A typical day at TBS deals with lots of empty returns. This means handling people's lovely unfinished beers, cigarette-butt filled bilge cans, and graciously bottled vomit.
We have people with nice sorted empties, don't get me wrong, but then we have people like this...
It was a nice sunny day, a Wednesday perhaps, about a year ago. I had just opened the store and was working alone. I always appreciate lovely alcoholics coming in at 9:30am bringing back their empties they downed the night prior.
A man came in with a few 6-packs of Vex (sugary bitch drinks for those of you who don't know), which I began carrying to the back in preparation for their eventual smashing. Suddenly however; I felt a sharp pain in my middle finger and dropped the case on the floor. At first I thought it was broken glass that cut me, but as I went to pick it up I noticed about 4 wasps emerge from the case. I managed to stomp a couple right away but the rest flew off. My finger already had begun to swell by this time, but I proceeded to cash out the customer. He didn't apologize, in fact, he hardly reacted to the incident altogether. After I hunted down the rest of the fucking wasps and smashed that case to shit, I discovered a few honey combs in the case. That asshole brought in a fucking wasp nest, which fucking stung me multiple times and he didn't seem to think that was worth - you know, saying "sorry", or "oops", or "I'm a fucking dipshit".
Morale of the story, check and sort your god damn empties for FUCKING HIVES -
- And other creatures, but that's a different story.
