NationStates Jolt Archive

I work at a grocery store as a bagger. It's comfortable work, good hours, good pay for a guy my age, and pretty informal. Anyway, I was working the night shift, and that's when things got kinda...wierd.

A well built man in a tank-top and jeans camp up with a 200 order, which really isn't out of the ordinary for weekly food shopping. What was out of the ordinary was the woman behind him. She had maybe two items with her, and was constantly flirting with the man ahead of her. The man tried to tell her off politely, saying that there was an express line, but she wouldn't hear it. My cashier (who will from this point be known as Nos-Esco) and I exchanged weird looks but carried on. Then, the wierd thing happened.

The woman asked the man if she could come home with him. Apparently she was married to a rich guy from a few towns over, but only was in it for the money. She didn't want to go home to him, and offered to cook dinner for the guy if she could stay with him. The guy had a look on his face like "Oh, yeah" and agreed.

Then the woman paid for the guy's groceries and her own items in CASH. Her wallet was bursting, must've been 5000 dollars in Benjamins. She said she just needed to tell her driver that she wasn't going home with him, and the couple left. I watched them leave, and sure enough there was an expensive looking car in the parking lot with a guy inside.

Then it got a little bit weirder. The next group in line was a mother and her son. The first thing the son says is "You guys git allota rich folks around here?" in a VERY Southern accent.

WHA?

When the kid saw Nos-Esco's and my expression he explained. "Well ya'll are dressed so fancy I figured this place was rich."

Was the kid the woman's bodygaurd or something? Was he hired by the husband to make sure that she didn't start sleeping around again?

As soon as the second group left, Nos-Esco started flipping out. I took me a second but then it hit my like a ton of bricks.

This had all the makings of one of those murder mystery movies, where the woman picks up the man, he ends up dead, takes all his cash. It could've also been the other way around. And what about the husband? Is he the wrathful kind that would kill the man for touching his woman, and kill everyone else involved? Swear to god, we were expecting at some point later in the evening to either be questioned by the police or shot.

Or worse...we could've been extras in a porno! Or it was one of those reality shows where they see if we can see past the bullshit.

Needless to say, Nos-Esco and I were all at once scared/intrigued/giddy and were laughing our asses off for the rest of the night.

Comments?

WTF? indeed.
Did you check for hidden cameras in the pot plant?

Good, funny, weird story :D Nightshifts are usually when all the really creepy people show up (having worked as a paramedic I know what I'm talking about).

If she was throwing around with her money, I wonder why she didn't tip you guys with a big green one to make your day? After all, you might even have volunteered to carry their shit to the cars :D (Yeah, I know, and then end up mutulated in the trunk or something, or, as you said, as a stand-in in some weird flic...)

Or maybe they were married and doing a bit of 'role playing' to rekindle their loveless marriage!

Good, funny, weird story :D Nightshifts are usually when all the really creepy people show up (having worked as a paramedic I know what I'm talking about).

If she was throwing around with her money, I wonder why she didn't tip you guys with a big green one to make your day? After all, you might even have volunteered to carry their shit to the cars :D (Yeah, I know, and then end up mutulated in the trunk or something, or, as you said, as a stand-in in some weird flic...)

That's actually what pissed Nos-Esco off. She paid $210 for a $204 order, and she switched from "keep the change" to "wait, I want the change back".

Biatch!

I'll say this:

What.

The.

Fuck.

I work at a grocery store as a bagger. It's comfortable work, good hours, good pay for a guy my age, and pretty informal. Anyway, I was working the night shift, and that's when things got kinda...wierd.

A well built man in a tank-top and jeans camp up with a 200 order, which really isn't out of the ordinary for weekly food shopping. What was out of the ordinary was the woman behind him. She had maybe two items with her, and was constantly flirting with the man ahead of her. The man tried to tell her off politely, saying that there was an express line, but she wouldn't hear it. My cashier (who will from this point be known as Nos-Esco) and I exchanged weird looks but carried on. Then, the wierd thing happened.

The woman asked the man if she could come home with him. Apparently she was married to a rich guy from a few towns over, but only was in it for the money. She didn't want to go home to him, and offered to cook dinner for the guy if she could stay with him. The guy had a look on his face like "Oh, yeah" and agreed.

Then the woman paid for the guy's groceries and her own items in CASH. Her wallet was bursting, must've been 5000 dollars in Benjamins. She said she just needed to tell her driver that she wasn't going home with him, and the couple left. I watched them leave, and sure enough there was an expensive looking car in the parking lot with a guy inside.

Then it got a little bit weirder. The next group in line was a mother and her son. The first thing the son says is "You guys git allota rich folks around here?" in a VERY Southern accent.

WHA?

When the kid saw Nos-Esco's and my expression he explained. "Well ya'll are dressed so fancy I figured this place was rich."

Was the kid the woman's bodygaurd or something? Was he hired by the husband to make sure that she didn't start sleeping around again?

As soon as the second group left, Nos-Esco started flipping out. I took me a second but then it hit my like a ton of bricks.

This had all the makings of one of those murder mystery movies, where the woman picks up the man, he ends up dead, takes all his cash. It could've also been the other way around. And what about the husband? Is he the wrathful kind that would kill the man for touching his woman, and kill everyone else involved? Swear to god, we were expecting at some point later in the evening to either be questioned by the police or shot.

Or worse...we could've been extras in a porno! Or it was one of those reality shows where they see if we can see past the bullshit.

Needless to say, Nos-Esco and I were all at once scared/intrigued/giddy and were laughing our asses off for the rest of the night.

Comments?
You must live in California. :rolleyes:

You must live in California. :rolleyes:

Nope, New England. And trust me, there are plenty of wackos in this part of the US.

We have a transvestite prostitute (from the looks of the way s/he is dressed) that turns up outside my work late on sunday nights, dances around a bit, lifts up her skirt to show her ass, then gets in her car and drives away. It's happened most sundays for about a month and a half, and she appears occasionally on other nights. The police came in and questioned us about it the first time she showed up (someone else called) but nothing has happened since.

The pizza shop I work at is out in the suburbs on a street that is usually deserted that late at night. She's never come in the shop or anything. Its a strange one.

We have a transvestite prostitute (from the looks of the way s/he is dressed) that turns up outside my work late on sunday nights, dances around a bit, lifts up her skirt to show her ass, then gets in her car and drives away. It's happened most sundays for about a month and a half, and she appears occasionally on other nights. The police came in and questioned us about it the first time she showed up (someone else called) but nothing has happened since.

The pizza shop I work at is out in the suburbs on a street that is usually deserted that late at night. She's never come in the shop or anything. Its a strange one.

And I thought I had it bad... :p

OK, I've finally figured out Dishonorable Scum's Rule #2. (Rule #1, for those of you with signatures turned off, is "People are stupid.")

Rule #2: People are weird.

:p

Nope, New England. And trust me, there are plenty of wackos in this part of the US.
Sigh! I know it takes all kinds to make a world, but sometimes I think they got the proportions all wrong! :headbang:

Sigh! I know it takes all kinds to make a world, but sometimes I think they got the proportions all wrong! :headbang:

A while ago I proposed that we move all the wackos and annoying people to Uranus. Shall I implement that plan?

A while ago I proposed that we move all the wackos and annoying people to Uranus. Shall I implement that plan?

Then what would happen to this forum? Not too many high-speed internet connections on Uranus. :p

Then what would happen to this forum? Not too many high-speed internet connections on Uranus. :p
What? You worried about being deported to Uranus? :D

Well, since the rest of the forum would be on Uranus also, I guess we could just set up a forum there... :p

I worked at a grain elevator in a small town in Southern Illinois. We were located along a set of train tracks, and a road that was the only road to cross those tracks for a few miles in either direction. So all of the traffic (if you want to call it that) that came from or went to north of town bottlenecked at our elevator.

Now, our town was very poor to begin with, but the northern end of town was especially poor, so we had some interesting people crossing the tracks next to the elevator.

One of the more notable individuals was a woman we called Weezy. Her name was Louise, but she was pretty much universally called Weezy. She was early 50's in appearance, apparantly never showered, and had a hideous, scratchy voice, roughed up from years of smoking. Daily, from April until harvest came in September she would ride her bicycle up and down the main street of my small town for most of the day. Very often, when she spotted one of us working outside, she would ride up and proposition us for sex. Her favorite phrase was "Would you like to please Louise?", and at one point stated that she couldn't, to paraphrase, feel vaginal sex anymore, and therefore only participated in anal sex. Never once did any of us accept her proposition, never once was she deterred.

Also of note was Carl Lewis. He was a large, middle-aged, retarded man who rode his lawn tractor about town. He was known to be extremely strong, he had once got his tractor stuck in a ditch and managed to lift and carry it out on his own, but was apparently not inclined to use his strength on people, so he was relatively safe.
One day, in mid-summer, he rode his lawn tractor across the train tracks again, but this time he was towing something. Behind his tractor was a trailer, and in the trailer, in a white lawn chair, sat an old man who was enjoying his own parade. This spectacle road by our elevator and into town, about thirty minutes later, it went past again going in the opposite direction. This parade occured again every afternoon that week, and on random occasion all summer long.

One of the more notable individuals was a woman we called Weezy. Her name was Louise, but she was pretty much universally called Weezy. She was early 50's in appearance, apparantly never showered, and had a hideous, scratchy voice, roughed up from years of smoking. Daily, from April until harvest came in September she would ride her bicycle up and down the main street of my small town for most of the day. Very often, when she spotted one of us working outside, she would ride up and proposition us for sex. Her favorite phrase was "Would you like to please Louise?", and at one point stated that she couldn't, to paraphrase, feel vaginal sex anymore, and therefore only participated in anal sex. Never once did any of us accept her proposition, never once was she deterred.

Also of note was Carl Lewis. He was a large, middle-aged, retarded man who rode his lawn tractor about town. He was known to be extremely strong, he had once got his tractor stuck in a ditch and managed to lift and carry it out on his own, but was apparently not inclined to use his strength on people, so he was relatively safe.
One day, in mid-summer, he rode his lawn tractor across the train tracks again, but this time he was towing something. Behind his tractor was a trailer, and in the trailer, in a white lawn chair, sat an old man who was enjoying his own parade. This spectacle road by our elevator and into town, about thirty minutes later, it went past again going in the opposite direction. This parade occured again every afternoon that week, and on random occasion all summer long.

Small town life, huh? Don'tcha love it?

Small town life, huh? Don'tcha love it?

Incredibly interesting and incredibly boring at the exact same time.

A while ago I proposed that we move all the wackos and annoying people to Uranus. Shall I implement that plan?

I guess that would leave some countries quite empty ... :p

I worked at a grain elevator in a small town in Southern Illinois. We were located along a set of train tracks, and a road that was the only road to cross those tracks for a few miles in either direction. So all of the traffic (if you want to call it that) that came from or went to north of town bottlenecked at our elevator.

Now, our town was very poor to begin with, but the northern end of town was especially poor, so we had some interesting people crossing the tracks next to the elevator.

One of the more notable individuals was a woman we called Weezy. Her name was Louise, but she was pretty much universally called Weezy. She was early 50's in appearance, apparantly never showered, and had a hideous, scratchy voice, roughed up from years of smoking. Daily, from April until harvest came in September she would ride her bicycle up and down the main street of my small town for most of the day. Very often, when she spotted one of us working outside, she would ride up and proposition us for sex. Her favorite phrase was "Would you like to please Louise?", and at one point stated that she couldn't, to paraphrase, feel vaginal sex anymore, and therefore only participated in anal sex. Never once did any of us accept her proposition, never once was she deterred.

Also of note was Carl Lewis. He was a large, middle-aged, retarded man who rode his lawn tractor about town. He was known to be extremely strong, he had once got his tractor stuck in a ditch and managed to lift and carry it out on his own, but was apparently not inclined to use his strength on people, so he was relatively safe.
One day, in mid-summer, he rode his lawn tractor across the train tracks again, but this time he was towing something. Behind his tractor was a trailer, and in the trailer, in a white lawn chair, sat an old man who was enjoying his own parade. This spectacle road by our elevator and into town, about thirty minutes later, it went past again going in the opposite direction. This parade occured again every afternoon that week, and on random occasion all summer long.


Sounds like two small town characters from a Steven King story-right before things get wierd.

I lived in a small town for a while. We had one guy dubbed "Noah" because he was building an Ark from scrap wood he collected from the roads.
We had another guy dubbed "Greeny" as he wandered around town for years dressed in the same tattered green sweater.
We had another guy that just walked all day, pushing a shopping cart and was often seen in neighboring towns 10 miles away or more. He would often collect mail shortly after the postal carrier delivered it.

These people were often the subject of taunts and ridicule and I had intervened on more than one occasion to stop it. I also learned that at least two of these guys were WWII Veterans. None of them were panhandling or begging, just living lives in a very different way.

Sounds like two small town characters from a Steven King story-right before things get wierd.

Yeah, my town would have been perfect for some Steven King struggle between good and evil.

I lived in a small town for a while. We had one guy dubbed "Noah" because he was building an Ark from scrap wood he collected from the roads.

That is classic, did he make it far on his ark?

These people were often the subject of taunts and ridicule and I had intervened on more than one occasion to stop it. I also learned that at least two of these guys were WWII Veterans. None of them were panhandling or begging, just living lives in a very different way.

Definitely. One thing that I learned growing up in Bridgeport, IL, is that poverty and boredom can make people do some unusual things. But those that resort to doing unusual things are quite often the nicest people you will meet.

I grew up in a small development, but part of a city, anyway these people had a garbage bag covering their door. As the neighborhood kids we made up stories of why for years they left their door covered including one story of it being hacked by a deranged man with an axe. Well now that I'm older I often wonder why the hell was their door covered with the garbage bag? It's still there and has been for like 15+ years...Any other ideas?

I grew up in a small development, but part of a city, anyway these people had a garbage bag covering their door. As the neighborhood kids we made up stories of why for years they left their door covered including one story of it being hacked by a deranged man with an axe. Well now that I'm older I often wonder why the hell was their door covered with the garbage bag? It's still there and has been for like 15+ years...Any other ideas?

It's where they keep the bodies.

That is classic, did he make it far on his ark?





No- the town was around a large freshwater lake in between two mountains. He lived in amongst summer bungalows partway up one of the mountains. He was ready for the lake to float his ark away in the event of flooding. It was probably around 25 or 30 feet long, but didnt look as if it would actually float-it was very,very rough made mainly of mismatched scraps.
I havent been there in a while, but have to imagine he is deceased and his property is likely now developed with the housing boom of the last few years.

I grew up in a small development, but part of a city, anyway these people had a garbage bag covering their door. As the neighborhood kids we made up stories of why for years they left their door covered including one story of it being hacked by a deranged man with an axe. Well now that I'm older I often wonder why the hell was their door covered with the garbage bag? It's still there and has been for like 15+ years...Any other ideas?

Obviously to ward off demons. It's a well-known fact that demons are terrified of plastic; it's too unnatural for them. So any demon thinking of invading the house would see the plastic bag and think, "These are not people I want to mess with. Let's try the neighbors instead."

:p

You must live in California. :rolleyes:

Don't you usually hate it when people bash the place you live? Like the USA.

Well, Californians don't appreciate it either. Especially when your entire post had no point but to make fun of Californians in the horribly cliched way for no goddam reason.

Don't you usually hate it when people bash the place you live? Like the USA.

Well, Californians don't appreciate it either. Especially when your entire post had no point but to make fun of Californians in the horribly cliched way for no goddam reason.

Well, I'm Californian and I think that our reputation for colorful characters is well deserved.

And by the way, most of you can't seem to spell "weird". <--this is the proper spelling :)

Anyway, in reference to the original post, I wonder if that was staged? My wife and I like to mess with people in that way all the time. We'll pretend to pick each other up in weird ways under seemingly bizarre circumstances just to entertain ourselves and our unsuspecting observers.

One of my favorite tricks that you kids can try at home is this: ride an elevator with a friend. Get on when it's just the two of you. When it gets to a floor where someone else gets on, start talking like you're already in the middle of a conversation. "...so Kimberly runs into the hallway half naked and screaming 'they shot John! they shot John!', and I was thinking 'oh crap, Mike was serious!', but before I could even react, there was this huge explosion, and everyone comes running out of the room with money just flying everywhere..." or something to that effect. Then you get off the elevator.

And by the way, most of you can't seem to spell "weird". <--this is the proper spelling :)



I'm guilty here, but mine is more from typing with two fingers and not always proof reading before I hit "submit".

Well, I'm Californian and I think that our reputation for colorful characters is well deserved.

And by the way, most of you can't seem to spell "weird". <--this is the proper spelling :)

Anyway, in reference to the original post, I wonder if that was staged? My wife and I like to mess with people in that way all the time. We'll pretend to pick each other up in weird ways under seemingly bizarre circumstances just to entertain ourselves and our unsuspecting observers.

One of my favorite tricks that you kids can try at home is this: ride an elevator with a friend. Get on when it's just the two of you. When it gets to a floor where someone else gets on, start talking like you're already in the middle of a conversation. "...so Kimberly runs into the hallway half naked and screaming 'they shot John! they shot John!', and I was thinking 'oh crap, Mike was serious!', but before I could even react, there was this huge explosion, and everyone comes running out of the room with money just flying everywhere..." or something to that effect. Then you get off the elevator.

We checked around for hidden cameras and such just to make sure we weren't being taped.

But I wonder what the manager is gonna be thinking once he checks out the security tapes.

"Dude, WTF?"

...

What the hell....?

That is weird, too weird to read while sobre!

Is a "bagger" what it sounds like, someone who puts things into bags? :confused:

Is a "bagger" what it sounds like, someone who puts things into bags? :confused:
;) Yes it does...

Is a "bagger" what it sounds like, someone who puts things into bags? :confused:

:headbang:

I take the customer's groceries and put them into bags. Get your mind out of the gutter, and yes I know you like it there!

:headbang:

I take the customer's groceries and put them into bags. Get your mind out of the gutter, and yes I know you like it there!

What gutter? We don't have "baggers" here, at least none that I've seen.

What gutter? We don't have "baggers" here, at least none that I've seen.

I appologize. Many times I've seen "bagger" used as an innuendo. Don't ask.

Well, I'm Californian and I think that our reputation for colorful characters is well deserved.


Yes, but any place has colorful characters. And this reputation is for "fruits and nuts," which IMO applies to a LOT more states than just California.

Or maybe they were married and doing a bit of 'role playing' to rekindle their loveless marriage!
Damn you to hell!! That makes sense and ruins the mystery. Whilst still being funny enough to make us forgive you!