Category Archives: Weird People

How weird can normal everyday people really be?

Funny Walmart Story: Customer service return.

I recently met a very old lady who is 72 and she said for 15 years she worked in the customer service department at Walmart.

She said she dealt with a lot of customer complaints. Often customers would start getting very loud and obnoxious toward her, and she would cool them off by saying things like “oh, I agree with you. If I had any idea that they made the product like this, I wouldn’t have sold it to you myself”

That would usually crack a smile with the customer, and she’d process the refund.

One day a troubled woman came into the store, and said “I have to return these bed sheets I bought. They were suppose to be for my son, and it turns out that he can’t possibly use them”

Interested, the customer service clerk said “oh dear, why, what is wrong with them?”

The troubled woman replied “My son has severe allergies to flowers”, and then she pointed at the floral pattern printed on the sheets. These could be dangerous to him.

Now, I’m not sure if:

a) This actually happened

b) If this was her interpretation, and not what was exactly said

But I will tell you that this 72 year old lady shares this story often.

Women and how they find work around the house.

 Now, as a man, if the grass is uncut, I see that as obvious, and that it needs to be cut.

If I see a tree that is growing into the power lines, it needs to be pruned.

Finally if I  see dirty dishes in the sink, I know they must be cleaned.

A woman, on a bright sunny day sipping on a drink in the back  yard will look over and say “um, hun, do you really like that large decorative rock here? Wouldn’t it look better in that corner?”  She won’t rest until you move that 200 pound rock to the other corner.

After lounging around, you both walk toward the house, and she says “you know, I think the color of that door should be changed. Why don’t we paint it X color instead of what it is now?”

“Fine, you say, we’ll do that later”

You walk into the house and she goes into the living room, sits down, and turns on the TV. “Um, hun, can you help me move that big chair over to this corner? I hate moving it when we close the drapes. Oh, and by the way, I want to change those drapes and make them into blinds instead, we should do that soon”

Women can find work in strange places, and once they think of it, it never leaves their minds until it’s done. Why worry about such silly things? But the way their minds work is much different then that of their male counterparts.

Men want simple lives, are happy with simple things, and only need to take care of obvious things that stick out.

Women love detailed lives, are not happy until every last detail is taken care of, and need to take care of every last detail to temporarily be happy. When they finally reach that utopia of being happy, they immediately think they are missing “something”, and start inventing new details, and new things that have to be taken care of…

Life is funny that way.

Highbeams and the idiots who use them.

“IF” you are on a dark country road, in the middle of no where, go ahead and use your highbeams with caution.

If you are on a highway where a car passes you every 30 seconds, TURN the friggen high beams off and leave them off! There is nothing worse than being on a dark windy mountain highway, while its raining, and  you have idiots with their highbeams stuck on who refuse to turn them off.

Maybe it makes them see where they are going, but while I’m on that 2 lane highway and totally blinded it is taking everything in my power to avoid hitting them head on.  This happens quite frequently, and I could never understand why people insist on leaving their highbeams on..

It isn’t being forgetful either. When your highbeams are on, you definately know it. Seeing a million feet infront of your car instead of the regular 150 feet is easy to spot.

I think its all chocked up to the a*hole effect. They don’t care, as long as they can see, who cares how rude it is…

Well one day they are going to blind the wrong oncoming driver, and they’ll get what they have created.

Serial Killer / Cannibal at the Grocery Store

stephenking.jpg   He looked similar to Steven King

Ok, this was a weird day. I’m at the meat counter of the grocery store, and this guy storms past me. The first person he resembled to me was Stephen King, but a bit taller and thinner, without glasses. He has such an angry crazed look on his face, I couldn’t help but stand and watch him for a second.

He is carrying a black polyester bag that is about the size of a single math text book. He pulls out two meat packages and throws them onto the meat display shelves and storms immediately away without looking back.

I’m curious, wondering what would make this guy so upset? Couldn’t he afford to buy these? What is up?

I walk over and examine the two things he left behind. They are two packages with NO price sticker on them. They look like he’s wrapped them himself. Inside is a lot of fatty tissue, almost looks human in a way.

I stare in disbelief and thoughts start going through my mind, is this some sort of serial killer or cannibal that has killed someone, and in his strange twisted way wants to display some of the meat of his victim in a grocery store?

I call the manager over, and explain what happened. He examines the meat, and says “yeah, its probably some guy that is upset on how much fat he got in his cut of meat and decided to return it to us, thanks..” and he takes them away and throws them out.

I shrug it off and continue browsing the meat shelves. Upon further inspection I see that there are 5 other packages like this, tucked inbehind some of the roasts. Those ones look to be a day or two old and not very fresh.

Is this what this guy does? Buys meat, takes it home, re-trims eat, eats it, and brings back whatever fat is left over back to the grocery store to send a “message” to the store’s butcher?

To top it all off, that special black polyester bag looks like he shopped around and bought it for this particular purpose.

Now what’s worse? This freaky guy, the sloppy butcher, me for telling you this story, or you for listening?