Halloween Costume Confusion
Gas Station Signage Exposes Little Debbie Cakes Thief

Grocery Store Hell: When Customers Make You Think You're Working in a Reality TV Show



Hey all, Kiddo here after a long absence! 

So, RHU, man, all the stories I've got for y'all from these past months. Just....so fucking many.

So first a few little ones:
- A full fucking grown woman who did NOT understand to the point of obviously chosen ignorance about how we CAN NOT just 'put a little dab of peanut butter' in our store-baked chocolate chip cookies for a 'fun and tasty surprise' for our customers. Like, legit, the way she was talking about it, it was like an inverse jam cookie or Hershey chip cookie. Literally hide a small portion of peanut butter in the center of the chocolate chip cookie and then sell it as a plain chocolate chip, no advertising whatsoever about the hidden potential death trap inside. 
When we brought up the issue of allergies, she honestly was so befuddled and confused and legit replied, "Well, then just don't sell them any; they should really know better, right?"
I felt brain cells die in that moment. Our store manager didn't even bother trying to go on about the various legal issues this obviously opens up and just kinda shooed her out the store. She went, still so very obviously confused on why we couldn't follow through on her idea, because it'd obviously just be so 'fun and exciting and tasty!'. 
- A full grown man who could NOT understand the concept of shopping. I'm being serious here; it's one thing to ask where one or two items are but he kept coming back to the front end and asking for every item on his list. One of my cashiers had a small break in her line and made the mistake of asking to see his list so she could tell him where the items where, maybe even note it down so he wouldn't have to keep coming up to ask us for Every Single Item, including ones that should have been right next to the item he'd just asked about. 
OCTOCAROL 110RHU, he honestly tried to legit drag her away from her register.
I mean, he was reaching for her arm, clearly to grab her and pull her with him, talking about how our store is 'so damn confusing' and 'why can't we be simple like Walmart' and how 'she *NEEDS* to help him here, he's the paying customer' and then here's Kiddo, scissors in hand (I was doing hand cutouts on the closed register behind her, for a local school thing we support) and about to lose her job when thankfully my assistant manager swoops in and gets between them, charming the guy away and taking him away to finish his shopping. I send the cashier on her break, get on an open register and fucking turbo the line to kill my rising rage. It's one thing to need help and it wouldn't be the first time we've basically had to hold someone's hand while they're shopping, but to physically *force* someone to help you?
For comparison, there's actually this one elderly woman we all fall over ourselves to help. She's incredibly kind, very funny, a good-type gossiper, asks politely if anyone can help her shop [she has visible shakes in her hands and arms and visibly has trouble lifting anything over about 5 pounds] and always has candy on her to give us as a 'thank you' for the help; she originally tried to give us quarters but changed to candy when we told her we can't accept cash tips. Being polite and decent gets you luxury treatment.
- A grown woman snarking on some college girls. I mean, I half-thought we were on some kind of weird candid-camera thing because it legit felt like a 'And they all clapped and cheered' moment.
See, these college girls came in and one of them's on one of our electric scooters; we've been having issues with people joy-riding in them so I go over to talk to them but I change my mind at seeing the girl in the chair. RHU, her legs were fucking purple. I thought she was wearing leggings at first, until I saw the bandages on one leg and another girl in the group kept apologizing for....I think it was 'cleating' her?, anyway, she's apologizing for it and offering to buy the chair girl's snacks and the chair girl's laughing her off and says something about how 'that's how it is for a goalie!' or something like that. That's when I finally see that they're wearing jerseys for a local college soccer team and you know what, whatever. The girl's legs are beaten to shit and it's late at night and we've got like no one else in store; so long as they remember to plug the chair back in when they go, I couldn't care less. 
However, an entitled woman clearly has far more to say. I notice her briefly when the girls come out of the chip aisle and the lady's right behind them, pushing her cart like it's a club and her nose in the air like she's ready for a verbal battle. Common enough, so I don't pay attention. 

Then I hear it: the nitpicking.
The loud, snide, 'holier than thou' complaining about how 'some *people* quite need those chairs' and 'how young folk today just don't know respect' and so on and so forth until finally the chair girl stops, very very stiffly gets out of the electric chair and looks at the lady expectantly. Said supposed 'lady' goes immediately quiet and pale, clearly not expecting a confrontation and now also can see the girl's beaten up legs and how she had trouble getting out of the chair. The girl keeps looking at her expectantly, woman says nothing, girl finally breaks the silence with, "Is that all?". The woman just snips something about respect and hauls off down a different aisle; the girl gets back in her chair, sees me, smiles and just says, "Third time this year; people are fucking jerks" then motors off with the other girls down the paper aisle. 
RHSEPT 547And on that aspect uh,
I honestly never thought I'd complain about this personally as a white woman in the American South but....
There's been such a weird level of cultural appropriation going around. Like, I don't know if it's because of the rise of shows like Southern Comfort and that Housewives of America (or something like) drama and all those Lifetime movies or whatever and the love of characters like Daryl Dixon, but we've been getting a lot of people from the North coming down and just....trying to act like they're Southern Gents and Belles and Dames and it's just.....eh?
Like.....I had one old woman snip at me about how I called the bathrooms, well, 'bathrooms'; clearly, I should have said 'washrooms' or 'powder-rooms', like she did asking for them. I know legit Southern Dames that call bathrooms outright the shitter and/or the crapper no matter the company plus...it's a fucking bathroom. I'm just going to call it a bathroom. 
Then they talk up their little house parties and shower them with terms like 'hosting' and 'sweet tea and biscuits and little sausages on toothpicks' and 'enjoying the sunset over the marsh' and so on and so forth and then keep glancing at me or my other female coworkers like they're waiting for a nod of approval and it's just....don't go there. Don't assume you know the tangled web of being a Southern Hostess so easily. It's heavily routed in the local city society, local neighborhood society, your personal family history, your own personal history including your job history and your current employment status (be it clerk or housewife or whatever, with *distinctions* between part-time and full-time; Kid(s) involved are whole other fifteen levels of stress), and Gods fucking help you if you don't invite that one aunt or cousin or uncle or whoever and then there's all the little victory and defeat ticks you have to keep track of in regards to other Hostesses, both family and non and otherwise, and it just, it never fucking ends. I was fucking raised in it and all I got to show for it was a clear cut case of previously near-crippling social anxiety and an ever-growing hatred of the human race in general.
And here's the other part people don't get: you Know your history. 
You Know it and you accept the weight of it, shame and pride alike. It's why some people I know get so defensive of the Confederate Flag; to them it's not a symbol of Pride but a symbol of Shame. It's a symbol of a dark part of our history that we shouldn't forget nor glorify and it's also unfortunately a large part of our state's history, so we can't just bury it in the back of the closet and pretend it never happened, just as certain details shouldn't be glossed over and sugar-coated when taught in history class.
Moving on before this becomes a full-blown Rant, it's just...weird to me. These tourists come from the North with this creepily glorified and sugar-coated idea of what it is to be a Southern Gent or Belle or Dame and sigh and titter over the 'romantic' aspect of it and it's just....ugh. 
Signing out for now, later guys!






"Like.....I had one old woman snip at me about how I called the bathrooms, well, 'bathrooms'; clearly, I should have said 'washrooms' or 'powder-rooms', like she did asking for them."

Technically, there is no actual name for them. When they were invented people were so offended by the very IDEA that they were only entirely referred to by euphemisms. As in 'you don't store water in a water closet', you can't take a bath in a room with a toilet and sink, you don't rest in a restroom, etc.

Even the toilet is a euphemism, there's no real word for it. This is also, incidentally, why the 'bread and things you cram up a turkey's ass' is referred to as 'dressing' sometimes, because the victorians found 'stuffing' vulgar.

As to the southern thing... I couldn't care less. My family moved to the US sometime around WWI, and my parents were the first ones to move out of Michigan in any case, so it's got nothing to do with me in any direction.It isn't MY history, it's the history of where I happen to live at the moment,

The tourists tend to forget that all that 'southern gent/lady' nonsense came about because of the free time provided by having other people work for you for free.

Kai Lowell

I prefer "loo" myself, but I blame this on hanging about too many Brits and Aussies in my life.

People are idiots, that's really all there is to it. As Misty's so fond of saying, stupid is as stupid does!


Wow! What a great posting and responses!

First (as I step up on my pedantic soap box) "water closet" actually means "water valve", and has nothing to do with a "clothes closet" (A "closet" is something that closes.) So WC is nothing more than an English euphemism for the john or the crapper (both of which allegedly comes from "John Crap", apparently a manufacturer whose name was on the plumbing). (Stepping down again.)

Anyway the rant about the CSA battle flag was very good. Unfortunately many folks rally around that flag seem NOT to remember it was a lost cause. (Why do folks glorify war?) But I firmly agree we should NOT suppress our history, so long as we don't glorify the wrong aspects of it. The current brouhaha about statues and name (of CSA leaders in particular, but even C Columbus in NYC for another example) comes to mind. I fully understand the one side that wants to tear down statues of RE Lee in the center of town. Who wants to daily confront a monument to a traitor to the USA who defended the cause of slavery of one's people? My take is to move the statue onto private ground - not to destroy it. RE Lee won't go away. We should all learn from his mistakes. But glorifying him on public space is quite a reasonable thing to object to.

Now, as to imitating manners, words, customs. There's another way to look at this. When an American learns French (for example) he often refuses to shed his American accent -- thinking it's silly to pronounce words the way the French do. So his utterances are unintelligible to all. I take the reverse stance. Pronunciation is the MOST important; vocabulary only secondary. (There ARE dictionaries and guide books to read from.) So LEARN pronunciation by imitating a French accent do -- speak English like Pepe le Pew! This can actually teach you to pronounce words like the French do. (Then you need only learn how to READ French orthography, which is very systematic but quite different than English.)

The point of this rant is that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. If a Northerner tries to come across as Southern, accept that as flattery. But note that it doesn't give them any status whatsoever. Rather it's like a baby's first words. Correct them! Teach them! (Humiliating them publicly if they can't accept the correction!)


(tips over the soap box) Nuh-uh.

""John," along with an older term, "cousin John," is probably related to "the jakes," which goes back to 16th-century England and apparently is a shortened form of "Jake's house." "Jake" was a generic term for a yokel, but that's about all I can offer in the way of etymological wisdom. Basically, "john" is just another euphemism for an appliance that, as I have pointed out before, is one of the few things for which there is no simple descriptive term in the English language, i.e., one that resorts neither to euphemism nor vulgarity."

"Why do I get the feeling you people aren't paying attention? The legendary inventor of the flush toilet was Thomas Crapper, not John. See my earlier column on this subject."

Earlier column: http://www.straightdope.com/columns/read/573/why-do-we-call-it-the-bathroom-even-when-it-has-no-tub

Now for the startling developments. You may be aware that certain persons of indifferent breeding refer to the john as the "crapper." You may also be aware that in 1969 British writer Wallace Reyburn published a book entitled Flushed With Pride: The Story of Thomas Crapper, which purported to tell the story of the inventor of the flush toilet. Reyburn followed this up in 1971 with another volume entitled "Bust-Up: The Uplifting Tale of Otto Titzling and the Development of the Bra." The latter effort was obviously a spoof, and it has been widely assumed that the story of Thomas Crapper was a joke as well.

In recent years, however, Ken Grabowski, ace researcher at the Field Museum of Natural History in Chicago, has gone to great lengths to prove that Crapper actually existed. Grabowski has made several trips to England and collected hundreds of documents, including baptismal and death records, photos, magazine writeups about Crapper's plumbing company, advertisements, and so on. Having inspected the evidence, Cecil must say Grabowski makes a compelling case. Thomas Crapper (1837-1910), an English sanitary engineer, apparently founded a plumbing fixture company in London in 1861, and his products became well known throughout the British Isles. While Crapper did not actually invent the flush toilet, he did come up with certain improvements. Moreover, his equipment, with his name prominently displayed, was installed at military barracks used by U.S. troops during World War I. Does this mean that Mr. Crapper's name is the origin of the word "crap"? Not exactly. There was crap before there was Crapper (you should pardon the language), but big-C Crapper quite possibly gave rise to little-C crapper, meaning "toilet." That's the Straight Dope, friends. Accept no substitutes.


From Middle English closet, from Old French closet, from clos (“private area”) +‎ -et (“forming diminutives”), from Latin clausum. Equivalent to close +‎ -et, but generally applied in French solely to small open-air enclosures.[1]


Have you never seen Robin Hood: Men in Tights? Everyone knows that the term "John" came about when King Richard returned from the crusades and found out what Prince John was up to in his absence. By his royal decree, all toilets were henceforth referred to as Johns XD

Kai Lowell

o/` We're men, we're men in tights (TIGHT tights!) o/`

I do so love the Straight Dope, too.

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