Unfiltered Story #50317

UK | Unfiltered

I’m at an in-store cafe at a supermarket getting a cold drink.

Cashier: Milk?

Me: Milk?

Cashier: Yes. Do you want milk?

Me: Not particularly.

Cashier: Are you sure?

Me: Why ask you are me?

Cashier: *huffs* All I want to know is if you want milk!

Me: *sacastically* Yes. I definitely want milk…

The cashier then takes a jug from her side and pours milk into my drink. She picks it up and proffers it.

Cashier: Wait. This is cold?

Me: It’s coke.

Cashier: *staring into the cup* OH MY GOD! I thought it was coffee! Why didn’t you tell me?

Me: To be honest I was couldn’t understand why you were asking me.

Cashier: … it’s been a long day.

Unfiltered Story #50172

Arizona | Unfiltered

(This may be relevant: I am in my late 20s, but have been mistaken for a teenager, and I was in a resort town famous for its red rocks and snooty rich people). A few months ago, I found some time to run into a clothing outlet franchise I frequent, in search of a couple specific items, primarily a pair of soft tan sweatpants for a cosplay I wanted to put together. Luckily, there were plenty of things with potential. Since I was rather in a hurry, I made a few trips through the racks, grabbing anything with potential, and on to the dressing stalls, then back through the racks again. I was on my third round in the dressing stalls -which look kind of like bathroom stalls along one side of the room, with doors that open directly into the rest of the store – having just gotten the sweatpants pulled up, I picked up my phone to compare them to the movie character. I heard a faint jingling of keys and the door FLEW open! There was one of the retirement-age sales ladies , glaring at me.

Me: “I’m sorry? I thought I locked that? What -”

Associate (sharply): Are you done with those?!” *points to some items hanging on a hook*

Me: ” … Um. Yes. But I locked the door? Why are you -”

Associate: “I’m here for those. I’ll put them back. Are you done?” (Grabs for items)

Me: “What? Yes. Here. But I’m sure that door was locked. I’m changing. Why-”

At which point she turned, swung the door shut, and I heard her say to a coworker, scornfully,
“No, she was on her phone.”

I’m still really baffled by what she thought I was doing in there. Maybe because I look young? I went ahead and bought the things I had picked out, because I really did want them, and called a very apologetic store manager the next day. I didn’t make a scene, but I won’t go back.

Unfiltered Story #50171

Germany | Unfiltered

(I’m at the train station after work, waiting for my train home. I wear a jacket that SLIGHTLY resembles the uniforms of the local railway company – black with white reflector stripes, something I wasn’t really aware of until that time. This lady approaches me.)

Lady: “Hey! The train to [city], will it be on time?”

Me: “Huh? I don’t know, I’m waiting for the train to [other city].”

Lady: “So?”

Me: “What?”

Lady: “Are you going to find out?”

(Note that I’m usually a friendly, helpful person, but her tone was like she was talking to a servant or something.)

Me: “Why would I?”

Lady: “You’re supposed to help me, aren’t you?!? Go call them and ask about the train!”

Me: “Listen, why would I call about a train I don’t even want to ride on? Go ask at the info booth or call them yourself, the number’s on the info boards.”

Lady: “It’s your job to help me!”

Me: “Huh? Oh. No, I don’t work for [railway company]. I’m just on my way home.”

Lady: “Then why are you wearing their uniform?”

Me: “Wha…? I’m not wearing a uniform, this is just a jacket.”

Lady: “Is that what you call customer service? I’m going to complain about you!”

(She flounces off to an actual conductor waiting for the same train as I do. I just shake my head. A few moments later, I hear her scream.)


(She hurries past me, huffs in my direction and scurries down the stairs leading to the main building. I don’t know why I did that, but I yelled after her.)

Me: “Go ahead and try! My name is [my name].”

The conductor then came over to me.

Conductor: “What was that?”

Me: (shrugs)

Conductor: “Colleague?”

Me: “Not really… does my jacket really look that much like your uniforms?”

Conductor: “Well… it’s black.”

(The next day, same time, same platform. Unfortunately, same lady. She approaches me, fuming.)

Lady: “You!”

Me: “Not you again.”

Lady: “You lied to me! You don’t work for [railway company]!”

Me: “Huh? I told you, I don’t work for them!”

Lady: “No! You’re wearing their uniform! You said you work for them! I’m going to complain about you!”

Me: “Seriously…?”

(Good thing my train came at that moment. I still see her on the platform sometimes. She usually huffs and turns away with ostentation.)

Unfiltered Story #50169

USA | Unfiltered

I’ve been working at a well-known grocery store that originated out of Florida and is quite popular in the south for a few months. I’m a closeted transgender person, and at the time of writing this only my close friends and family know. I’ve always been nervous about my coworker’s reactions, but these interactions have pretty much determined that I won’t stay for long…

Coworker 1: (talking about something) yeah, you don’t believe that ‘transgender’ bullshit do you?

Some days later…

Coworker 2: (referencing an ex-employee who quit before I was hired): Did you hear that (ex coworker) wants to come back? She was so weird… Trying to be a boy and all that… Even had one of those weird chest flattened things. She was nice, but just so strange.

(Weeks later, on mentioning Chelsea Manning’s sentence being commuted)
Coworker 3: FUCK! He is such a piece of shit that needs to be locked up forever and rot. And did you hear about what he wants? He wanted (in the nastiest tone of voice imaginable) to have his sex change done. I don’t care about your personal “issues”, just keep it to yourself like a NORMAL person!

(Later the same day in the break room)
Coworker 4: *plays video SLAMMING the sentence commute rife with misgendering and transphobia*
Me: *trying very hard not to show any emotion whatsoever because I’m afraid I’ll cry*

The sad part is Coworker 3 was someone I was planning on trusting before I came out publicly. Guess it just goes to show how much people say when they think you aren’t listening. Hopefully by the time this is published I will have put in my two week’s notice and found a much better place to work.

Unfiltered Story #50170

NC | Unfiltered

My girlfriend and I are traveling through the mountains and get hungry. We stop at this Italian restaurant in this little town. Its a decent looking place on the inside but its the only place in town that isn’t fast food, so its fairly busy. For the record we are dressed in jeans, nothing too fancy but we aren’t dressed like slobs. Especially compared to some of the other people eating there.
After we have eaten I head up to the front of the place to pay. There is a tall slightly past middle aged lady standing at register. She is dressed up with lots of jewelry on. She is either the owner or just over-dressed to be running a register. She also has her nose extremely high in the air, it looks very exaggerated, like a cartoon stereotype of a snooty person.
She has a cash register facing out to the restaurant and then directly on her left on a side counter is a computer with an excel spreadsheet. She does not look at me at all as I approach. I hand her the check, which she takes still without looking at me, and instead of entering anything the register she opens the calculator on the computer and then enters something into excel.

She then turns to me and mutters something I don’t understand.

Me: I’m sorry?

Her [very nasally and only slightly louder than before]: $16.50.

Me: Oh okay.

I hand her my card

Her: How was the lunch service?

She is still speaking in the same nasally voice but now I realize she is coming across very stuck up and not soft spoken like I originally thought. She is finally looking at me but she is doing it with her head held very highly and looking down with her eyes pointed down at me instead of straight on. She is also making small hand gestures as she speaks. She is moving her hand in front her when she said “service”. Like she is gesturing out to the restaurant.

I got a little annoyed at her and decided to bow low and speak in tone that was best described as Renaissance Festival.

Me: It was grand m’lady!

Her [No change in demeanor or attitude]: Sign here.

Me: Of course I’ll sign me name there on this receipt slip, m’lady.

She goes back to looking away and no response as I leave.

Me: You have good day there ma’am. Do not let gravity bring your nose down to us common folk!

People behind me were laughing as I walked outside. Some of the other patrons stopped me outside and said that she has always been that way and tends to believe she is just generally better than everyone else. Why she works with the public is anyone’s guess.

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