rSlash - r/Idontworkherelady I Forced a Karen to Dumpster Dive!

Episode Date: August 31, 2021

r/Idontworkherelady In today's episode, OP is a young man who parked in a paid lot to visit the bank. A Karen sees him and literally throws her keys at his skull and demands that he park her car for her. OP tries to explain that he doesn't work at this parking lot, but she refuses to listen to him. So, he grabs her keys, throws them in his half-finished milkshake, and then throws the milkshake in a restaurant dumpster! Enjoy dumpster diving for your keys, Karen! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Welcome to R-Slash, a podcast where I read the best posts from across Reddit. Today's subreddit is R-Slash I don't work here, lady, where OP forces a racist Karen to go dumpster diving. Our next Reddit post is from Unencumbered Nuka. Some time ago, I had a job as a runner for a sucky horror movie company. Part of my job as a runner was to go to the bank to make various deposits in withdrawals for both the company and the boss. I went to the bank almost every day, sometimes multiple times a day.

The bank was in a really upscale neighborhood, so it wasn't uncommon to see some really high end cars in the nearby lot where I parked. At this point, I had been in my job for about 3.5 years, which meant that I'd been in this lot easily about a thousand times already. I knew a lot of the workers in the area by name, including the lot workers. We talked a lot, and oftentimes I could get away with not getting my parking validated, even on days that I wasn't working. I was in my mid-twenties, and I was often in shorts, flip flops, and a merchandise shirt from my company. We didn't have uniforms, so they just gave me a ton of shirts from their movies, so I would have some kind of identifier

while I was at working. Now, I should mention that I'm Hispanic with pretty dark skin. I normally wouldn't even bother mentioning that, because who cares? Well, you know who does care? Rich entitled people. I've seen my fair share of veiled racism and typecasting over the years. And even at that parking lot, I've been asked multiple times to park other people's cars. They usually apologize and look embarrassed when I point out the guys in the polo shirts invest with the name of the lot on them, so I usually just roll my eyes and go about my day. Occasionally, I'll get someone rude who will snap their fingers at me, which I really hate, or chuck their keys at me.

I'm usually a bit more of a jerk in those situations, but nothing major. On this day, I was in a bit more of a jerk in those situations, but nothing major. On this day, I was in a fairly poor mood. My company was starting to do some shady stuff and was screwing over its employees. A lot of people hadn't been paid in weeks, and I was only getting paid half as much as I should be. So, on my way to the bank, I bought a strawberry smoothie for lunch, because I knew there was no chance that I was going to make it back to the office to eat the food that I bought. I pull into the non-veilé parking in the lot, chat with the attendant while I grab my ticket, and start walking towards the bank.

I hear someone shouting, Jose, hey Jose! But obviously I ignore it because my name's not Jose. I walk past the shouting lady when I feel something smack me in the back of my head causing my glasses to fall. I pick up my glasses and I turn around to see this red face lady glaring angrily at me. I was super pissed. I looked down to see what hit me and of course it was her car and house keys. This woman literally threw her keys at a stranger's head. She was driving some really nice escalator that looked like it was probably fully loaded and detailed regularly. I picked up her keys and said, what the f lady? She shouted back, didn't you hear me calling you, you f-ing racial slur?

It's your own fault for ignoring me. I'm late for my hair appointment, so park my god damn car. I was absolutely dumbfounded. I tried to explain to her that I didn't work there, but she wasn't having it. Every time I opened my mouth, she called me something even more demeaning and racist, questioning my intelligence and threatening to get me fired. She started walking away, so I decided screw it.

I walked to the restaurant next door and shouted, hey, b****! She turned around with steam coming out of her ears. I said to her, as calmly as I can manage, I do not work here. Then I dropped her keys into my half full smoothie and chucked it as hard as I could into the restaurant's dumpster. The look on her face when the cup exploded in pink chunks as her key dropped into a stinky dumpster was the absolute freaking best. I walked away flipping her off as she turned and ran back to the attendance. After I did my bank business, I went back to the lot and saw her shouting at the lot's security and pointing at me. The security guard, who of course I knew, asked me what happened.

I told him that she threw her keys at me, started shouting obscenities, and refused to take them back when I tried to explain that I didn't work there. Oh, and also that I threw them in my smoothie and chucked them in the trash next door. He was, he was holding back as laughter when I finished. She tried to get him to call the cops on me, but he explained to her that she willingly gave me her keys and refused to take them back. And he told her that she should have taken the extra second to listen to what I was trying to tell her. She then demanded that one of the workers go into the dumpster and fish to keys out.

But he just pointed at a sign that said the lot takes no responsibility for lost her soul and property. He then informed her that her escalated was blocking traffic in the lot, and if she didn't move it in the next 15 minutes, then he would have to call a tow truck. She did not like that, and she let him know about that through racist ranting and grand standing. He just stood there quietly the whole time and took it. When she was finally finished, he just looked down at his watch and told her, you have seven minutes ma'am.

Wouldn't you know it? She actually trouched off towards a dumpster. was finally finished. He just looked down at his watch and told her, you have seven minutes ma'am. Wouldn't you know it? She actually trutched off towards a dumpster. Me in the guard had a good laugh about it, but he told me not to do it again. As I pulled out of the lot, I got a nice view of her and the dumpster furiously throwing everything everywhere. I honked and weighed as I passed and went about my day with a huge smile on my face. The next day, one of the lock guys told me that they ended up having to tow her escalate. I guess she couldn't find her keys. Oh well, I hope her hairdresser didn't mind her smelling like garbage.

I'm not sure about the legality of this, or if I would have been in any actual trouble if the police had been called. She just caught me on a bad day. I don't feel the least bit sorry about what I did though. I guess the moral of the story is don't be racist trash, and also don't give your keys to anyone like an idiot. Opie, I have to wonder what would happen if the cops actually did show up, because the only crime that I could see here was she assaulted you, right?

I mean she threw keys at your head, and this is a parking lot that has security guards, then they probably had cameras too, so I'm sure you could prove it. Like, they can't even charge you with littering because you threw the shake and the keys in a dumpster. Anyways, OP, this story was really entertaining to read, and I'm glad that you forced her to dumpster dive because trash like her belongs in the dumpster.

Our next reddit post is from Ributron. Back in 1989, Rayn Etition was sworn in as Canada's new governor general. This was a big deal for me because I was best friends with his son, so my mom and I got invited to the inaugural gala in Ottawa. We flew down in a Gulfstream and we would be staying in Rdohal, the governor general's official residence. To properly document this important event, I borrowed my uncle's very expensive,

very impressive looking camera in lenses, and I also got a new suit. I felt pretty damn important for a shy 10th grade kid. Anyway, I was waiting in line with the rest of the plebs to be ushered in to stand at the back of the house commons when I was approached by two officers who asked me to step out of line. Of course, my immediate thought was, oh no, what did I do? They informed me that I was in the wrong line and a please go with them.

Confused, I looked around and then down at myself and saw the expensive camera dangling from my neck partially obscuring the lanyard that allowed me onto the grounds. Oh my god, they think that I'm press! I should also point out that I always looked older than my actual age back then. I glanced over to my mom, and she silently mouthed, go! And so off I went to the press gallery. The officers plot me into the cluster of photographers from the National Press, and suddenly I'm sharing the same bird's eye view as Sandy Rinaldo

and Peter Mansbridge. They're like the Barbara Walters and Tom Brokaw of Canada. I snap away happily and hobnob with members of the 5th estate for a bid and hit for the stairs to go find my mom. Once again, I'm stopped by the officers. Well the jick is up. I thought. They said, Sir, the press conferences are through the other exit behind you.

Wait, what? Once again, I'm led into another room that I have no business being in. And in the span of 20 minutes, I've met Trudeau, Moroni, Shreyton, Bouchard, Turner, Clark, and a pack of others. These names might not mean much to non-Canadians. But, trust me, these were some of the biggest, haunchiest haunchos in Canadian politics for three decades. The only people there who knew that I didn't belong were Ray himself and my province's future premiere. They did a double take when they saw me

and they thought the whole thing was hilarious. They never ratted me out. Classy guys. So there you go. I met three Canadian Prime Ministers, one former, one current, and one future all because I didn't own my own camera. Down in the comments, we had this story from the real grinning dog. My mom used to work in a quasi-government office.

There was a guy who basically had no job, but they never got rid of him. One day he brought in some photos to show his colleagues. Back in the days when the Miss World Beauty pageant was always held in London, he had pictures of himself and the newly crowned Miss World for the past 20 years. It turns out that he would just put on a tuxedo every year and just wander in. Even in later years as security tightened, he was sort of recognized as a regular so he always got in without any invitation or ticket. Our next reddit post is from the Langefin. I work for Nab recognized as a regular, so he always got in without any invitation or ticket. Our next reddit position, the Lange Finn. I work for Nabisco as a sales service rep.

I go from store to store in whatever region I'm assigned to for the day. I usually spend two to six hours in each store depending on the amount of product and the shipment. Today I was doing my normal Walmart service, and something I could never imagine happened. I'm required to wear pants and a collar shirt for my position. It's not really a big deal, except on those hot days when I leave the stores to go to my car, and it's a ripe 110 degrees. Today I was wearing khakis and a blue collar shirt. My first mistake. All Walmart employees wear blue and a crossing guard bright yellow vest.

I was doing my usual thing, throwing Oreos on shelves and making sure the Ritz crackers are all straight when a new Walmart employee came over to me. The employee said, hey, there's a mandatory meeting for us in the receiving deck. Sorry, but I don't actually work. It's mandatory. Instead of putting up a fight about it, knowing that I had to go to receiving to get more product anyway, I just went with the new dude. I got to the back and walked past a group of employees gathered around the store manager, who I've had several conversations with before. I thought, no biggie, I'll just squeak on by, grab the shipment of tips of hoi, and then leave. As I walk by the group, I hear a faint, excuse me. I turn around to see a woman I've never seen before. I guess a woman from regional doing some kind of

wellness and performance check. Can I help you? Actually, yes, you can help by joining us. Once again, not wanting to get into a confrontation, I just walked over there and tried to wait it out. The woman went on and on and never seemed to stop. I tried to sneak away, giving the store manager a little nod, and kind of confirming that I was going to leave. I stood up, and the woman had more things to say. Excuse me? Who gave you permission to leave? I don't actually work here. It's a rhetorical question. Sit down.

I decided to just walk away. After all, I didn't actually work there. I walked over to our backstop, grabbed the cookies and left. After around 45 minutes of stocking shelves, I had to go back and grab more of the items from the back stock. I went to the back room and loaded up with more product. Lo and behold, the regional lady approached me. It was extremely disrespectful to try and upstage me. What makes you think you can do something like that to a higher up? I tried to tell you, I don't work. No, no, no, you do not talk back to me, pack it up and go. I was absolutely dumbfounded, it was so cliche, like bad movie cliche, but I was gonna do what was requested. I packed up and left, leaving half a loaded boat in the back room with

me. Later, I got a call from my boss saying that Walmart called and complained because I didn't finish the case shipment. I explained the scenario and I was off the hook. I like to think the managers are now stuck with a half-stock cookies and crackers aisle and they'll have to personally stock it for not standing up for me. OP, that's a cool story and all, but if you think that Walmart managers are gonna stock the shelves themselves, then you've clearly never worked with retail managers before. Our next reddit post is from Spotlight Desire. As a couple of years ago,

I was working for a theme park as a live entertainment support tech. I'm a lighting stagehand. This particular story takes place on my second day of work after returning from a four-year hiatus. We were all working hard to get a summer show up on its feet and ready for tech in a couple of weeks. So we all took a longer lunch break than normal

at a pizza place across the street. Now, the way we dressed for this position was fairly distinctive among our staff, but I guess less so when you leave the park. We wore all black, down to socks and undershirt, hands, some stickers even in cissage wear, black underwear. Our black shirts and black hats all had the name of the theme park on them and the word entertainment in giant silver font. On top of that, we had name tags with our company logo and our tool belts on our hips. This pizza place, however, had shorter sleeve black polos for managers and t-shirts for

everyone else, which had a similar black theme, but they weren't alike at all. Anyway, sorry for the long setup, but it's important that you know just how unbelievable the situation was. So I'm making my way through the buffet, grabbing pizza and salad when I hear it. The impatient shriek at EXCUSE ME! I'm focused on my lunge because we're all still in a time crunch after all. Naturally, I assume this woman just wanted me to step aside, so I politely moved. I heard a distinct huff, then felt

a not-too-gental tap on my shoulder. I turned around, confused. Can I? Finally, I managed to grab someone's attention. All these tables are filthy, and I want you to clean one for me. I blinked for a moment, about to utter the words that you would expect me to say. I got as far as I don't. I know you're on lunch break, but you can stop your face in a while. You have a paying customer here with no place to sit. Am I supposed to eat standing like an animal? Yes, she actually said that.

I point at the logo on my work shirt, and she doesn't even look at it. But nonetheless, I say, sorry, I can't clean your table for you. There's always someone at the register, maybe they can... You're right here, right now. Why should I have to wait for someone else to do your job? At this point, I just sigh and begin to walk off when Karen shrieks, I wanna talk to your manager. As it so happens, I guess who is sitting at my table?

Suddenly, I get an idea that probably belongs on R-slash malicious compliance, and I flag my manager over. My manager approaches and says, Hey OP, what's going on? This woman said that she wanted to speak to my manager. Why would this lazy sack of garbage isn't doing her job? I want you to tell her to clean me a table, now!

Uh, OP doesn't work for this pizza place, and neither do I. What the F is wrong with people these days, no one ever gives good service anymore. My manager, seeing what I'd been putting up with, went off on Karen. My manager didn't yell and was very controlled, to the point that it was scary. I wish I could remember exactly what she said, but I'd wondered out of earshot after she told me to take my food and sit down. All I know is, Karen finally seemed to get the message, and here's the best part. I don't know exactly why, but Karen left without ever eating a single slice of pizza that

she paid for. I managed to end up giving me some cash to cover my lunch after all that mess, so thanks Karen, I guess. So on the one hand, I can kind of understand where Karen is coming from, because I feel like all black, head to toe is kind of like a very standard, normal, like just normal working person attire. You see workers wearing all black pretty much everywhere, especially restaurants. However, I feel like the tool belt with, I don't even know, drills, screwdrivers, and

hammers should have definitely tipped her off. It's like, lady, how do you think pizzas are made? That was our slash, I don't work here, lady, and if you like this content, you can sponsor my podcast to unlock extra episodes. Also, be sure to follow my podcast, because I put out new Reddit podcast episodes every single day.