Hello and welcome back to Reddit Insanity number 30.
I'm Michael.
Number 30.
I'm Noe.
All right.
Yeah, we're at number 30.
And we've got some more today.
I fucked up.
Retail.
They haven't been updating their stuff.
So we don't have any.
Yeah, something horrific has happened.
It's been real scary, actually.
It's been kind of quiet.
Yeah.
It's kind of freaking me out.
Like I'm worried about the holiday season.
You know what I mean?
You guys don't understand retail storms, unless you're in the field.
But when there's not a lot of people buying at the store for some reason.
It's creepy.
It's like, oh, oh.
What's going to happen?
It's about to get real serious here.
That hammer's getting ready to drop.
Once fucking Black Friday hits, after that it's a fucking avalanche.
Like, yeah, like if it's quiet, like even at the flea market, if it's quiet.
It kind of worries you.
It's not a recession because I can tell.
You can tell a recession was when it's consistently quiet.
Yeah.
But this is like, I'm saving up money for the holiday quiet.
Yeah.
That's really scaring me.
All right.
Well, first one we have is by Gay Little Sorry.
What?
Gay Little Sorry.
S O I R E E.
Oh, OK.
This person puts, we have family visiting.
So yesterday I took my son and his cousins to the zoo.
My son said toy rubber snake there and really wanted it.
So I got it for him.
I meant to warn my husband, but forgot after a very long, very long day wrangling Rugrats.
Wrangling Rugrats.
Thanks a lot for that.
It was on his bedroom floor this morning when my husband went to get him up and ready for
the day.
My husband, who is from Jordan originally, and had multiple run ins with venomous snakes
as a child, so is understandably scared of them.
He immediately screamed, grabbed it and threw it out the window.
Indy!
It took 10 minutes to calm him down and another 15 searching the yard while my son cried to
find the toy again.
Oh, it was a toy?
Yeah.
That was a real fucking snakey bottom.
His cousins were also crying because they were confused and didn't know what was happening.
I need coffee now.
It's all in the morning.
Yeah, random shit always happens.
Well, if your husband's from Jordan, why would you go buy a rubber snake?
Why not tell him beforehand at least?
Hey, there's a rubber snake over there, you know.
You're fucking terrified of them, which I know, but you know.
He puts on his whip and his hat.
It becomes Indy.
Yeah.
Next one is by Cigar Dude.
This person puts, so today I was eating lunch at this bomb ass Mexican restaurant in my
area.
I absolutely love their food and they serve their chips with enchilada sauce on top with
melted cheese.
Good Lord.
That ain't no damn Mexican restaurant.
I never heard of that shit before.
It's called Tex-Mex.
Yeah, they ain't no guy putting fucking cheese over your chips.
You get a cup of cheese, a cup of chili and a fucking like 18 gallon drum of fucking chips
that you eat and then they give you like a fucking gallon of soda watered down and then
by the time your food actually gets there, you're so full from the chips and so you're
like, oh, I don't want to fucking eat anymore.
That's a real Mexican restaurant.
He's eating Tex-Mex.
Anyways, I get up to use the restroom, which is only a one person unisex bathroom with
a wooden door.
Unisex?
I'm standing behind waiting for my turn.
You know what else is unisex?
The hammer of justice.
I'm standing behind waiting for my turn and walk up behind me.
Hang on.
Let me reread that.
Okay.
I'm standing behind waiting for my turn and up behind me walks a hot girl.
Being a gentleman, I naturally let her come in front of me.
At no point in time was I hitting on her or was I expecting anything in return?
Simply trying to be a gentleman.
However, I will note that she was pretty attractive.
The person walks out and then she goes in.
A few minutes later, she quietly walks out, smiles at me as if she's thanking me and then
I go in.
Oh my God.
Did she blow that motherfucker up?
Good Godfather, Almighty maker of heaven and earth.
Just goes like, oh, oh.
Trying to find the door handle to get out.
And he fucking locks it by accident and turns off the light somehow.
So now he's trapped in this fucking noxious film.
Good Godfather, Almighty maker of heaven and earth.
I freaking blew.
I completely fell to the ground.
Damn.
The smell was absolutely horrific and could best be described as soggy salt water, sand
mixed with rancid meat.
That's very descriptive.
Yeah, like the way he's been hit with that before, that specific smell.
I immediately started to gag and breathe through my mouth.
You know how bad a shit is?
You know how you know a shit's really bad?
It's when you yourself who just took the shit, right?
Can't handle the smell.
I know, because your body's used to smelling your own.
But when you, that's how you know it is truly a noxious element.
So he started to gag and he started to breathe through his mouth.
This only made it worse because I started to taste the smell, which only made me more
sick.
He's like.
Then I look in the toilet and see the crime scene.
She didn't even flush the toilet.
Oh my God.
You nasty bitch.
I would fucking find her table and be like, you nasty fucking whore.
Fucking tears running down my face.
My eyes are all bloodshot.
It was like accidentally clicking on the worst not safe for work picture in a sleazy underground
unmoderated forum or clicking open the mysterious AVI file you downloaded from limewire back
in the 2000s.
Damn, that man is descriptive as fuck.
I kid you not that by this time I was having trouble keeping my eyes open as I flushed
the toilet.
I don't blame him.
I bet you were so powerful that it just blew the fucking toilet lid off when he tried to
close it back down.
Just fucking blew back up.
My mouth began to water as I gagged and dry heaved.
I'm over two years sober and I haven't felt this.
I haven't had this feeling since I quit drinking alcohol.
God dang.
She just, she just, he fell off the wagon.
I threw my hand over my mouth as my delicious food started to come out and expand my cheeks
like two balloons.
So on top of this shit, it's going to throw up.
It's going to be worse.
I emptied the contents into the toilet.
Oh, so you can throw up.
Damn.
Flush, unlike Miss Manners school dropout and bolt out of the door.
The feeling of relief was like walking out of a, out of a CS chamber complete with all
orifices dripping liquid.
God.
I go up to the restaurant staff and pull an Ace Ventura shouting, do not go in there.
They're going to think it's him.
Yeah.
Of course.
Then I think that they're going to think it's me.
So I tell them that I swear it wasn't me followed by demanding that somebody empty a bottle
of Febreze or air freshener into the bathroom.
Miss Chernobyl, but it was gone by this point.
What if like, it's so powerful when you got to use a Febreze, right?
Nothing comes out.
Like the leg gets stuck in the fucking, uh,
It's like I even fight that shit.
There's such back pressure.
Yeah.
Like it just fucking falls back into the fucking canister and blows up in your hand.
I also learned today that something small, innocent looking and pretty is capable of
making the worst smell ever created in mankind.
Typing this, I still have remnants of the lingering smell of my nose.
And when I got home, I threw all my clothes in the washer and took a hot shower.
Jesus Christ.
That bad.
It must've been a fucking.
Why she giggles and laughs when she leaves.
Didn't you say that kind of happened?
Where you are with the lady blew up the bathroom.
Yeah.
She looked me dead.
Yeah.
I blew that bitch up and she walked out.
Why you next?
But she had enough like self-awareness to say she did it.
And she fucking spit in the fucking water fountain.
I blew that bitch out.
But see you expected that to be an nasty bitch.
Yeah.
I expected nothing but good manners from her.
Right?
Uh, next one is by Serum 78.
This person puts, I own a bar and often work to register every year.
At this time.
I remember my fuck up from a couple of years ago at my bar customers order a, uh, at a
designated spot at the bar where the, um, the POS is, and the person walking towards
the register takes an expedites to drink orders.
It's kind of fast foodie, but also super fast and convenient.
Why are you trying to make it sound like he was doing some sort of clandestine, like a
super scientific, you serve drinks, right?
Is that what he's saying?
Yeah.
Why are you saying like that for?
I, cause it's a point of, uh, what do you call it?
The point of sale.
That's where they order drink, I guess.
Basically you go up and you order your drinks.
Yeah.
Why do you be so fancy?
I was working the register on Halloween a few years back.
I was commenting on everyone's costumes as they came up and telling the bartenders drink
orders based on the customer's costumes.
So example, Spider-Man, what can we do for you?
Uh, a daiquiri.
We need six shots of tequila at table four for Jason mask, et cetera.
Dude comes up holding his hands in front of him at chest level.
Fingers are all crooked like he's not wearing any kind of costume.
My customers are not wearing costumes.
Of course, or many customers are not wearing costumes.
Of course.
What the hell would make up?
It'd be a demand at the front of the bar.
I don't know why, but my brain registered this as some kind of low effort costume.
He comes up and I say, Hey, weird hands guy.
What can I get for you?
Hey you with your fucked up fingers.
What can I get you?
He looks at me all taken aback and then orders a beer.
I relay the order to one of the bartenders.
We need a beer for creepy hands, man.
I hear critical fingers.
I look back at the customer and he struggles with his wallet, which is on a lanyard in
his shirt.
Then I know he's not weird hands guy for Halloween.
This is his everyday situation.
He's a weird hand guy for his whole life.
I just had no only made fun of a disabled person.
Needless to say, I never commented on a customer's costume ever again.
It still keeps me up at night.
I would imagine it's like I'd be so, I would feel so bad.
Yeah.
It's like if you said somebody, Hey, crooked eyes.
Hey, cross eyes.
Their eyes are just all fucked up.
Remember that guy I told you that had a hole in his throat?
Yeah.
And I was trying to be respectful and talk to him.
Right.
But he kept trying to, he kept sticking his finger in his throat to talk to me.
Yeah.
Now it's starting to get visibly like, like, like, like, like I didn't want you, right?
It's just making me nauseous watching that.
Just saying that like I do right now.
Oh, I thought the, the, the vomit cured all that.
And not, not certain things, man.
Can't handle.
Not the, he just kept sticking it in like his hand would come out like fucking strings
of spit with.
All right.
Next one is by chemical morning, eight zero five four.
This person puts throw away for obvious reasons.
So this happened two hours ago and I'm hiding in my room typing this now.
My parents are quite strict on jerking it.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,
that would be none of their fucking business.
That's your private time.
And being the horny ass teenager that I am, I have always found ways to satisfy my needs.
My parents were out for the day.
So I decided a good time to, you know, like the guy from American pie, so repressed, just
fuck something that shouldn't be fucked that just tears apart a watermelon and mom and
dad come home and like, what happened to the watermelon?
You're like, I just ate it all.
My parents were out for the day.
So I decided a good time to, you know, I found some bubble wrap and my genius idea that I
thought was a great idea, which was great for about 20 minutes.
Let's hear it MacGyver.
So I grabbed the bubble wrap and rolled it into a tube.
I taped it pretty tight, grabbed the lotion and got to work.
Damn, I'm so low key.
Like a hand is that's, that's it.
Just a hand.
And as I'm about to bust, I hear a sound and brush it off as something unimportant.
I finished my business and hear the door opening.
Oh God, my parents are home.
God, you don't have good ears at all.
Do you shit?
He's in the throes of ecstasy.
He probably didn't hear anything.
I quickly stuffed the bubble wrap somewhere and hide everything.
Apparently they came home after finding out the store was closed.
Damn.
They asked me what I was doing and I say, Oh, my own motherfucking business.
Oh, homework.
I looked as it looked as if they had bought it.
He just like, he just covered in sweat.
This fucking t-shirt stain.
Oh, yeah.
I was just just hanging around.
I proceeded to go, go do my actual homework for real this time and forget about the tube.
But half an hour later, I hear my dad calling John Doe made up name.
Get over here right now.
I wonder what is wrong.
And I see him holding the makeshift flesh like that.
I'm going to jack it up to my fucking bubble wrap.
My heart drops to make matters worse.
And my pathetic or excuse me, in my panic, I had forgot to clean it out.
I can still see white liquid inside and some on the floor.
We fucking busted it.
Yeah.
Jesus.
Turns out my dad was going to use the packaging cushioning or the package cushioning.
Why was it not in his room?
Just hide in there is better.
So why did he where did he leave it?
In the living room.
What the fuck did you check off and look?
What the fuck is going on?
And I had that I had used to make a flashlight.
My parents yelled at me for an hour and all I could do was sink to the ground and die.
I thought I would die of embarrassment.
They ended up they ended it with we'll talk about your consequences tomorrow.
Is the embarrassment enough?
Help what should I do to make this better?
I don't think that they're going to forget about my consequence completely.
But how should I make this better?
I need help ASAP.
Yeah.
Help.
But there is no help, bro.
No.
The fact that you get now I know why they have rules of jacking off because you're a
fucking freak.
Exactly.
Jacks off with household fucking objects.
Exactly.
I thought it was weird.
The getting into your personal business.
Yes.
Your personal business all with a fucking house.
You fucking freak.
There's your problem there.
Yeah.
Keep us sustained in your fucking room.
Yep.
And here you're getting ready to take his height at the beginning and now look.
Well, shit changes.
Fucking nasty freak.
Dirty motherfucker.
Burn the evidence like we all do.
Apparently he's too stupid.
So next one is by Blue Incorporated.
This person bits.
Right now.
This person puts.
Right now.
This second.
The pain still lingers like bad breath on a bus.
Oh my God.
I'm chilling at home watching TV or excuse me watching Twitch and having dinner.
I don't know why you'd watch Twitch of all things.
But I was thinking it should be pretty entertaining sometimes.
Just like something in the background, watch someone like listen, someone play a game that
you like listening.
Yes.
But he's doing this while having dinner.
It's his hobby.
I guess.
Just watch a movie.
Fuck.
You talk about the bad breath on a bus, right?
Yeah.
And I had this guy, his fucking breath smell like garbage.
Like and he was like at least a good two feet away from me.
Well, every time they have really bad breath, they are always close talkers too.
This guy was not a close talker and it was they still hit me.
Hit me like a fucking hammer.
I'm almost fucking buckled trying to find out, trying to help me get some get a belt.
I'm just like.
I'm like, man, what is it?
Like it was just like that.
It was like fucking 11 in the morning.
And I'm like, man, your breath is fucking disgusting.
Was it like Chris Pratt's?
Chris Pratt.
Oh, moving on.
You probably shouldn't have named our real names.
Chris Pratt's also an actor.
Oh, yeah, he is.
We don't know who he went on home by anybody.
I'm asking, is the actor's breath does this thing?
I don't know.
I never met him, but I have met his breath.
Smells like coffee, didn't it?
All right.
This person said, I'm completely in my own world, chilling alone, legs up with a plate
of sushi on my lap.
Here's the fuck up.
We'll score Jean away on my sushi.
I was completely oblivious to the placement of the wasabi on top.
I'm not sure exactly how it happened, but I assume whilst picking up the final piece
from the crotchal Armageddon, I smeared a piece of wasabi onto my fingers.
Us men all know that feeling all too well of needing to readjust down there.
So whilst being hypnotized by the TV, oblivious towards to come, I repossessioned my flesh
nub, and I met with an immediate pain.
Why didn't you grab your bear dick?
Why didn't you grab it through your clothes?
Nobody said that he was wearing clothes sitting there watching Twitch either.
Guess not.
It's fucking hard as a rock.
Butt ass naked, eating sushi and watching Twitch.
Not just burning.
I'm talking about Krakatoa on my cock.
I still had wasabi on my fucking fingers.
I swear this wasabi is much more oily because washing it still has far less of an effect.
It's been five minutes.
I hate that feeling of something that's so slick that even the water can't get it off.
Shit fucking sucks.
Like yeah, like grease oil from a car.
Jesus.
Believe me, I work on enough cars that yeah.
Just in your fucking flesh.
That and then if you change your oil and stuff.
It becomes part of you.
And venom.
It just, it looks like venom, whatever.
Next one is by Moms Siberian.
It's person puts.
So I said mom's, mom's Siberian.
You know, little fucking riot thing.
They women riot.
Jesus.
I'm like, yo, what the fuck?
This person puts, nothing was giving any signs of trouble.
Hitting that place.
That's usually how it starts.
Hitting that place after a long day always feels right.
I pulled up to the drive through line and it wasn't long.
The evening sun was filling the car with joy.
Kids laughing in the back, on the back seat.
Wife cracking up jokes.
The girl asked me what I'd like to order.
I'll go with a two by two with grilled onions and ice coke.
Right on.
She replied after each item.
Who the fuck gives you a fucking water like ice less coke?
What the, what do you mean ice?
Yeah, ice.
What else?
I've never heard of that.
Like you have to specifically ask for ice in your coke.
It's always, you always have to ask for no ice.
Yeah.
Like what the fuck kind of establishment is this?
We don't give out ice like you asked for.
It's in and out burger.
It continues.
Another two by two plain cheeseburger.
Right on.
She was very consistent and confident in what she was doing and my order was not small.
At this point I started thinking about my order more and decided not to fail the girl.
And as confident as her, I am kind of a shy person.
A few more items were left.
What the fuck is he talking about?
He's basically saying that she's saying go on after each item.
And he's worried he's going to fuck it up?
He did.
Can I get a sign of titties with the?
Right on.
She said after another item was entered.
An ice, an ice with cock, said I.
Oh, there you go.
An ice with cock.
Right before I named an extra special sauce, a lightning struck me.
My natural survival instinct forced me to attempt to continue like nothing has happened
just now.
Like if I didn't order such an extravagant dish in front of everyone.
Then in just a moment, right whenever I was about to catch back on pace with my order,
my wife says from the passenger seat out loud, hey, did you just say an ice with cock?
She embarrasses the fuck out of him.
Why would he even matter?
Like if he's what's he talking about this woman for?
His wife is right there.
And the whole car filled with laughter.
Everyone was laughing.
His wife, kids, the girl got a smirk too.
Even lizards in the shrubs were stretching their dry lips.
Like a dog is rolling in the back.
I couldn't hold myself together either.
In a few seconds, when I was able, I apologized, finished my order with the properly said iced
coke and pulled up the line.
The burger was right.
So was the customer service after, after he ordered an ice, an ice with cock.
What if he was so insecure and like shy and he just gets out the car and walks away?
That would have been funnier.
Next one is by hot dog and ketchup.
So this is very embarrassing and I literally hate everything about it.
LMAO.
I think my ass off.
I don't know why you'd have to put it in a Reddit, but sure.
So yesterday, my best friend Brent invited me to go to a bar downtown.
Since I live in Texas, everyone knows that it is scorching most of the time.
It was 90 plus degrees outside.
So I decided to put on a polo shirt, cotton shorts, which were very comfy and soft.
The usual bar outfit, except I didn't have undies on.
I didn't really think about anything that was going to happen or be bad.
Fucking rod dog in hiding.
He, that slump ass must be fierce.
So I just went with it.
And yeah, 35 minutes I arrived at the bar and pay the Uber.
It was 7 45 Brent was waiting for me outside.
We went in, ordered some drinks, the timer, the fucking pay for the Uber.
So we thought 745 dollars.
Oh my God.
We went in, ordered some drinks and then went on and had fun chatting about life and stuff.
About 8 15.
This is where everything gets really, really embarrassing.
I don't know how much alcohol Brent had consumed, but let's say it was enough to make him dance
erotically like he was part of a strip club or something.
Okay.
It's like I started working.
He grabbed my waist and started grinding on my crotch, rubbing it in his ass, not knowing
I didn't have underwear on.
Every guy knows that whenever you've had a lot of alcohol, your sex drive kind of increases
or you get whiskey, Dick.
One of the two.
Yeah, that's what I have with this one.
I don't know.
I'm not much of a drinker.
While he was grinding on me, I felt my meat stick rising up and started to panic.
I said, fuck it.
I just pulled his pants down.
Then I remember him looking back and seeing my third leg fully stood up and looked at
me like, what the fuck is that?
I'm like, what the fuck you grinding me for then?
Then when he realized he started to burst out laughing like a maniac, getting everyone's
attention.
Then I remember like five people staring at my crotch, fully go up and awake.
I don't remember much after that, except me leaving the bar.
Then Brent bombarding my phone with messages like you really did enjoy that.
Did you buddy?
What the fuck kind of weird friendship is this?
I'm real confused.
I am too.
Followed with didn't know you go that way.
Then hope you enjoyed it with laughing emojis and smirking emojis and then a kiss emoji.
How was he mocking him when he was one grinding on his fucking dick?
What the fuck is going on?
But yeah, don't go commando whenever you go to the bar.
I regret it so much to me before we move on.
This sounds like they're probably just both gay, which is fine.
It is what it is.
But why would he?
Why would he will even be embarrassed at the weird?
I'm so confused.
My question is why was the other dude grinding on him?
I'm so I'm all the aroused as well.
I don't know what's going on.
That's just a very weird story.
Yeah, I don't know.
I'm really like it does not make any fucking sense to me.
You go to the bar, you don't start grinding on another dude if you're not gay.
Yeah.
And yeah, that is the most confusing fucking story.
I fucking ever heard.
And I read it verbatim.
I haven't had a story that weird since that weird like Q and or femalian story I told
you.
It was like two different fucking stories.
It made no sense going together.
Mashed together.
Yep.
All righty.
Last one for the day is by Kodak's.
This person puts a few years ago, but here it is.
What if we were finding a story that we you talk about right and it turns out to be a
secret code for spots?
We start getting fucking phone calls and fucking emails and stuff.
They go some weird activation code.
You never know sleeper cells.
I don't know.
There's enough channels that do Reddit and stuff that probably would have already happened.
That's why they're probably getting swatted.
All right.
This person put swiped on a girl on Tinder didn't match yet.
Her profile was memorable because I live in a small town and I didn't recognize her.
Fast forward two hours and I go to work to clock in.
My boss introduces me to the new girl.
It's her.
My God.
Since she since she either swiped left or she hadn't seen it yet.
I didn't want her to think I swiped on her after we met without just talking to him talking
to her in person.
My awkwardness got the best of me and I brought it up and we both had a laugh.
We ended up going on a date snowboarding where she broke her arm in four places.
She is.
I guess she had never been snowboarding before.
So I drove her down the mountain three hours with a broken arm to the hospital, which apparently
her mother works at.
The X-ray tech thought we were dating and handed me the X-rays and asked if her mom
knew she had nipple piercings.
Hell, I didn't even know she had nipple piercings.
You awkward moment with mom a few moments later.
An eight inch metal plate and several screws is what it took to fix her arm.
I felt terrible and I helped her with lots of things over the next few weeks while she
was practically disabled and we ended up dating for a few months.
I really actually liked her a lot, but I joined the army and she ghosted me whenever I was
in basic training.
But that's another story.
You had a dear John treatment, huh?
Yeah.
That's unfortunate.
Yeah, that'd be kind of awkward.
It's like, Hey, did you know she had nipple piercings?
No.
The mom's like, Yeah, I put them on myself.
Her mom went with it to go get them.
I got 15 of them.
I'm gonna pull out her titties.
They fucking like it.
Oh, just fucking done up with piercings all over her.
It's like I got piercings everywhere.
Well, this was nice.
I went to time for me to leave and I just walk out the fucking room.
Well, I would always do that.
Like if something weird, you know what?
You know what happened at the freaking store?
Some dude fucking smoked heroin in the bathroom.
You mean injected?
No, smoked it.
Smoked heroin?
Smoked crack?
No, it was heroin.
So he had to shut it up?
No, no, that's the crazy part.
There's a way to smoke it.
I looked it up.
So basically you take aluminum foil.
And give all the directions.
It's on the fucking safety guidelines.
I guess they put it on a little aluminum foil that they light it up underneath to get it
like into like a gas form.
And they say smoke it through a straw.
And that's exactly what was in the fucking toilet in the fucking trash was a burnt aluminum
foil piece and a fucking straw.
And I looked it up online and it's like a method of heroin smoking.
I grew up in the hood and I haven't even heard of that one.
And I was like, don't you better come back in the fucking store again.
Yeah, I was like, because I took the evidence that I found, right?
Yeah.
And then I made it fit the theory.
And there's a way to smoke heroin.
Like the most ghetto-ish way.
So you can do crack that way.
I know that.
Huh, I hadn't heard that for heroin though.
Because the only way I could ever think of it is injecting it.
Because I typed in aluminum foil drugs and straw.
That's what they fucking told me.
See, that sounds more like meth though.
That's what I thought.
But when I clicked on it, it said heroin.
So a new form of heroin they're doing now.
There's always new drugs somewhere.
So it's not too strange.
Because I kept thinking like if it was smoke, I can't smell anything.
Right.
I can smell it fucking just right up to his fucking foot.
Yeah.
Because he was taking forever in the bathroom.
Like 40 minutes.
It was getting kind of weird.
Yeah.
Well, at least that one girl didn't walk out first.
Which one girl?
Oh, the one that blew up the bathroom?
I blew that bitch up.
And he thought it was so slick because he went past his girlfriend who came in with
him, right?
They both had thick ass backpacks on.
And he whispers something.
And he walks away.
And they caught me.
Or something.
And like he leaves.
And she's over here like the manager talked to her, asked if she was stealing.
Yeah.
And she's like, me?
Steal?
Never.
And she was in the store like for a full hour and didn't buy anything.
Really?
I'm like, it's 10 o'clock.
We're closed.
And like, oh, but I was like shopping.
And I'm like, I couldn't.
I got accused of stealing.
I don't steal.
I say no to drugs.
And I'm like, but your boyfriend don't.
And I'm like, I'm sorry, man, but we got to take our tails down.
We got to go to the bank and take the money when we're done.
Right.
And she's like, you want to get your stuff and come to the register?
She's like, no, I don't want to shop yet.
And I'm like, so you have all the, you know, a basket full of stuff.
And she just left it on one of the shelves.
And when I came back to get the collected stuff after I let her out, fucking a bag of
pizza rolls.
Just laying on the fucking shelf.
They do that all the time.
They leave frozen food all over the fucking shelves.
And then you can't put it back in the freezer.
No, that shit is fucking ruined.
That'd be really bad to put it back in the freezer.
There we go.
But I was like, this is ridiculous.
I know you were, she was trying to steal.
She didn't get a chance.
She just couldn't get a chance.
That dumb motherfucker was smoking heroin.
And he fucked it up for both of them.
Yeah.
Because then you noticed her.
Yeah, exactly.
It's his fucking fault.
She beat his ass when she saw him.
No, don't worry.
He probably beats hers.
He was shorter than me.
So I doubt it.
Okay.
Stomps him out.
Anything else to add before we head out today?
I hate the night shift.
Yeah.
We get the weird ones.
If they're not pissing in a New Year's Day hat and leaving it on the shelf, they're doing
something else.
If only I could say half of the things that I've seen.
It's not retail, but you're not allowed.
It's customer service.
It's still customer service.
Yeah.
But it'd be too easy to pick out what I do for a living.
Other than that.
Alright, we will see you guys on the next one.