettes a day. Merlwyb holds her husband back as a few people on the bus try and stop Bojangles.

“I’m gonna call the police!” Shouts the driver, and I suppose the fear of arrest is enough to scare Bojangles off, and he retreats through the back door of the bus.

“Yeah run bitch! Run!” Aggressor shouts at Bojangles as he tucks tail and flees. This, of course, does nothing to diffuse the situation, and the taunt gives Bojangles new purpose. The two start pacing – one inside the bus, the other outside – the length of the bus, trying to get to each other (both doors are still open).

Merlwyb manages to eventually corner her husband into a pair of seats, “SIDDOWN,” she screams again at 30 decibels higher than ten thousand screaming babies. He attempts to stand up again, watching Bojangles from out the window, and she shoves him back down. This happens a few more times. “SIDDOWN,” she repeats.

However, just when it seemed to be over, Merlwyb turns and starts shouting something to the driver. Aggressor sees this as his chance, and gets up to resume pacing. He almost gets out of the back door before Merlwyb snatches him by the back of his shirt, and drags him back over into his seat. “Yo you better sit your ass down I ain’t PLAYIN’ with you!”

The doors to the bus close (finally). Bojangles casts one more incensed look into the bus before he stalks off. The driver takes a moment for the bus to calm down, and waits for the stoplight to turn green so she can resume her route.

BUT NO. The Fates had other plans. With a swagger in his step, Bojangles comes sauntering back. And – because it’s fucking North Philadelphia – this time he returns with a foot long piece of scrap metal that he just happened to find lying around. Bojangles approaches the front of the bus, and hurls the piece of metal as hard as he can at the bus. It’s a critical hit, and the front windshield of the bus completely shatters. Bojangles runs off, never to be seent again.

RE: Confessions of a... - Klynzahr - 03-14-2015

So I have worked for the past three years as the Health and Beauty Clerk for a small chain grocery store. This job includes lots of counting toothpaste tubes, checking the expiry on vitamins and chatting to the seniors, who frequent the store. However not all of our clientele are so pleasant. 

This store is located in a small township an hour away from Vancouver, which has recently seen an influx of drug addicts from the city. At least once a day someone on staff finds themselves following a suspicious character around the store, maybe they are a known thief, or carrying a ridiculous number of well-stuffed duffel bags, or just high out of their mind. Whatever the reason, if a person arouses our suspicions we will usually drop our work and trail them around the store for a bit. Generally they realize the game is up and make for the exit in a huff, but every now and then one gets more confrontational.

Several months ago, I spotted one of my least favorite sights; a young man, obviously on something already, coming out of my department, with his pockets bulging. I could easily identify the shape of a box of matchsticks, a thinner package that was probably sinus medication, and the round bulge of crazy glue. Mentally cursing myself for not spotting him sooner, I fell in behind the would-be shop lifter, fully expecting him to waltz out of the store scott free.

But drugs do strange things to people's logic and rather than making a break for the nearby door, this fellow decided to turn around and challenge the little girl behind him. He spun around, obviously trying to intimidate me and shouted "WHAT?!!!" in a voice that could be heard three aisles over. 

On the spur of the moment, I stuck my chin out and snapped right back at him "What's that in your pocket?"

In response he launched into a tirade about his personal rights and began threatening to sue me, while I managed to keep my cool and continued to repeat that if he had nothing to hide there was no harm in revealing the object inside his pocket.

As the fellow started getting in my face more, I could hear our wonderful express-lane cashier hastily calling our manager down to the floor. Being only 5'2'' I tend to lack in the intimidation department and I was extremely glad to overhear that backup was coming. 

Sure enough the fellow began to back peddle, the moment that my manager rounded the aisle. Switching to a defensive angle, he cried out to both of us "What do you want with me!? I was just minding my own business!"

At this point, I was both flustered and frightened I advanced on the fellow, intending to repeat my earlier request but what came out was the well known Golum line "What has it got in it's pocketsess!?"

To this day, I have know idea how it popped out at that ill timed moment. It is pure luck that my manager is literally the biggest nerd I know. He gave me one incredulous look, before bursting into laughter.  Fortunately laughter proved to be the last straw for our shop lifter, who panicked and ran, after chucking about sixty dollars worth of stolen goods at the pair of us.  

For the next week half of the store made Golum sounds, whenever I passed by and the manager will probably never let me forget it... at least we liberated the hostage items?

RE: Confessions of a... - Aaron - 03-14-2015

I was in a tattoo parlor one day changing the ink cartridges. This really really dark guy walks in and wants a picture of a black wolf on his chest.

Im like. . . . . . Lolwut? It wouldn't be visible on your skin.

I of course apparently offended the guy with that statement and he proceeded to start ranting about discrimination. And im still sitting at my chair like. . . . . . You want a black wolf on your chest? With your skin color?

Never was so bewildered before in my life.

RE: Confessions of a... - SessionZero - 03-14-2015

(03-14-2015, 02:45 AM)Klinzahr Wrote: Awesome story

You're my new favorite.

RE: Confessions of a... - ChewableMorphine - 03-14-2015

I'm not even going to dance around it but I found a cucumber in the theater after the first screening of Fifty Shades of Grey. I'll let your mind wander.

[youtube]mtBVldLtvD0[/youtube]


RE: Confessions of a... - kitakaze - 03-14-2015

(03-14-2015, 11:49 AM)☆Flynt Reddard☆ Wrote:
I'm not even going to dance around it but I found a cucumber in the theater after the first screening of Fifty Shades of Grey. I'll let your mind wander.

NOPE.jpg

RE: Confessions of a... - Ciel - 03-14-2015

Similar to Kitakaze's story, but I used to work for the front desk of a hotel.  That's a job where you see a lot of things which make you go hmm. Recalling in no particular order:

------

Every few months or so, we would get very large groups.  School groups, US First competitions, martial arts groups, hockey tournament groups, Avon 3-day walkers, trade shows, and so forth.  Hell, the production crew for Shallow Hal and many of the actors were there as well for about a week.

The Avon 3-day walkers were always a favorite of mine.  Nice people, very friendly, some have been through a lot and others were there to give support to those who had. 

So one particular morning, they're all getting ready to start out on their walk and due to the volume of people staying with us, we arranged express checkout so all they had to do was come down and leave their keys on the desk on their way out.  I was closing out some rooms in the system when one person walked up, left a key and started to move for the door.

"Thank you, sir," I said.

"MA'AM!" she said as she turned around to glare at me.  She was very handsome.


--------------------

Another morning, another large group.  A bunch of karate kids and their families left early and the same express checkout process was provided.  About 10AM, the housekeepers are very busily trying to turn rooms over because we were expecting another very large group in the evening.  Some families still hadn't left the building at this time.

Behind the front desk, we had a small black and white monitor hooked up to a security camera overlooking the pool and hot tub.  I happened to look over and see a couple getting it on in said hot tub.  Security had already left for the morning, so I got on the radio to ask one of the maintenance guys to go in, deliver towels, point out the camera so they knew they'd been caught, and to politely ask them to head up to their room since there were still kids around.

Sheepishly the couple wrapped themselves up, waited until the maintenance guy left the area, went to the far end of the pool area... and finished.  Evidently believing they were out of range.  The pool area was then locked for the rest of the day, the hot tub drained, and thoroughly cleaned.

--------------

Once upon an April Fool's day, another large group checked out.  No other bus tours or such were expected to come in that day, so the front desk manager scheduled himself to arrive at noon. 

No one liked this guy.

Arrangements were quietly made with Sales, Housekeeping, and Restaurant staff to come up with a six page list of peoples' names for a large group of elderly travelers, about 2-3 busloads.  So come 1pm, the manager finally shows up.

"Bernie!  Crap, we're SO screwed.  LOOK at this!"  Handed him the list and watched him go pale. With that many people expected to arrive within the hour and so many rooms unprepared for check-in, he started anxiously pacing through the office huffing and puffing, and going outside to smoke, panicking like it was the end of the world.

We finally let him in on the prank about 3pm when he kept looking at the clock and wondering why no one had shown up.


------------

Add to all this a water main breaking, fire, and blackout, and having to help evac all the guests and transport them for each of these three events, it was seldom a dull moment.  I actually miss that job.

RE: Confessions of a... - FloriaRaine - 03-15-2015

I'm an overnight grocery worker for a canadian grocery store chain, our stores remain closed during our shift, so we get a certain type who tends to be employed here.

This story is about the legend we still tell to our new employees, to scare and amuse them, and to teach "No matter how bad you are at this job, you'll never be this bad."

This is the legend, of Deep.

So as i was coming in for my shift one night, about a couple of months after i had started, there was another wave of new people in, at the time i had not known that standing amongst the three new people was to be a legend.

Night one, A few of my coworkers and i were gathered around and chatting, this one guy decides to come up and introduce himself, walking up behind me and letting out a high pitched "DEEEEEEEEEPPP!" which we assumed at the time was his name, though later due to his accent we couldn't figure out the right pronunciation, it was a close match between deeb and deep.

weirded out i decide to introduce myself and shake the man's hand, he grabs my hand with the wrong hand, holding it from the rather than the inside, weirded out but not going to judge, i continue with my night. I had heard nothing but complaints from a couple of my coworkers, at the time i thought nothing of it as they complain about everyone, apparently he stood looking at the top shelf with a box over his head, frozen in time, when one of said coworkers came to set the box down for him he said only "Deep strong."

After a couple hours he leaves at first break, claiming he had a stomach ache, one of my coworkers who was complaining was freaking out that this new employee who was middle eastern had planted a bomb in the store and left, which was not the case.

He had left through one of the customer doors, unlocking it and prying the sliding door open, leaving it that way when he left.

a few of them had complained to one of the day managers about him and the day manager said he would fire him, but because no one knew his name, he couldn't.

Night two, a couple of my coworkers were begging me to train deep, and because i had not experienced him before, i was like "How bad could he be?" Within 5 minutes the guy had broken 3 boxes of salsa. he picked them up in the asian food aisle and started wondering around searching for them, i kept telling him those weren't in the aisle, ten times before he even looked at me. he then placed them back onto the skid, sitting half on the edge. i needed to push the skid out of the aisle, with pillars, because people came in behind so i couldn't pull out, i told him to step out of the way and keep an eye so i don't hit anything, he runs away somewhere and as soon as i moved the skid 3 boxes containing salsa fell over and completely busted.

Fast forward into the night, we're in the taco section of the chip aisle, i'm pointing to the item on the skid i want him to find, and where it is on the shelf "This is the chip aisle, we're looking for cookies, chips, /salsa/, and taco shells." i point to an obvious box of tacos on the skid and where they are on the shelf, he begins walking around the skid, looking intently, as i continued pointing back and forth for those three minutes. He walks like a drunk confused chicken, constantly pecking his head forward and wobbling around (this will be important for later). eventually he picks up a box of pasta sauce "No, that's pasta sauce, that's in the pasta aisle, look for SALSA". he says in return "Pasta salsa?" "No, that's pasta SAUCE" "pasta salsa?"

eventually i had given up hope. fast forwarding into the night, one my lazier coworkers was whining about me not dropping everything i was doing, a nearly full skid of product to spread and training a legend, to ask the boss a question when he had finished his skid. so i decide i'm going to go off on some speech, mostly sarcastic "The world is a terrible and cruel place, you gotta fight for yourself, gotta fight and suffer, can't expect me to hold your hand for you" this obviously confused him and threw him off his guard, but then deep came in "the british" "Huh?" "The british" "what about them?" the british, he kept responding to our questions with the british, so i decide i don't have time for this and take the one item for the aisle we're infront because i can't trust him to do so. I come back "the british" "what about them?" he kept nodding and saying the british, eventually he says "the British war with Argentina" "what about it" then something about a plane bombing, freaked out i walk away from the situation.

fast ward, I come back from the local Tim Horton's with my midnight lunch, and he's talking to the salad girl "What race you?" "Armenian" "Genocide against them, very bad" "...yes"

Fast forward, the coworker who begged me to train him was stuck with him in the drink aisle, next to the chip aisle where i was. The boss was yelling at deep because he couldn't put things on the shelf, and the boss we had at the time was normally very chill. Both of them keep telling him to work. Now, i'm in my aisle and i have like 15 items dropped, which isn't even a one person job, deep walks over "I help you now." "Aren't you with matt?" "Yes, i help you now." "Did matt send you over?" "I help you now." "Go back and help matt." five minutes later both of them are in the aisle, matt is asking about some product or something, i ask him if he sent deep over "Hell no." five minutes after that, matt started sending him around the store like a hot potato, people refusing him or sending him back after 5 minutes. The boss tells him not to come back tomorrow or any other day, or he will be sent back home. So during the second break he leaves without telling anyone.

NIGHT THREE. He's being denied at the door by security, not because he was fired, our store was under going construction at this time, and it was a week night so construction was in, everyone needed their hard hats and steel toes. eventually he comes in because someone gives him a hard hat, he comes right to me. "I need holiday for tonight." "You know you were fired right?" doesn't understand why "Why did you leave last night?" "I was sad" one of my other coworkers chimes in "You left without telling anyone, because you were sad?" we're all just done with this guy "You can't be doing that" so we send him over to the guy in charge since the boss wasn't in, he gets sent home, on his way out he see's the overnight temperature check guy (since bakery was under construction he got promoted to temperature checking, same pay for almost no work, lucky bastard) and glares him down for 20 seconds before wandering off into the night.

We were expecting a night four to happen, but it never did ....


DAY FOUR! So a few months later, during the autumn, i was walking home one morning, not from work, it was a day off and i had decided to go to the local ebgames and get a 'breakfast' gyro. On my way back, about 20 minutes from my home, i see this guy stumbling around down the street, a familiar, signature walking style like a drunken confused chicken ... "Oh dear god ... that's not ..." it was. He see's me on the street, and glares me down for 30 minutes, stumbling around in spot, pecking his head forward like a chicken, at this point i'm freaking out, i have no idea what he's going to do and since i'm not coming from work, i don't have my box cutter on me to defend myself if things go south. after 30 seconds of him glaring, he steps back, and taps on his chest, kinda like what a rapper would do after dropping the mic and going "represent!" but rather than saying that "I am deep." then he walks off, looking over his shoulder at me, i pick up my pace and start rushing him, looking over my shoulder to make sure he's not following me.

And that's the end, the legend of deep, only to be continued by the legend of deep jr (Not his son or a racial thing like some coworkers have thought when we start naming him deep jr, but this guy was half as bad (yet took around much longer causing more damage) as deep and warrented a second age of deep.))

RE: Confessions of a... - U'roh Tia - 03-15-2015

Okay so this is a culmination of my off the wall experiences in the three short months since I started my job at Madison Wisconsin's local Downtown McDonalds.

This one is kinda meh compared to some of the others but I personally find this hilarious. So here we go!

On my first Saturday I was asked to give a hand during a Local Badgers game, and we were packed. I'm talking we had a line a block long at one point due to us being the only McDonalds in 3 miles to the stadium and right next to it. So I'm taking orders, thinking to my self a multitude of thoughts of what the heck I got my self into, trying to break back into the work force. As I am taking orders all of a sudden I see this college aged girl, just push her way through people and start shouting. "The ladies toilet is plugged! Fix it!" "So I'm like Rude customer whatever." And greet the next one and going crazy on my line of customers. My Manger responds with "Okay we'll get to it when we can." "What does that mean?!" "That means we'll get to it when we can, we're unfortunately busy right now."

He proceeds to wave to the lobby full of customers and the triple if them outside likely wanting a Quick McDouble. So she leaves and we're still going, this line is like a endless sea of customers, like I'm talking I swear I died and was condemned to the ring of Sloth level crazy. Well three more times no more then 3 minutes apart she bothers our manager. It got to the point where he said if she asked one more time he'll have her removed from the store. So after she disrespects that wish she bugs us again and one young man simply said. "No, shut up. If you have to go pee THAT bad. Use a bottle, these men and women are sitting here braving probably the longest line I have ever seen at a McDonalds. You're just making it worse." Probably the only time I'll ever see a round of applause at a McDonalds.

So his one actually involves me, my manager,  a man who I have no idea what happened.

So I had arrived a half hour early to work, wanting to grab a bite to eat before my shift and noticed my big bad store manager and a rather scruffy man arguing. I assume another dispute and just let it go, confident he'll handle it I go take my order. So I come back in a half hour later and the man returns. My manager tells him to give him a coffee refill and to deny him further service as he is suppose to leave. The man gets noticeably upset, and looks to me, then to my manager and then to me. Then clocks me right in the face, he hit like a wet noodle, but dang he just unprovoked punched me. Then turned to my manager and threw the scolding coffee at him and then hopped over the counter. Now we're scrambling people calling the cops. However, this man suddenly is met with one of our trays full force in his face. One of the cleaning crew had grabbed a tray and sent him careening right back over the counter. Just in time for a our usual officer to come in to witness this event. I look up to find the person who had just knocked this man over the counter with a plastic tray is our shortest member. A Four foot tall elder lady, her only words were. "Stupid people." With a shake of her head and she went back to work.