Picture this: you’re just innocently strolling down the aisles of your favorite store, minding your own business, when out of the blue, someone mistakes you for an employee. It’s like a comedy sketch waiting to happen! From being bombarded with outrageous customer requests to being mistaken for the CEO of the store (yes, you read that right!), these tales will leave you wondering how on earth anyone could confuse a regular shopper for an employee. But hey, stranger things do happen, right?
I was doing some late-night shopping on a Sunday Night in Walmart when this woman comes up to me.
“Excuse me, I need help finding these items.” She shoves a list to my chest.
“I’m sorry, miss. I don’t work here.” I think that was the wrong thing to say as she just explodes on me.
“DON’T BE LAZY! YOU’RE IN THE UNIFORM!” My shirt was the same color as a Walmart employee’s but I was not an employee.
“It’s the same color, but I repeat, I’m not an employee. I can’t help you.”
“YOU LAZY F! GET ME YOUR MANAGER! I’M GOING TO GET YOU FIRED!”
I decided to just walk away. She yells and tries to chase after me but I keep running until I lose her. Then I go and pay for my things.
Now, a week later, I was told I would be interviewing someone who was applying for the secretary position in our company. So, I go to the interview room and call in the applicant. I look at the picture on the application form and my eyes widened. It was the same woman who harassed me in the Walmart.
Oh, now this was too perfect. She came in, saw me, gasps.
“Take a seat, please,” I said and she sits down, looking pale.
Oh, I was going to enjoy this but I conducted the interview as professionally as possible. I made it very painful for her.
“So, if someone came up to you and asked for help in a place you did not work, then you told them you didn’t work there, and then they yell at you and then they harass you and then they come to a job interview and you were the one interviewing them, what would you do? Would you give them a job?”
She did not get the job and I got some payback.
We moved into a new house a few years ago. 2 days after we get settled in, it’s a gorgeous day so I’m out tending the garden. If you live in Louisiana you’ll realize that nice days are few and far in between. It’s hot and muggy.
About 30 minutes after I start, this woman walks beside the house. She compliments my garden and asks how much my services cost. So I told her ma’am I don’t do services. About this time my husband walks out and puts something into the car. So all is perfectly fine right?
No. This woman decides to call the police and tell them we are robbing the place. I don’t know if her watching my husband caused that thinking as he was pulling stuff out of the house and into the vehicle or what. We were new neighbors, and moved in like a few days prior so you’d think she would have seen us moving.
3 cops show up a few minutes after she left. We didn’t know she called the cops. They pull up while both of us are wondering what the heck happened. Maybe someone we knew died or our kid got arrested. Neither. They said we were called in as an active burglar. We had to prove it was ours. She didn’t even talk to us about or mention robbery. Although I guess at the moment she just lost it. People are crazy here.
So I work late and just about every night for the last few weeks at least, I stop by Walmart to get something for dinner. I begin to walk up and down the aisles trying to figure out what I want for dinner. All of a sudden, I start hearing this guy yelling. This voice gets louder. “HEY! HEYYYY! Are you listening?” I turn to look to see what is going on and this guy approaches me. “You’re late again. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you walking in the door after 12.”
I begin to laugh, thinking this guy is joking around. Before I can even say anything he jumps on me. “You think this is funny? Your job must not be important to you. I want you to follow me to the office.”
Now I’m completely confused and start looking around like I’m on some hidden camera show. He starts to walk off and I turn around and go back to shopping.
He comes back a minute later and starts to yell. “You want to be fired? Because if you don’t come with me now, I will fire you!”
I start to laugh even harder, then ask him, “What’s my name?”
He gives me this puzzled look, so I asked him again, “What’s my name? Do you even know who I am?”
He looks at the other guys in the aisle, who have stopped stocking the shelves at this point to watch this event unfold. He then looks back at me, trying to figure out what exactly to say back to me before his head explodes.
“Good luck filing the paperwork to fire me, when you don’t even know my name!” I continue to laugh at this whole stupid charade. I pick up some ingredients for spaghetti, trying to give this guy a clue.
He storms off and I look at the other guys in the aisle. “I’m sure he will figure it out eventually, I don’t work here.”
I work as a substitute teacher at various local high schools, I am 24 but obviously look younger according to this teacher. AT = angry teacher. Me = self-explanatory.
AT: “Why aren’t you in uniform? And no phones during school!”
I thought he was talking to a student so I ignored him.
AT: “Excuse me, don’t ignore me.” He said as he snatched my phone out of my hand.
Me: “What the f**k, give that back, I’m not a student.”
AT: “That’s detention for swearing at a teacher, you will get your phone back at the end of the day, now you will come down to the office and tell the principal about how disrespectful you are being.”
By this point, I thought it would be funnier to let him complain to the principal who I play netball with and watch his reaction. He was raging. Saying I deserved to be suspended and that students always had their phones out yada yada. The principal and I were just trying not to laugh before she told him I was a teacher too.
Me: “Now give me my phone back. Don’t you have a class to teach? Because I do.”
I have never seen anyone go so red.
I worked at Target and there was a Hobby Lobby across the street. I ran over to Hobby Lobby after a shift to grab something and I was still wearing my red shirt with the target symbols all over it.
A 20-something girl comes up to me and says “Do you know where I can find a glue gun?” I paused and just kind of looked at my shirt and I said “… you mean at this store or… like… at Target?” And she just stared at my name tag for a long time and sighed a heavy sigh and quietly said “Sorry, I don’t know where I am.”
So yesterday I was at my favorite local supermarket. I’ve been shopping there pretty much once a week for the past 6 years. I know the place like the back of my hand. I know most of the employees by name (I live in a small town of ~4000 people).
As I’m standing in the taco aisle, I am approached by a woman who must have been 75 if she was a day. SL will be a sweet lady, and M will be Me.
SL: “Son, can you help me locate the aluminium foil?”
M: “Sure, it’s right up this way.”
walks her to aisle 7b
M: “It’s pretty high up, let me grab it for you. Do you want the Reynolds or the store brand?”
SL: “The name brand please.”
hands her a 200-foot roll
M: “Do you need help finding anything else? I’m a walking directory of this store.”
SL: Hands me her shopping list
I spent about ten minutes filling her cart with heavy/hard-to-reach items, and then I got back to my shopping with a smile and a “Have a great day”.
As I’m standing in the checkout, I see the SL arguing with the floor manager (Greg, he goes to my church, and we’re pretty familiar with each other) over by the express line.
I pay for my groceries, and walk over to be nosy, and maybe help out.
SL is telling Greg that “The big guy with the red beard” helped her, “I didn’t get his name” and she wants to see him get a bonus, promotion, or employee of the month, something.
Greg is insistent that no one with that description works there.
I get to the counter, and before I can explain that I don’t even work there, Greg pipes up.
G (to SL): “Oh, you mean Mark? Yeah, he’s one of our best employees.”
G (to me): “Mark, this lady has been over here singing your praises for the past 5 minutes. I didn’t even know you were working today.”
Me (Lying through my teeth): “Well, Sharon (a cashier I know) called me and said we were slammed, so I came in on my day off.”
G: “Well that’s some real initiative, how would you like to be Assistant to the Regional Manager (we’re both huge Office fans)?”
M: “Oh my God, thank you! Are you sure?”
G: “Well, you’ve definitely earned it.”
SL: “See, this is why I shop here instead of Walmart, even though you guys charge more. You care about your employees, and your employees care about your customers.”
So that is how I became assistant to the regional manager at a store I am not even employed by.
I worked at a garden center. My uniform was khakis and a green T-shirt.
I stopped at the little grocery store right by the camp to grab some provisions. I had my little basket and was deciding on a bag of chips when a guy asked me politely where the BBQ sauce was. I said “Aisle 2 on the right-hand side halfway down”, grabbed my chips and proceeded to the checkout. The guy gets in line behind me and was mortified when he realized I didn’t work there. No worries my dude, I worked in retail far too long to not assist if I know where something is
I was in Canadian Tire and they have this touch screen thing there where you select the vehicle and it tells you the specific sizes you need for each wiper and brand. I was fiddling with the screen and I hear someone behind me say excuse me. I think she wants to use the screen to figure out what wiper to buy, so I move to the section that has the wiper brand I’m interested in and start looking for the size I need.
My assumption was wrong. She followed me to where I was now poking through the very badly stocked wipers.
From now on I’ll be ME, and she’ll be do*ch*canoe, which I’ll shorten to DC.
DC: “Why did you walk away from me, that’s very rude.”
I didn’t even know she was talking to me at this point. So I kept looking at wipers.
DC: ” This is unbelievable! I’m talking to you.”
ME: “You talking to me?”
DC: “Yeah you. I need to know what size wiper to get for my Mercedes.”
ME: “That’s what the screen is for.”
DC: “You are terrible at your job, this isn’t proper customer service.” She said all huffy.
ME: ” Umm, I don’t work here. I’m gonna go back to this now.”
DC: “I want to speak to your manager right now. This isn’t how you treat customers. Ignoring me and refusing to help me, is disgraceful.”
ME: “Still don’t work here. So going to be hard to find that manager… and you’re not listening to me… ok… ” I say to her and trail off as she’s obviously not caring at all. I go back to my wipers.
DC: “No! You’re not allowed to leave until I speak to your manager about you!”
I’ve had enough of this buffoon. I pull out my phone and call my manager. I’m self-employed, so I call the one person in my life who could reasonably be called my manager. The wife, henceforth referred to as BOSS.
ME: “I’ll call her for you, you aren’t going to be able to find her here.”
I put it on speakerphone so the crazy lady can hear. As the phone rings she’s giving me this superior smirk like I’m about to get my a** chewed out.
ME: “Hey, how’s the trip going? (She’s on a business trip)
BOSS: “Great, been having some excellent meetings with the L3s (VP level people). What’s up?”
ME: ” Picking up some wipers.”
BOSS: “And you’re so jazzed about them that you needed to call me in the middle of the day?”
ME: “Nope, got a lady here at Canadian Tire who wants to talk to my manager. I kind of thought you were the closest thing to that. Want to talk to her?”
BOSS: “What the heck?!! Am I on speakerphone?”
ME: “Oh yeah, the crazy lady can hear you, how else is she supposed to talk to my manager? Say hi to the crazy lady.”
DC is finally starting to realize that I don’t have a store logo on my shirt and that maybe I’m not an employee.
BOSS: “You’re such a j*ck*ss. I’m sorry ma’am, my husband is an idiot. But he doesn’t work there.” I start to laugh at this point.
ME: “It’s cool hun, she seems kind of slow or something. She probably doesn’t realize I’m laughing at her.” I say through my laughter while DC makes some kind of appalled noise from the back of her throat and stalks off.
I managed to get my wipers and leave the store after that without any further incident. My wife thinks I was mean to her. I say I was fighting stupidity with dumba**ery.
So I moved into a new house recently, which required me to buy a new bed and, subsequently, new sheets. That’s the background. All of it. Stop reading the preface. Go on to the story.
So I was looking for sheets inside Stein Mart because that’s where I figured might have some of those. I was wearing my BNHA tee shirt, headphones, and torn jeans. As I’m looking, an older lady (OL) comes up to me.
OL: Hey, where can I find rolling pins?
Me, taking out a headphone: Excuse me?
OL: I need a rolling pin, and you really shouldn’t be wearing those at work.
Me: I agree with you. The only problem being, I’m not at work.
OL: Oh, well could you at least find me someone who works here?
Me, now quite annoyed: No? I’m just looking for sheets.
OL: Then you should have time to help me.
Me: I said no, you should respect that.
After that, I put my headphones back in and tuned everything out, she stayed there for a couple more minutes and snapped a couple of times. It was annoying more than anything.
I am an 18 yr old male, born completely deaf and mute. Also, I am partially blind in my left eye. Usually, whenever I go out I am accompanied by my sister due to my disability.
My bad for wearing a red colored shirt almost similar to the employees working there. But if you look closely, you could see that it was not uniform. I was in the electronics section looking for some batteries when I see an old man struggling to get some DVDs on the top shelf. Since I am tall, I helped him. He thanked me(I can do lip reading) and went on his way.
Then I began looking for the batteries. That’s when I felt someone grab my left wrist. I turned around and a woman (in her late 40’s) slapped me. She was speaking something, but I couldn’t follow her lips as she spoke too fast. However, I was able to catch some words like ‘you’, ‘ignore’, ‘job’, etc. So, I signed to her that I am deaf. Apparently, this was a wrong move because she became more irate towards the signs. Again she was yelling something but I couldn’t catch anything. So I took my notebook and started writing that I am deaf and mute. Before I could finish, she grabbed my notebook and pen and threw them away. Then she slapped me again and pushed me to the ground.
Luckily, by this time a store employee came to see what the commotion was about. He saw me on the ground and helped me up. Then he asked me what happened. Before I can sign to him, Karen starts to yell at the employee. I don’t know what she said as she was not facing me. After she finished, I sign to the employee that I cannot hear or speak. Fortunately, he understood and explained this to the lady. But she is still not convinced. She tries to assault me again, but I moved away. Then I wrote and showed the employee to call the cops on her. The employee nodded and called the cops. Karen tried to run away, but the security caught her.
The police arrived in about 10 minutes. They first talked to the employee who explained the situation, about how Karen assaulted me because she mistook me for a store employee. One police officer comes and speaks to me. I understood that he wanted my version of events, so I wrote everything down and showed it to the officer. Then they went to check the CCTV footage. Then came back and asked me if I wanted to press charges. I gladly said yes. Karen was then placed in handcuffs and given a free ride at the back of a police cruiser.
My phone often rings and people want to talk to the doctor’s office. Usually, I tell them “Oh, I’m sorry, you need to dial XXXXX-XXX88 but you dialed XXXXX-XXX68 instead.” They apologize, hang up, all is well.
Not this morning though.
My phone rings, a woman is on it.
Woman: “Hello, my husband is with you. When can I pick him up?”
Me: “Uh, your husband is not here. Did you want to speak to [doctor’s office] by any chance?”
Woman: ” Yes, of course! What do you mean he’s not there? Of course, he is!”
Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but you got the wrong number. You need to -“
Woman: “What? Of course, I have the right number! When can I pick my husband up? I’m waiting outside and it’s cold!”
Me: “Ma’am, sorry, but this is not [doctor’s office]. You dialed the wrong -“
Woman: “I want to speak to the doctor directly. Put me through. I’m gonna put in a complaint about you.”
Me: “Listen, you are not talking to [doctor’s office]. You -“
Woman: “I’ve had enough! I’m coming in now. I will complain about you to the doctor directly!” CLACK
You do that, crazy lady. You do that.
A while back I was working in an office that allowed dogs. It was an open floor plan and since customers never came into the office, we kept the dogs’ food and water bowls right by the front door just because it was the most convenient space and no one else would see them but us who worked there.
Of the six of us who worked in the main office area, I was the only one who didn’t have a dog (no pets policy at the apartment) and always felt horribly left out.
To make matters worse, across the way was a doggie daycare. One day a very frantic woman came in and she had an absolutely massive basset hound with her. Usually, the only people who came into the office were associates who had appointments with someone working there, but it was rare they brought their dogs.
She ran up to me and said “Do you work here?” And I said, “Yes, how can I help you?” And she said “I wasn’t sure if you take walk-ins but I read online I could just drop him off? I tried to call but no answer.”
I didn’t know what she was talking about at that point and I said “Come again? Who did you call exactly?” Thinking if I could just saddle her off to whoever she came to see, I wouldn’t have to decipher her problem.
She said “Well it doesn’t matter now. Look, something urgent’s come up and I really need to leave him here. Here’s his food he likes and I’ll be back in a few hours and—“At this point, I wasn’t thinking of the doggie daycare. I thought maybe she was a friend of someone here.
I said, “Well alright, can I get your name please?” And she said her name and then asked if I needed her to sign anything and I was so confused at this point I just said “Why would I need you to sign something?” And she left almost immediately.
So I took Otis (the dog) to the back and showed him to my coworkers and no one knew the woman or dog. I was worried she wouldn’t come back, but at the same time, my wish for an office dog had been granted! And Otis was supremely chill. All he did all day was lie around and drool onto his own ears. I just freshened him up every now and then, took him out every couple hours, and he was happy as a clam on a big cushy dog bed we thankfully had an extra of. He just loved the attention from anywhere he could get it.
At the end of the day the woman, thank God, came back. She said “Thanks, you’re a lifesaver. How was he?” And I said, “He was a champ.” And was about to say “But why is he here” when she said “That’s a relief. Most kennels say he gets anxious around other dogs. I heard you operated at a much higher capacity, I was thrilled to see you had so few clients in the room at one time. So, how much do I owe?” And that’s when I realized she thought we were a dog daycare.
Now, I probably should’ve corrected her. But I loved my day with the office dog and I did want to get paid for supervising this strange dog all day. I just threw out the number that sounded fair and appropriate “That’ll be $20.” I said.
She replied “Really?!” In this very high tone, and I couldn’t tell if I’d overshot or undershot. But she paid me and left.
My coworkers were laughing hysterically when they realized what had happened and we thought it would just be a good story for the future.
It was a disaster from the start. The managers had absolutely no organization whatsoever. I should have known when they scheduled me for my second interview and the manager didn’t even show up I was screwed.
Towards the end of the holiday season after Christmas and before New Year’s, they offered me a non-seasonal part-time position. I was going to accept but they wanted me to work a TON for part-time and being a college student they were not willing to be flexible at all. So I said, “Nope, I am done after my last day on Jan. 6th”.
Everything was good after I was done with that train wreck and I was starting off my second semester. January 20th at 5:00 PM I get a call from Target.
Manager: “Hey this is _____ are you running a little late? You were supposed to work at 4:30”
Me: “Ummm no. I quit over three weeks ago”
Manager: “Uhhh well we are really short-staffed. Can you come in anyway?”
Me: “No. I do not work there anymore, I told you that and I’m at school”.
Manager: “Are you sure you can’t come in anyway?”
Thank goodness I’m done with that disaster! And since this holiday season is coming up I got a job at a different place. Thank goodness.
I’m brown and I’m an IT executive.
I ordered takeout from a local BBQ place and was going back to my hotel with my food in a large paper bag with the name of the restaurant written in large letters on the side.
There was a group of people outside the hotel and as I approached the hotel entrance, this woman rushes over and grabs my bag of food. I yank it back.
She goes “I’ve been waiting for this!”. It just hits me that she thinks I’m her food delivery driver here with her food. I politely tell her I’m not her delivery driver. With a confused look on her face, she goes “Are you sure? You LOOK like one”.
At this point I just want her to let go of my bag and a few of her guy friends come over and tell me to stop giving her a hard time and to hand over her food.
So I spell it out for them. I am NOT your food delivery driver. This is MY food. I’m a guest at this hotel.” I yank the bag away from her and as I enter the hotel, I see her pulling out her phone and saying “I’m calling (delivery service) and telling them what an a$$hole you are … and I want my money BACK!”
Go right ahead, lady. Go right ahead
My good friend got married last year and invited me to his wedding. I put on a nice suit, black tie, shined shoes, all that jazz. I didn’t realize I was the only white guy there until the ceremony ended. I went “…huh…” and thought nothing of it.
At the after-party, I also didn’t realize the waiters were dressed exactly like me. White shirt, black tie, shined shoes.
I’m walking around and a nice older lady (who would turn out to be the mother of the bride) approached me as I passed her table. She needed an extra seat for her table.
Her: “Excuse me…can we move this chair over here?”
Me: “Uh…yeah. Go ahead.”
Her: “Do you think that will inconvenience the other table?”
Me: “I mean, that sounds like that’s the other table’s problem.” (yes, I really said this)
Her: “…uh…alright. Are there extra chairs in the back?”
Me: “…probably? I mean, they know there is a wedding going on so I think it’ll be okay.”
Her: “… okay. Well, thank you.”
Me internally: (that was weird)
Later, I had to go to that same table to drop off my portion of the wedding purse. And that nice lady was there with her sister.
Me: “Hello again.”
Her: “Oh hi. Great timing. Do you know when we’ll be eating?”
Me: “No, but I can’t wait. Wedding food is the best, isn’t it?”
Her: somewhat annoyed“Well, with what we’re paying for this, I’d imagine it would be.”
Me: “And thank you very much for paying for it. Really, I’m so happy to be here.”
Her: “….”
Me: “…um, so is this where we leave the wedding gifts?”
Her: “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Haha. You don’t work here!”
Me: “I….What?”
2 seconds later, a waiter dressed like me walks by I understand. We all had a good laugh about it.
Right, so this took place way back in 2007 when I was in my early twenties, working full-time at an auto parts store. I drove a white 1982 Nissan Pulsar. It was ancient but no complaints. (Relevant, I promise).
It’s 7 am, I’m driving to work one morning and pull up at a crosswalk to allow a dog walker to pass me. Without warning, my passenger door opens and a gentleman hops in next to me, nods, says a friendly hello and buckles his seatbelt. He was a sweet-faced, white-haired senior wearing a sweater and brown pants. Definitely in his 80’s.
I stared in shock and stumbled over my words, totally bewildered by what was happening. He saw my expression and said “Oh! I’m sorry! The train station, please!”
That’s when I saw the taxi rank near the crosswalk. Taxis here are white but definitely not hatchbacks like my car was. He had a big cheery smile and, still puzzled, I realised that the local train station was two streets away from where I worked. I was heading past there anyway. And he didn’t seem like an axe m*rderer so, why not?
I relaxed a little, shrugged and said “Uh, sure thing.” We drove off together and he peered out the window, smiling.
He said “You taxis are much quicker these days! Ah, it’s a beautiful day for a train ride, don’t you think?” He looked at me, still with this big smile and said:
“I’m Jerry, lovely to meet you. I’m meeting my friend for breakfast today! I’m so excited. I haven’t been on the train in years. All my friends have passed on and I don’t really need to go out of town. Well, not until I made a new friend recently. It’s funny how life goes, isn’t it? An old codger like me with a breakfast date! Can you imagine?”
“Oh well, that sounds lovely, Jerry. Where are you off to?” He cheerily described the town he was visiting (an hour away by train) and described the store he wanted to visit while he was there.
We chatted the whole way and I was so taken by how upbeat and cheerful he was. We pulled into the offloading zone outside the train station and he pulled out his wallet. I jumped in, saying “Oh no charge mate, I don’t have my meter working yet.”
(Telling a lie was better than deflating his happy spirit with an embarrassing situation)
He was chuffed. It was a chilly morning. I walked him to the ticket office, where there was a heated waiting room he could sit in until his train arrived.
He thanked me, smiled and said “It’s a beautiful day for a train ride. You take care now.” “Take care, Jerry.”
It’s been 11 years and I often find myself smiling when I remember him.
I worked in Data Support (as fun as it sounds) for a company that was situated in the business district of my city. In that job it was extremely important to leave the building on your lunch, not doing so meant others assumed you were having a working lunch.
On lunch, I would go into the shopping areas of the city and just look around, grab something to eat and ensure I was back at work at exactly the time I needed to be and no earlier.
This day I decided to go into Primark, which is a clothing store in the UK. I was casually browsing the shirts and completely in a world of my own.
I must have been looking around the same area for a few minutes when I felt a presence to the right of me. Now, this isn’t unusual, busy store, middle of lunchtime and a fairly tight space between the clothes rails.
I get fed up with looking at the shirts, and turn to walk away, only to hear:
“OH F*CKING CHRIST!”
I turn to see the man that was standing close to me with a look of sheer terror in his eyes, staring at me for a moment in disbelief. This confused me, a lot.
I was about to ask if everything was okay and this guy’s terror turns into a relieved laugh. Covering his face and turning quite red at the scene he’d just made in a busy store, he said:
“I thought you were a mannequin.”
This was something that happened a lot while ago when I first started dating my now fiancé – it came up in conversation the other day as my fiancé’s best man was threatening to put it in his speech, much to the embarrassment of my soon-to-be mother-in-law.
My fiancé and I met at university, many many miles away from his home city. We were in some of the same classes, and romance blossomed. We’d been a couple for a few months when he said that his parents were coming to see him and wanted to meet me as well. The plan was for us to all go out for dinner together the evening they arrived, however, my boyfriend had an unmissable meeting scheduled just before we were meant to be leaving. We decided that I’d go ahead and meet them (and be interrogated…) and my boyfriend would try to hurry up the meeting and go straight from there.
This restaurant was fancy-ish – you’d definitely wear smart-casual clothing to dine there, and the staff were all in a similar dress of white shirt/blouse, pressed trousers and smart shoes. I was wearing the smartest dress I had which was a dark red, definitely not uniform.
I get there 10ish minutes late and a little bit sweaty and out of breath, and spotted my boyfriend’s parents (I’d seen pictures of them so I knew what they looked like) sitting at a table. I put on a ‘don’t let them know you’re nervous’ smile and walked over there – this is the conversation that followed:
Me: Hi there, sorry I’m late, it’s lovely to meet you…
MIL: Oh, someone’s already taken our drinks order, we’ll be ready to order food when the rest of our party gets here.
Me: I’m not your waitress, I’m [my name], [fiancé’s name]’s girlfriend. Sorry for being late.
My poor future mother-in-law turned the colour of my red dress. She apologised for a good 2 minutes while my future father-in-law had a fit of the giggles. It was not the most conventional way of meeting the in-laws, but it definitely broke the ice. It wasn’t brought up when my boyfriend arrived but I mentioned it afterwards and it made him laugh too. Although it didn’t have any lasting effect, my MIL definitely doesn’t want this announced at our wedding!
I do my shopping at the exact same time every week in a large grocery store. There’s a little old woman who usually does her shopping at around the same time. She has some mobility issues and doesn’t buy much, so after a few times of seeing her having to flag down help every time she wanted something from a shelf above shoulder level, I approached her and asked if she’d like a shopping companion.
It took me under ten minutes to get everything on her list and she was very gracious and grateful, even offered me a few dollars, which I didn’t accept of course. I didn’t give this a second thought, I wasn’t raised to question whether you take ten minutes to help an old woman in the grocery store or not, it’s just what you do.
One week I didn’t do my shopping at the usual time, I worked a little late, and when I came in there was a big fuss at the customer service desk, involving my shopping friend and a young man.
I started to go over to be sure everything was alright, and hear the young man saying “What do you mean no one with that name works here? He had a name tag on. My mom saw the name, right Ma?” And she says he did. And the flummoxed customer service kid is saying he really doesn’t have anyone by that name who works there.
The young man is going “What do you mean? Did you fire him? He was here last week, right ma?” And I realize it’s my name and the potential source of confusion.
I go in for shopping immediately after work, and my work uniform is a maroon shirt and khaki pants, with a name tag.
The grocery store I shop at has white shirts, any kind of pants you want, and a maroon apron with the store’s logo. So a little similar.
I go over and she gleefully cries “There you are! I want you to meet my son!” And he started telling me how grateful he is I was taking time out of my work to personally help his mom shop and now that he’s in town he wanted to say thanks in person and give me some money or “At least put in a good word with your manager at the store, so could you point them out so I can speak with them? Not that one though, that one thought you’d been sh*tcanned.”
I explained the confusion and they were both so touched, it was one of the most poignant moments of my life, and definitely the most meaningful I’ve ever had in a supermarket.