Uniforms and name tags exist not as a fashion statement. They exist so that customers an easily differentiate employees from non-employees. For instance, if a nurse walks into a grocery store after clocking out, they would not need to expect someone tapping them on the shoulder to ask what aisle the bean dip is... or so they would assume. Not every non-employee is so fortunate.
There are more stories of innocent, random bystanders being mistaken for employees by oblivious (and often entitled) customers than one would believe. People have shared these perplexing encounters with to Reddit. There are some of the most outrageous moments involving delusional customers and someone who clearly did not work there.
Content has been edited for clarity.
An Unnecessary Cop Call
“So I work as an armed guard for armed truck service. For those who don’t know, we are responsible for picking up money and checks from other businesses. (I.e. banks, stores, restaurants, etc.) As part of my job is handling large amounts of cash, I carry a side arm in order to protect myself and the money. Where I live, I have to have what’s called a concealed carry permit to have such weapon outside of work hours, which I have.
So I am on my way home and have to stop at the store to pickup dinner for myself. The store I go to has employees that wear a blue polo and tan pants. My uniform is black pants and red polo with company name on it. And as I had just got off work I still have my name badge on and side arm in its holster on my hip.
Cue crazy lady. I’m browsing the freezer aisle and she stops me and starts to ask where product z is. She stops dead in her tracks as she sees my weapon in it holster. Stops talking and fast walks out of the aisle. I just assume she realized I don’t work there and left to find someone who does.
I go about my business and proceed up to the cashier line. As I’m waiting to get up to check out in comes a swarm of about 8 police officers. They come straight to me with crazy lady behind shouting “that’s him, that’s the guy with the weapon.” They point their glocks at me and order my hands up. I drop what I have and comply. I state that I work for company z and that I have a permit for my weapon.
They lower and holster their weapons after the commotion and apologize for the confusion, but said they got a call about a guy walking around the store waving a weapon around. I say I’m sorry, but since I have been here my weapon has been holstered. Never left the holster.
They turn to the lady and ask if it’s true that I never took my weapon out of the holster. She yells that I’m lying and that I can’t have a weapon in the store anyway. They of course go and check the security footage and see that I did nothing wrong and let me go on about my business and apologize again for the misunderstanding.
They then turn around and handcuff the lady who called and told her she is being arrested for misusing the 911 system and inciting panic.”
“Treat Me Like An Idiot, I Reply In Kind”
“I was a paramedic and worked for a hospital in my city. My uniform was blue pants and a blue polo shirt with the name of the hospital, and it also says ‘Emergency Medical Services’ underneath that. So, I was wearing blue work pants with the extra pockets, like cargo pants, and I had my stethoscope around my neck. I was in the automotive section of Walmart looking for light bulbs for my car. I was on my phone chatting and looking up which part I needed when someone tapped me on the shoulder kind of aggressively, which immediately ticked me off. I turned around.
CUSTOMER: ‘Where are the regular light bulbs at?’
ME: [blank stare because I was confused, at first]
CUSTOMER: ‘I SAID WHERE ARE THE REGULAR LIGHT BULBS AT?!!’
Yes, she started yelling at me, which ticked me (a 5’9”, 235 lbs, muscular guy) off. I only mention this because I was a gym rat back then and she was, maybe, 5’ and 100 lbs on a good day. I pointed to my neck and my chest because, well, you treat me like an idiot, I reply in kind.
CUSTOMER: ‘What is that supposed to mean? I want to know where the lightbulbs are at!’
ME: ‘Did you see—’
CUSTOMER: ‘You want to get smart with me? Fine! I’ll find your manager, you idiot!
ME: [seeing red now] ‘GET THE HECK OUT OF MY FACE AND DON’T TOUCH ME AGAIN, WENCH!!!’
She ran away and I went back to shopping. Two minutes later, she had a poor manager who looked flustered in tow and pointed to me.
CUSTOMER: ‘There! There’s your employee! He threatened me!’
The manager looked at me and at her incredulously.
MANAGER: ‘He’s a paramedic. He doesn’t work here.’
CUSTOMER: ‘Yes, he does! Look at the uniform! I’m calling the cops!’
MANAGER: ‘Do what you want, but it’s clear from his stethoscope and emblem that he’s a paramedic not one of our employees.’
CUSTOMER: ‘He threatened me! You have it on camera!
ME: ‘Let’s see the cameras where you approached me and started yelling at me first and then me yelling back at you, but never actually approaching you. I think the police would be real interested in you physically touching me and technically assaulting me.’
CUSTOMER: ‘Well, I’m going to call your work and tell them what you did.’
ME: ‘Go ahead. Here’s a pen with our number on it. Ask for (my boss’ name). Before you do, know that I’m almost done with school for something different and I am about to quit anyway.’
I held the pen out to her and she muttered and huffed and puffed away.
MANAGER: ‘Are you OK?’
ME: ‘I’m fine.’
The manager just shook his head.
MANAGER: ‘When you’re done grabbing your stuff, I’ll be at this section. I’ll ring you up.’
It was close to the holidays, so the lines were super long because, well, it’s Walmart. I got my things and checked out in record time. As I was leaving the store, I saw the lady with a few items and the only lines open were the regular lines, no express. I walked by and held up my bag and gave her the biggest grin and wave. Her face became redder than a tomato with anger.”
All This Over Some Milk
“I was out at a local grocery, just doing a basic food run. While walking past the milk coolers, I grabbed the last two pint bottles of chocolate milk. As I let the door to the cooler close and put the bottles in my cart, I noticed a rather hefty woman standing a tad too close to me.
As I started walking away, I heard her say, ‘Where are you taking those?’ Unaware she was talking to me, I kept walking. Next thing I knew, my upper arm was grabbed and pulled.
Now for reference, I’m about 6’2”, built like a brick house, and generally a fairly bristly person, so I’m sure my demeanor didn’t help the situation. At first, I just sort of stared at her, almost surprised that she had the gall to act this way with a stranger that looks like I do.
WOMAN: ‘I said, where are you taking those?’
WOMAN: ‘What are you doing with those chocolate milks?’
ME: ‘Buying them?’
WOMAN: ‘OK, well, first off, lose the attitude, and second, I’m sure you’re supposed to let customers have them and not take them for yourself.’
At this point, I will point out that it took me some time to realize that she thought I worked there because the uniform for this store is red shirts and khaki pants. I was wearing tan pants; a red, white, and blue flannel; and a brown jacket.
ME: ‘What are you talking about?’
WOMAN: ‘Those were the last two milks. Give them to me.’
ME: ‘Oh, get stuffed.’
I then walked away a few aisles down to look at soups. I stepped a few feet away from my cart, so as not to block other people trying to come through the aisle, when I saw movement in my periphery. I figured it was her and decided it was best to just laser focus on the soup and ignore her. After waiting for a bit and sensing her leave, I went back to my cart and immediately noticed my milks were gone. I was then in a sort of mood where the next person that talked to me could have been Tom Hanks and I would probably be rude.
I continued my shopping when the woman came walking over with an employee – I assumed a manager. She shoved a one of her sausage fingers in my face and shouted about how ‘this is the employee who took my groceries and told me to “get stuffed.” I want him fired, NOW.’
Now that I had realized what was going on, I just about lost it.
ME: ‘I don’t freaking work here, you moron.’
MANAGER: ‘Woah. Hey. now.’
WOMAN: ‘See what I mean? Fire him.’
MANAGER: ‘Ma’am, he doesn’t work here.’
WOMAN: ‘Then, why did he say he did?!’
ME: ‘I DIDNT!’
WOMAN: ‘You’d better watch your tone, my husband is-‘
At that point, the woman was cut off (though, I am genuinely curious as to what her husband was. An eggplant farmer? As big of a moron as her? The world may never know) by another store employee, this one wearing a black shirt and khaki pants, although the shirt had the store logo on it. I believe he was their asset protection employee.
ASSET PROTECTION: ‘Ma’am, may I look in your bag?’
WOMAN: ‘What? No. Why?’
MANAGER: ‘What’s up, “Greg”?’
ASSET PROTECTION: ‘I was watching the monitors and saw her take something out of this guy’s cart and put it in her bag.’
I started laughing.
WOMAN: [to me] ‘Darn you!’ [to the employees] ‘I was going to pay, I just didn’t want him trying to take them back!’
I started to walk up to the front so I could pay and leave. As I got there, I noticed a couple local police officers walking in and an employee point them off to the guy in the black shirt, who was then walking the woman up front as well. As they walked past me toward a back office, I heard one of them explaining to the woman, who is then in hysterics, that ‘Yes, ma’am, just hiding them in your purse constitutes retail fraud.’
I then left, wanting nothing more to do with this lady. Moral of the story: play stupid games, win stupid prizes.”
“Don’t Talk To Me Unless It Is To Thank Me”
“My husband is a peaceful giant. He is 6’5” and can look quite imposing, even though he really is a teddy bear – never stressed or aggressive, never overreacting our raising his voice. Just a peaceful giant.
So there we were, at the grocery shop, with our 6-month-old baby, shopping for food and whatnot. It was winter in Canada (so, you know, cold) and we were both wearing our coats. The kid was fussy and nothing really calms him except when we carry him in our arms. It was my turn and my husband was going back and forth, gathering what we needed and bringing the items to our cart when this banshee got in his face (figure of speech, she was like 5’2″) and started yelling at him.
BANSHEE: ‘ARE YOU DONE? You’ve been helping her FOREVER and I NEED HELP! NOW!’
HUSBAND: [with his smooth, everything-is-good kind of tone] ‘I’m so sorry, but I’m afraid I do not work here.’
BANSHEE: ‘BULL! I just saw you help HER shopping. NOW, you help ME! AND YOU DO NOT TALK BACK TO ME!’
BANSHEE: ‘STOP! Don’t talk to me unless it is to thank me. Are we clear?’
My husband saw me boiling and about to interfere, but made a sign that said he was going to deal with it. He then calmly looked at her with a smile.
BANSHEE: [smuggling] ‘GOOD! Now, help me grab the last [item] on this high shelf. WHY IN HECK you people always put the stuff I need so high is BEYOND me. Now, chop-chop!’
My husband grabbed the item, but instead of giving it to her, he kept it just a tiny bit out of her reach. He looked at it and then at me.
HUSBAND: [grinning] ‘Honey, do we need [this item]?’
ME: [catching on] ‘Well, as a matter of fact, yes! We do!’
BANSHEE: ‘WHAT?! HOW DARE YOU GIVE HER MY STUFF! IT’S MY STUFF! GIVE IT TO ME!!!’
Super slowly, my husband got closer to the lady. He is so imposing that she calmed down immediately. With the biggest of smile and the most polite voice ever, he said to her, ‘Again, I do not work here… but thank you for showing me [the item]. We were about to forget it.”
And with that, he put the item in our cart, grabbed the baby, and, together, we left. In the background, the lady howled some profanities. All three of us smiled. I love my husband.”
“I Called The One Person Who Could Reasonably Be Called My Manager”
“I was in Canadian Tire. For all non-Canadians, it’s like a mix between a Walmart, a Home Depot, a Bass Pro Shop, and an auto shop. I was wearing jeans and an old red polo shirt. The employees there wear black pants and a red polo with a triangle and maple leaf logo on the chest. I was getting wipers for my car because mine aren’t clearing the rain off my window anymore.
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 going through the different sizes and makes of wipers and reading reviews on each one (I research everything before I buy it, drives my wife crazy). I heard someone behind me say, ‘Excuse me.’ I thought she wanted to use the screen to figure out what wiper to buy, so I moved to the section that has the wiper brand I was interested in and started looking for the size I needed.
My assumption was wrong. She followed me to where I was now poking through the very badly stocked wipers.
LADY: ‘Why did you walk away from me? That’s very rude.’
I didn’t even know she was talking to me at that point. So, I kept looking at wipers.
LADY: ‘This is unbelievable! I’m talking to you.’
I finally clicked in that I was the one she was talking to. So, I stupidly turned to face her while gripping a 28″ wiper like a toddler holds a crayon.
ME: ‘You talking to me?’
LADY: ‘Yeah, you. I need to know what size wiper to get for my Mercedes.’
ME: ‘That’s what the screen is for.’
I gestured toward it with the wiper in my hand and went back to searching for the second elusive 28-incher.
LADY: ‘You are terrible at your job. This isn’t proper customer service.’
ME: ‘Umm, I don’t work here. I’m gonna go back to this now.’
LADY: ‘I want to speak to your manager right now. This isn’t how you treat customers. Ignoring me and refusing to help me, it’s disgraceful!’
At that point, she kind of stomped off, but only a few aisles away, and the aisles in the automotive department aren’t full height ones. They are, like, chest height so you can see right across the whole department. She just did a few laps of the aisles around where I was. She was looking all over the place for a manager but not going far, I think, so she didn’t lose sight of me.
ME: ‘Still don’t work here. So, going to be hard to find that manager… and you’re not listening to me… OK… ‘
She was obviously not caring at all. I went back to my wipers. While she was on her walk, I found my wiper and started to head toward the checkouts. She chased me down and got in front of me, trying to stop my escape before a manager got there.
LADY: ‘No! You’re not allowed to leave until I speak to your manager about you!’
I had had enough of this buffoon. I pulled out my phone and called my manager. I’m self-employed, so I called the one person in my life who could reasonably be called my manager: the wife.
ME: ‘I’ll call her for you. You aren’t going to be able to find her here.’
I put it on speaker phone so the crazy lady could hear. As the phone rang, she gave me this superior smirk like I was about to get my rear end chewed out.
ME: ‘Hey, how’s the trip going?’ (She was on a business trip.)
WIFE: ‘Great. Been having a some excellent meetings with the L3’s (VP level people). What’s up?’
ME: ‘Picking up some wipers.’
WIFE: ‘And you’re so jazzed about them that you needed to call me in the middle of the day?’
The lady was getting really frustrated at that point. I was obviously not getting to the ‘me getting fired’ fast enough for her.
ME: ‘Nope. Got a lady here at Canadian Tire who wants to talk to my manager. I kind of thought you’re the closest thing to that. Want to talk to her?’
WIFE: ‘What the heck?! Am I on speaker phone?’
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.’
The lady was finally starting to realize that I did not have a store logo on my shirt and that, maybe, I was not an employee.
WIFE: ‘You’re such a dolt. I’m sorry ma’am. My husband is an idiot. But, he doesn’t work there.’
I started to laugh at that point.
ME: ‘It’s cool, hun. She seems kind of slow or something. She probably doesn’t realize I’m laughing at her.’
The lady made some kind of appalled noise from the back of her throat and stalked 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 more stupidity.”
“Lazy Piece Of Rubbish, Aintcha?”
“I went out for lunch and decided to have some McDonald’s. The restaurant had two doors, one of which was closed due to being next to a remodeling area inside the venue. I was sitting across from said door, just enjoying my meal, when an old couple tried and failed to open the locked door. They somehow managed to not see the sign indicating that the door was locked, while pressing their faces against the glass. The old guy spotted me and signaled the door. I ignored him and continued to eat.
I should mention that I was not dressed in any way as a McDonald’s employee. I was wearing a copper red shirt, and blue jeans. Eventually, they made it in and he, alone, came over to my table.
‘Lazy piece of rubbish, aintcha?’ he asked.
‘Only on Thursdays,’ I replied.
OLD GUY: ‘Why didn’t you open the door?’
ME: ‘Because I’m eating and I don’t work here.’
OLD GUY: ‘You are lying. Get me your manager.’
ME: ‘My manager is in New York on a business trip.’
‘Bull!’ he screamed as he slapped my tray off my table, with my meal on it. So I got up, he squared up, and I walked past him. I made it to the register, with him right on my heels yelling things like, ‘Not so tough now, right? Gonna go cry to your manager now?’ I didn’t need to ask for the manager, since the old guy was being so loud.
OLD GUY: ‘This lazy piece of rubbish wouldn’t open the door for us because he was eating, so do something about it.’
ME: ‘That’s right, and he knocked my tray off the table.’
OLD GUY: ‘You got that meal for free. You’ll get another, so quit your whining.”
MANAGER: ‘You’re right. He is getting a meal for free. You need to leave. I can’t have you assaulting my customers, so please leave or you will be kicked out.’
OLD GUY: ‘But the customer is always right and you shouldn’t reward lazy employees for being lazy and talking back to a customer!’
MANAGER: ‘He doesn’t work here. He is a customer and you are on your way out.’
By that point, it seemed to have clicked for the old guy. He stared at me, then back to the manager. He called his wife, and both walked out. I got a free meal and they gave me an Oreo sundae. Thanks, Old Guy!“
“I Am Too Young To Sell Adult Beverages”
“My dad owns a few gas stations. When I have a break from school, I go with him to work and just sit there at the register or in the office. I was 12 when this happened so I did not look like an adult.
At one store, the cashier and I were friends, so we talked for a while when he was not working. My dad was in the office – a separate building next to the station. The cashier went to use the restroom and I just sat there doing nothing. Finally, a woman came in with her twin daughters, who looked to be my age and had common sense. She told her kids to get some candy and she went to get some adult beverages. They came up to the register and set their stuff on the counter.
ENTITLED MOTHER: ‘OK, here we go.’
She set her stuff on the counter.
ME: ‘Sorry, ma’am. You have to wait for the cashier to come back.’
ENTITLED MOTHER: ‘Can’t you just do it? I am in a hurry.’
ME: ‘No, I can’t.’
ENTITLED MOTHER: ‘Why can’t you?’
ME: ‘I don’t work here.’
ENTITLED MOTHER: ‘You’re lying and if you were telling the truth, then why are you back there?’
ME: ‘I am the owner‘s son.’
ENTITLED MOTHER: ‘Then you could help me with this stuff, right?’
ME: ‘No, I am too young to sell adult beverages.’
ENTITLED MOTHER: ‘You don’t look too young.’
I am tall for my age.
TWIN DAUGHTER 1: ‘Mom, we can just wait. Don’t cause a scene.’
TWIN DAUGHTER 2: ‘Yeah, he looks our age. He won’t be able to help us if he did work here.’
They then went to get more stuff, but I knew they were just embarrassed and wanted to hide their faces. The cashier came back then.
CASHIER: ‘Hi, ma’am, let me get that for you.’
ENTITLED MOTHER: ‘I just want to let you know that your co-worker was refusing to help me earlier.’
CASHIER: ‘He is not my coworker. He is the owner’s son.’
ENTITLED MOTHER: ‘Bull. Let me speak to the manager about both of you.’
CASHIER: ‘I am the manager of the store.’
She then got quiet and just paid and left with her daughters.”
The “Bouncer” In The Kilt
“I wear a kilt and a comfy T-shirt or a plaid button down when not at work. This story happened at the bar I frequent. I go there to dance. I am the only guy who goes there in a kilt on the regular, but me wearing something different is considered wrong to a hilarious degree.
I was going between the two dance floors like normal and most likely had been seen by this inebriated chick helping a couple of people out (nothing out of the normal). She then grabbed me as I was walking by and pointed to a chick and said, ‘She is trashed. You need to get her out of here,’ to which I responded, ‘Sorry, what?’
I was genuinely not catching what the heck she meant by this. It was loud and she was also nowhere near sober. She then repeated, ‘My friend is fully inebriated. You need to lead her out,’ to which I responded, ‘Sorry, I can’t help. I don’t work here.’
She called bull and said, ‘You are a bouncer. Now, go do your job.’ I, again, let her know that I did not work there. She then tugged at my T-shirt and said, ‘Then why the heck are you wearing this?!’
Please note: the bouncers all wear black T-shirts that say ‘Security’ on them. I was wearing a fluorescent orange shirt with the name of my gym on it. Also note that all the bouncers wear jeans and boots while I was wearing a kilt and loafers. I explained that it was a gym shirt and pointed out an actual bouncer, who happened to be walking near us.
I stopped him and said, ‘She has something she needs to ask you,’ and she proceeded to tell him she wanted him to help with her friend. She then said, ‘And this guy was no help at all. You should talk to your manager about him,’ at which point he looked at me with a What the heck? look. I am buddies with him, but he knew I didn’t work there, and told her that. Then, she repeated the same, ‘Then WHY IS HE WEARING THAT?!’
He then said, ‘What, a T-shirt and a freaking kilt?’
I left at that point. I swear, I think she STILL thinks I work there. The rest of the night went pretty well, though. Got a few hours of line dancing in.”
“If I Remember Correctly, Your Name Is Carl, Right?”
“I work for a towing company – casual attire, no uniform of any sort. We seize vehicles for our local police force and people who park in other people’s parking spots. I work in the office and process releases from our yard. I remember everyone who makes a scene over my company seizing their vehicles because of the stupid things they do.
Prior to my incident with ‘Carl,’ he had shown up at my office to get his vehicle back that was seized for back alley banging (caught with a lady of night). He lost his mind on me because the police chief decided when to release these vehicles in these types of situations and they hadn’t sent in a release for it yet, so I couldn’t release it. Carl lost his mind and said he’d make my life a living nightmare cause he would not forget me.
About a month later, I was browsing around the local book store, looking for something to keep me entertained during the dead times at work. I had four books in my arms and had just put a book back in the shelf because it didn’t look like something I would enjoy. I heard a familiar voice behind me. I couldn’t remember why until I saw his face. Low and behold, it was Carl.
I don’t like confrontations so, in order to not catch his eye, I quickly scurried off to another area of the store. He followed me and tapped on my shoulder. I completely ignored him, continued my browsing while scooching away without him seeing my face. All the sudden, he just started in on me.
CARL: ‘Hey! Can you tell me where the kids section is?’
ME: ‘Uh, sorry. No.’
CARL: ‘Why the heck can’t you?!’
ME: ‘Well, I don’t work here. Sorry.’
CARL: ‘You’re holding an arm full of books and I watched you shelving them. Now help me!’
ME: ‘Don’t work here, sorry.’
CARL: ‘Listen here, wench, I asked for your help. Now help me!’
At that point I was fed up with his nonsense, so I turned to him and once he saw my face, he got this strange look on his face as if he recognized me.
ME: ‘If I remember correctly, your name is Carl, right?’
CARL: ‘Uh, yeah?’
ME: ‘I’d really appreciate it if you’d leave me the heck alone while I’m here or anywhere else you may see me. I don’t work here and judging by the way you’re looking at me, you know I don’t work here. You’re trying to remember where you remember me from. Well, let me help you with that: my company seized your vehicle because you were caught with a lady of the night.’
Well, he lost his mind – cursing, swearing. He actually slapped me at one point, which I was completely dumbfounded he thought he had that right seeing as I am barely 5′ tall and he’s 6’4″. The manager of the store called the cops and, when they arrived, they got stories from me, Carl, and the manager, all of which resulted in Carl getting arrested, charged, and his vehicle being seized, once again, by my company.”
“I Was Literally Being Dragged Against My Will”
“I was 14 and was visiting my aunt and uncle over the summer. My aunt worked at the pharmacy a few blocks away. One day, I had to get some feminine products as I had run out. So, I decided I would bring some lunch and eat with my aunt on her lunch break.
I went straight to the feminine products and, in my haste, accidentally knocked some down. So, I squatted down to pick them. I also had my earbuds in listening to music. I was on the floor for maybe a minute when I was forcefully pulled up to a standing position. I turned and was met with a barbecue-stained T-shirt. I looked up and I realized the guy wearing it was very angry and still holding onto my arm. He then started angrily ranting about how I shouldn’t be wearing earbuds at work and should listen when someone was speaking to me.
I gruffly said, ‘I don’t work here. Go find someone else,’ and pulled my arm from his grip. Suddenly, he was furious. He grabbed my arm and started pulling me to the front, saying he was going to get me fired for being so rude. I was literally being dragged against my will, so I started screaming, ‘Help! I’m being assaulted! He’s trying to kidnap me!’ He told me to shut up and still wouldn’t let go!
People finally started coming around the corner as we got to the cash register. The lady there was horrified and told him to let go of me and she was going to call the cops. He did not let go, but realized he was going be in trouble. So, in an effort to cover his rear end, he started saying that I was his daughter and I was trying to steal and his wife was right here to prove it. His wife looked a little shocked, but quickly composed herself. She then marched right up to me and slapped me saying, ‘I didn’t raise my daughter to steal.’ They turned, still pulling me along, to leave. The whole time, I was utterly horrified and didn’t really say anything.
At that point, my aunt came from the back room and was utterly shocked. She started screaming to let go of me. They started yelling that they were just disciplining their daughter. My aunt screams back that I’m her niece and they were going to jail. The guy quickly let go of me and literally ran for the exit. The cashier lady followed them out, yelling at them.
Turned out the cops had just pulled up outside and arrested them. I stayed in the back room as I was freaking out. But my aunt talked to the cops and pressed charges. They were charged with assault, attempted kidnapping, theft (they took their unpaid items with them when they ran), and something else that I can’t remember. I know the guy got 18 months in jail and a fine and the woman got a huge fine for having an illegal substance on her.”
She Should Have Realized No One Would Believe An Autistic Child Assaulted Her
“I, working as a door greeter in the lawn and garden section, saw this autistic young man. I guess he was autistic, as he seemed predominantly focused on his action and kind of had the actions of an autistic individual. This young man was sorting and moving potted flowers around, putting them in a very specific order – matching colors, size of pots, and height of the flowers themselves. He was doing an amazing job at it too, I may add.
He was bothering no one and most folks were just noticing him doing a bang up job. But this one old crone of a woman saw him ‘working.’ She stood behind this young man, arms folded and tapping her foot. At first, I was thinking maybe it was her son or someone she was shopping with, but the next thing she did proved to me I was mistaken.
She cleared her throat in that dreaded fashion we all know: ‘Ahem… Excuuuuuuuse me. You need to help me.’
The young man paid her no mind, continuing with his task. She didn’t like that. She cleared her voice and replied louder, ‘YOU ARE NOT LISTENING TO ME. YOU ARE GOING TO HELP ME NOW!!!’
Before I could walk to her and ask her what she needed, she reached out and grabbed this young man by the right arm just above his elbow. I guess the sudden action of this and the young man’s condition caused him to spin around and pulled his arm away from this lady and the sudden movement startled the old woman, causing her to step backwards and lose her balance, causing her to sit down on her butt. It was like in slow motion watching her go from standing to sitting on the ground.
By the time I reached the young man to see if he was OK, his mother had shown up and was asking what had happened. Before I could say anything, the woman who had caused this was up and berating this young man, saying he attacked her and she would have him fired and arrested. Meanwhile, this young man was almost crying and his mother was shocked.
I told the mom to take her son and calm him down, that he had done nothing wrong, and to just make sure he was OK. Crazy Old Woman didn’t like that I took his side. She began to lie and tell me she was the victim and she didn’t do anything, that the employee (young man) attacked her.
I told her, not so kindly, that the young man she forcibly grabbed did not work there and she assaulted him, that she was a liar, and I had witnessed the whole incident. By then a crowd had gathered and the crazy woman had noticed that no one was giving her looks that they believed her side of the story. She just put her head down and walked quickly out the store.
When I turned to check on the young man and his mother, she was smiling at me and thanking me for my help. She shopped there regularly and the young man liked to arrange the flowers. It’s calming to him. I expressed my regrets about the whole incident. The young man walked over to me, patted my shoulder once, and went back to the flowers. The mom informed me that was the equivalent of a high five from him.”