Category: Criminal/Illegal

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What’s The Twenty?

| Frisco, TX, USA | Bosses & Owners, Criminal/Illegal, Employees, Money

(I am out at a wings place with the family, and the total comes out around $80.)

Waitress: “Here’s your check, sir.”

(I pay with a $50 card, a $25 card, and a 20 dollar bill and the waitress runs it through and then shows us the receipt.)

Waitress: “All right, we ran your cards. Now we just need $6.11 for the rest of the meal.”

Me: “Uh, no. I gave you a $20 bill, remember? I explained everything…”

Waitress: “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me go see if I dropped it.”

(I wait around three minutes and the manager walks up.)

Manager: “Hi, my name’s [Manager] and I’m the manager here. I hear that you paid $20 bucks but the waitress is saying differently. I’ll try to go in the middle here and pay for the rest of your meal but I’m sorry about your other $15.”

Me: “No, that’s not happening. I gave it to that girl and explained how I was paying and everything. I’m not losing $15.”

(The waitress comes running.)

Waitress: “Oh! Here! I found it the trash…”

(Waitress walks off to get the new receipt.)

Manager: “Oh, uh… I’m so sorry about that.”

Me: “No… I don’t think you are, because you were just going to side with her and sit here and call me a liar. You can’t tell me that you believe her story. Unbelievable. You need to talk to her about stealing my money.”

Manager: “Yes, sir. We will definitely talk to her about it.”

(Manager walks off and Waitress comes back with receipt.)

Waitress: “Here’s your receipt. Sir, you don’t have to be so rude.”

(The waitress walks off immediately and starts fake cleaning tables.)

Me: “Are you kidding me?”

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His Heart Is All Plastic

| Quebec, QC, Canada | At The Checkout, Criminal/Illegal, Employees

(I am heading to a motorcycle driver’s ed class and I am parched. I enter a local convenience store I’ve never been to before that is two doors down from the driving class, in an exterior mall. I know I have no money on me, only plastic, but I do notice the credit cards stamps/stickers on the window shop and also notice the PIN pad on the counter when I get in. I grab a medium water bottle in the fridge at the back, open in up and take a big gulp, and head to the counter to pay for it. The clerk, who in hindsight I assume is the owner, scans it and declares my total.)

Me: “With Visa, please.”

Clerk: “You can’t. Cash or debit please.”

Me: “What? But you have credit card stickers on your window pane.”

Clerk: “Yes, but you’re not buying more than 10$.”

Me: “I didn’t see the warning. Where is it advertised?” *looking around for a sign*

Clerk: “I don’t have one.”

Me: “Then how was I supposed to know? Besides, I don’t have anything else.”

Clerk: “Tough luck. Go put your bottle back.”

Me: “But I already drank from it.”

Clerk: “Not my problem. You either buy more stuff or you pay cash. I won’t make any money on that bottle of water if you pay with a credit card.”

Me: “Wrong! It is clearly your problem. You are advertising credits cards on your window pane. I would have understood if your PIN pad was not working, but that’s not the case since the previous customer just paid with it. Just ring me up.”

(At this point there is a lot of back and forth about the fact I just want to pay for a bottle and him not having any of it. A small line is forming up.)

Clerk: “If you don’t pay I will call the police and—”

Me: “I AM PAYING! You’re refusing it the method you’re advertising you accept, and I don’t have any other way of paying you.”

Clerk: “You leave me no choice…”

Me: “Perfect, then. Call them. For your information I will attend a driver’s ed at [School] two doors down. Send the cops there; my name is [My Name].”

(The clerk/owner has a smug face of superiority as he sidestepped toward the back office to make the call. I take the opportunity to pull up my phone and take pictures of the counter to be a step ahead. I have gauged he is not an entirely stupid guy.)

Guy Behind Me: “What are you doing?”

Me: “The whole exchange feels like he was trying to extort me. I’m not taking any chances.”

Guy Behind Me: “So?”

Me: “I have a feeling he will print a d*** sign when I’m gone.”

(I left and the cops did show up during class. As we go back into the store and brand new 8.5×11 printed piece of paper stating the under 10$ appeared. I know vengeance is petty, but at that exact moment, it was the best feeling ever when the smug face disappeared as I showed the pictures to the cops. I promptly paid with my credit card in front of the cops and they stayed with the owner to have a chat with him. I have no clue if what he was doing was legal or not, but the cops clearly took my side with the disingenuousness of the clerk/owner.)

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H2-No!

| CA, USA | Bad Behavior, Criminal/Illegal, Employees

(My mother lives alone so her house is normally pretty quiet. One day she hears water running through her pipes and figures the automatic sprinkler system in front has come on at the wrong time. Instead she finds a hose connected to her front spigot, feeding a power washer, which an employee of a maintenance service is using to wash down the neighbor’s house!)

Mom: “What are you doing!? You’re using MY spigot; water that I’M paying for!”

Employee: “Well, it was the closest spigot…”

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A Disservice To Service Dogs

| Niagara, ON, Canada | Criminal/Illegal, Employees, Liars/Scammers, Pets & Animals

(I have a service dog, for psychiatric reasons. I’m not blind, though most people seem to think eye-seeing dogs are the only service dogs out there. Thus, my life gets harder sometimes… Like while on vacation…)

Me: *with my dog by my side* “Hi, checking in for [Last Name]…”

Motel Guy: “NO DOGS! NO PETS ALLOWED!”

Me: “Well, she’s not a pet…”

Motel Guy: “NO PETS!” *yells something in a language I don’t understand to a woman in a back room*

Motel Lady: “Hi, yes, no pets here!”

Me: “She’s a service dog… We prepaid…”

(I starting to have a panic attack come on, but I try to keep it together.)

Motel Guy: “I’ll call the booking company…”

(I text my husband who is outside in the car with the baby, and ask if he can switch spots with me. Unfortunately the baby is crying and so he took him for a ride around the block.)

Motel Guy: “They say I need to let you stay. So the fee, for staying… plus a $300 deposit…”

Me: “What? We pre-paid, online…”

(At this point my husband pulls back up to the office.)

Me: “I’ll let my husband talk to you…”

(The next part, I am not present for; I run back to the car with my dog in tow, wishing I could hide under a table.)

Husband: “Would you refuse a wheelchair to someone that needed one? Because she NEEDS her dog. You can’t charge a FEE to someone who needs a fridge to store their medication, can you?”

Motel Guy: “I will make it only a $50 deposit…”

Husband: “No. I’ll be calling the booking site to cancel this, and if you manage to weasel a CENT out of us, we’ll sue.”

(Not only did the booking site refund us, but they gave us a credit, AND found us a nicer hotel for the same cost we had put up for that place, on a busy weekend. Sometimes, the good guys DO win!)

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Doug Himself A Hole

| Endicott, NY, USA | Bad Behavior, Criminal/Illegal

(It’s Halloween, 2013. I am with my parents, handing candy out to trick-or-treaters. At about 6 pm, the phone rings. We don’t recognize the number, but assume it is a telemarketer, so I just pick up and immediately hang up, so we wouldn’t have to deal with the ringing. Less than a minute later, the phone rings. Same number. I repeat the process of picking-and-hanging up the phone. Almost immediately, the same number calls back. Somewhat annoyed, I answer finally.)

Me: “Hello.”

Telemarketer: *speaking with a very thick, almost cliché Indian accent* “Hi! My name is Doug! I’d like to talk to you about upgrading your home security system! We have plenty of offers…”

Me: *interrupting, but staying polite* “…Oh, thank you very much. But we don’t have a home security system and aren’t interested. You have a nice day, Doug. Take care.”

Telemarketer: “Oh… ok. Thank you and good-bye.”

(I hang up the phone and sit down. Five minutes later, the same number calls back.)

Me: *answering the phone* “Uh… hi.”

Telemarketer: “Hi, my name is Doug! I’d like to talk…”

Me: *interrupting* “Hi. You just called us. Sorry, we’re not interested. Have a nice night, though.”

Telemarketer: “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to call back. Thank you and good-night!”

(Less than 10 seconds after I hang up, the phone rings again.)

Me: “Please stop calling this number. This is the third time I said we’re not interested.”

Telemarketer: “Hi, my name is Doug! I’d like to…”

Me: “Ok, first of all… Your name isn’t ‘Doug.’ You’re clearly speaking with the thickest Indian accent I’ve ever heard. Second. Stop calling!”

(I hang up. This time there was a pause of five minutes before good-ole “Doug” calls back.)

Me: *answering* “Listen, ‘Doug’… Stop calling us! If this keeps up, we will contact the police and report this number for harassment.”

Telemarketer: “Oh.”

(I hang up and he calls right back. This time I hand it off to my mother, who is furious about the fact that he has already called numerous times.)

Mom: “Stop calling us! We don’t want what you’re offering!”

Telemarketer: “May I speak to the man of the house?”

Mom: “No, you may not. I own this house with my husband. He doesn’t want to talk to you, so you’re going to talk to me. And I’m telling you to stop.”

(She hangs up on him and he calls back yet again a few minutes later. This time we hand the phone to my step-father.)

Step-Father: “We’re calling the police.”

Telemarketer: “What?”

Step-Father: “You’ve spent the past 15 minutes harassing us over the phone. We’re calling the police.”

(They argue back and forth for several minutes. My step-father hangs up and informs us that “Doug” evidently doesn’t understand why we are calling the police, and in fact, seems to barely understand who the police even are. Needless to say, he calls back again. This time we let it ring through, hoping he’ll leave a message and then stop calling. He doesn’t leave a message. He just calls right back again about four more times before we pick up the phone again. My mom answers this time.)

Mom: “Ok, ‘Doug’… you pushed my ‘a**hole button’ too many times.”

(She proceeds to threaten him with the police again, before launching into a barrage of insults, evidently because he ignored the threat of police and tried to sell her a home security system again. We hang up. We try to call the local police department about a minute later, but “Doug” interrupts us. He has just called as we pick up the phone to start dialing; he is already on the line. We just hang up and immediately call the police before he can call again.)

Step-Father: *a few minutes later, while on phone with the police* “Oh, my god! The phone just beeped! He’s trying to call us again!”

(An officer that was nearby showed up about five minutes later. While we were waiting for the officer, “Doug” tried to call our house again three more times. The officer took the number, and had to leave to take care of something else. “Doug” tried to call us one more time, before the calls suddenly stopped. He returned a short while later just to check in, and informed us that “Doug” was not going to be calling back. Evidently, the police had contacted the number in the meantime, and reported “Doug” to a number of superiors.)