Some Jobs Just Aren’t Worth It

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“I was working the graveyard shift at a gas station. It was near the end of the night, so I was looking at the lotto tickets and counting tickets for my shift sheet. Some guy walked in and right up to the counter.
I didn’t have time to even look up. He put the barrel right on my forehead. He told me to empty the till into a bag. Calmly, I told him every move I was making so he didn’t freak out.
When he realized it was only about $30 in cash, he told me to grab three cartons of smokes. After that, he told me he was going to go grab a gallon of milk, and if I looked up at him, he would kill me.
I laid my hands on the counter and stared at my shoes. He grabbed the milk, the smokes, and the cash before telling me to turn on the gas pump. That’s right. He needed to fuel up AFTER he robbed the store.
As soon as he was pumping the gas and looking away I hit the emergency rescue button under the counter. I then jumped over the counter and locked the doors and hid.
I didn’t look up until I could see the flashing blue and red lights outside. What I thought was an hour was only a few minutes. The guy didn’t even finish filling his tank before the cops showed up.
The worst part was after I unlocked the door and let the police into the store. I hadn’t said a word until an officer asked how I was doing and if I was injured at all. I looked up and attempted to talk but instead just threw up all over myself and the poor officer.
I quit that job.”
“Yo, I Got A Family, Take Whatever You Want!”

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“I was in southwest Houston shooting a music video in the hood. The scene was in the driveway. A few guys from the crew and I were wrapping up cables as we had just finished the scene.
I had been working on these videos since ‘Still Tippin’ in the mid-2000s with Mike Jones and this was weeks after a shooting in Port Arthur. I’m always strapped.
As soon as they cut the generator and the main light went out BAM BAM BAM BAM. We heard shooting from the driveway. We ran away down the side alley and just as we turned the corner two dudes raised weapons at us and said to give them all our stuff.
I looked away and down and presented my hands and said, ‘Yo, I got a family man, take whatever you want.’ I was sure not to look them in the face and they took our phones, wallet and ran off.
The main rapper was shot several times and left for dead. He was paralyzed. They probably made off with $15,000 in cash and jewelry.
The director ran about a mile away. No one else was hurt. We suspect they zeroed in on us based off of Instagram posts or a neighbor called them.
We usually hired a few trill gladiators or had a hood pass but not that time (a hood pass is when you know someone that authorized you to be in an area controlled by their gang or affiliates – not only would we have a blessing, but we would have protection. Trill gladiators are a street military group in that region we can hire for money. Die hard remnants of UGK underground kings.)
I would imagine a lot of people died over that robbery with retribution from the rapper.
I didn’t say anything to the police and I made sure people saw that I wasn’t cooperating with the investigation.
That the last video I did in the hood without demanding police presence.
I’ve been witness to several shootings and exchanged fire one time, but this was the most frightened I had ever been for my life. It goes to show even if you are strapped, it doesn’t mean anything really.
If I would have pulled, I would probably be dead.”
Dumb Luck

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“I was working as a barback and living in a row house in a major US city. I had just gotten home from a 15-hour shift with $100 in my pocket to show for it. Because of the late hour, street parking was filled up, but there was a small parking lot behind my place that usually had spots. We had a back door that faced the lot, but kept the door chained so I had to take the long way. I was cutting through the alley when two guys entered from the other side, walking directly towards me. I casually crossed to the other side of the alley, by I already knew I was in trouble. As I passed them I noticed one had a bandana over his face, but they only made a minor effort to delay me in the dark alley with small talk. I kept on walking to the streetlight on the corner, and as soon as I turned into the street I heard the two guys running towards me. I thought they were going to jump me, so I stopped right around the corner and figured I’d at least go down swinging.
They rounded the corner and froze as I brought my fists up, and then the masked guy pulled out a weapon. In the light, I could tell they were teenagers. The kid yelled for my wallet and I started to reach for it and attempted to say something. I don’t even know what I was going to say, but the words caught in my throat anyway. Then he yelled to get on the ground in a way that sounded more like a movie quote than a command. It didn’t really matter what he told me to do because I was frozen with my hand at my side, halfway between my wallet and my pocketknife. I couldn’t stop staring down the barrel.
Now, I grew up around these types of weapons. My dad was a former marine, and he taught me to shoot at a young age. I’m an owner myself, and I’ve seen and handled a lot of different styles over the years. This guy was pointing a Glock at me, but by the barrel size, it had to be a .22. In the situation I was in, this should have been the last thing on my mind, but I had so much adrenaline pumping through me everything felt like slow motion. I’m still frozen there like a statue, and that’s when the other guy said, ‘give me the glock, I’ll shoot him.’
He grabs it from his buddy and levels it at my face. My dumbbutt is still just standing there wondering why this escalated from a robbery to a murder instead of doing literally anything. That’s when he pulls the trigger.
There’s a click, and nothing else. With the trigger pull I’m finally shaken out of my statuesque state and I lunge at the kid. He and his buddy turn tail and run out of there, and I turn around and walk the 20 feet to my front door. As soon as I’m inside my house I break down because I’m not a tough guy, I’m an over analytical idiot who froze up and got lucky. If it ever happens again, I’ll toss my wallet and run in a heartbeat.”
All Of That For $6?

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“I worked part-time at an ‘adult store’ for a couple years for some extra income. It was 10:30 p.m. on a slow Tuesday night and I was wiping down the counter when two guys barged in wearing hoodies, bandanas around their faces, waving weapons around.
I’m not going to lie, I just froze up. I went blank. I stood there and stared at them and they repeated the demand to open the register, then when I wasn’t moving fast enough, one of them LEAPT over the four-foot-high counter like a spider-monkey.
I opened the drawer, put up my hands, and backed away. They took the money out of the drawer, then made me go out from behind the counter and get on my knees with my hands behind my head. This was the first time I started actually panicking, because now I had this mental image of getting shot execution-style over adult toy money, of all things. Turns out, they actually wanted me to get on my knees and then lay down on the floor so I couldn’t watch while they ran out of the store and made their getaway.
I waited about two minutes, got up, and alerted the police by using the panic button under the counter because they had ripped the phone out of the wall.
The worst part of the whole scenario? The jerks took my purse and phone from the counter. This was a huge pain in the rear. The next day, I had to cancel my bank cards, order new insurance cards, get a new phone, get a new driver’s license, get copies of every single key for my job, house, and car. I couldn’t even get into my house that night, I had to break in through the back door.
The real kicker? I never, ever carry any cash and I had a whopping $6 on my bank card, so they didn’t even get anything worthwhile. Hope you enjoyed the floral, Vera Bradley-knockoff, you jerks.”
When The Tables Turn

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“A guy held me up and wanted my wallet, phone, and the pizza I was delivering.
What was the outcome? Well, the guy who was waiting for the pizza came out from behind with a weapon and robbed my robber for his sidearm, wallet, and a watch.
After everything was said and done, my customer turned to me and said, ‘Sorry about that. It happens a lot around here.’
He gave me the robber’s cash for a tip, which ended up being like $300. So that was nice.
I also quit that day.”
Unhinged

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“I was on my first job at a restaurant and was taking the trash out. Since we had already closed, I was enjoying a cold one. As I was walking towards the bins, I saw a guy with fresh bloody scrapes on his face, not bad but looked like he had been in a fight. I dropped the bags in the bin and turned back but he wanted to talk with me. He was between me and the door, so I had no choice but to engage in small talk.
I was right, he had been in a fight in the local pub just around the corner which is the thing he wanted to talk about. Something about a woman and even during his explanation he revealed to be somewhat deserving of a bit of a beat down (I can’t remember what it was but something about being a prick to his ex and the new guy stopping that). He kept talking about revenge. I was trying to disengage when he suddenly just said ‘do you want to die’ and showed a handle of glock tucked in his pants.
I’m from Finland so seeing this is rare, hardly even one carries in the open. I had no idea if it is real or not, all I knew was that there is a wasted, beaten up guy planning a vengeance with a weapon and he had asked me a question.
I said, ‘Nah, not really. Here, wanna have a cold one instead?’ He tucked away his weapon and took the bottle. I said farewell with a smile and laugh, said something like ‘take it easy man, I have to go back inside, I think it is the better choice for you too,’ turned my back and walked back trying to look as relaxed and worry-free as I could.
The cold one I drank pretty much in two gulps back inside was one the best brews I’ve ever had.”
The Worst Night Of Her Life

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“I worked at a ‘karaoke bar’ that was more or less a place where men would rent female employees to sit around in their room and drink with them for $120 an hour per girl. I believe we made $30 an hour. You choose your own schedule. It was basically like being paid to party – I could wake up whenever, go to school, and go out and drink for money with a bunch of rich guys and cool female coworkers and make my rent in a few days.
This night was a usual Saturday. A crowd of 10 men arrived, they ordered every girl who was present. My favorite guy was there, Chi. He would do insane amounts of coke and then vent to me about the stress of being a business owner and whatever various other rich guy lamentations about his awful rich guy life that crossed his mind, but I kind of enjoyed his stories. He also seemed to enjoy being able to just vent. But this night, he was quiet. I’d never been around Chi without him talking my ear off. I felt weird.
By 3 am, we all got up to leave, everyone was putting their winter coats on. I went back into the karaoke room to get my bag, and returning to the main hall I heard yelling. I saw the girl, a friend since my teens who was now my coworker, tell a man ‘I’m going to call my friends and have them shoot you.’ The man grabbed her head like a grapefruit and slammed it onto the stone countertop. Another man was arguing with our male boss during all of this. I asked them what was wrong. My boss ran down the hall. The man told me that the tab was too expensive (I think it was over $5,000 if I remember correctly) and they’re going to shoot us rather than pay it. I remember distinctly him saying ‘well take your heads, your ID, we’ll cut your fingers off so they can’t I.D. you.’
I don’t know what came over me looking down the barrel, but I started uh… insulting his gender identity. Like, telling him shooting women was gay. I don’t know why that was my response, but for some reason, it resonated with him because he lowered the weapon and told me ‘I’m going to come back with my boys’ and left. My boss returned and I roughhoused him and demanded my money up front. He said, ‘money is no problem, I don’t care about the money,’ slapping bills into my hand.
After this, I walked halfway home wailing loudly until a very kind taxi driver named Michael stopped and drove me home, no charge. This is the part that for some reason still chokes me up. Every time we stopped at a light he’d try so hard to talk me down and tell me everything was ok, that I was safe. He made sure my roommate was waiting for me when we arrived. I contacted the taxi company but I don’t know if they ever found him. Worst night.”
He Changed His Sales Approach After This Incident

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“I used to sell pot in high school, and I wasn’t particularly careful about it.
I was having a slow week in sales, and it was during a summer break. I needed to move some product, so I was literally driving around town, asking anyone who remotely looked like they might be interested. I drove by a Nations hamburger joint and saw two ‘gangster’ types eating outside. I asked them if they wanted to buy some weed, and they took my number and told me they wanted to meet up later. They said they wanted to buy around $150 worth, so I was stoked.
That afternoon I got a call from them, and they asked me to meet them at a local park. I met up with them and one guy got in my little truck, while the other waited nearby. He looked at the bag, and then just got out of the truck and tried to walk away. I got out to go after him and that’s when the other guy pulled a weapon out of his pants and aimed it at me. It wasn’t that big, but I didn’t want to assume that it wasn’t deadly. They tell me to get on the ground, and they took my wallet and cell phone before running off.
I jammed back to my girlfriend’s house and told her what happened and I called the police. In my infinite wisdom, I withheld the part about selling weed and told them I was robbed randomly while skating at the park. An officer came by and took down descriptions of the suspects. Within minutes, the pair had already been using my debit card at a gas station, then tried to spend a bunch of money at a shoe store, but the shoe transaction was denied because I was a broke teenager.
Fast forward a couple days, and I was at work at my summer office job. I got a call from a detective who wanted to show me a photo lineup. I meet the detective in the parking lot to look at the photos, and sure enough, the guys were in the lineup. I pointed them out.
Another few days went by, and I got a call from the detective. They had actually found the guys, who immediately confessed and spilled the beans that I was there to sell them weed. The detective was mad at me for lying but said that I would not face charges. They reasoned that they needed my testimony to pin these guys for armed robbery and that my weed charge was small fry in comparison.
So the guys (they were also juveniles) went to trial and end up getting convicted. They paid restitution to cover the cost of replacing my cell phone, as well as my ID and Social Security card and wallet. That was pretty much the end of it.
After that, I stopped selling weed to strangers I met on the street.”
It Still Hurts After All These Years

“I wasn’t working, but I was in New York City for Halloween in 2009 when my friend and I were mugged. The guy demanded everything we had. I handed over all my crap: phone, wallet, keys. My friend refused. The guy shot him in between the eyes. I watched my friend die that night.
I remember the blood hitting my face and feeling numb and then looking on the ground and seeing my dead friend. My instinct was to try and run after them but they were gone. It was late and no one was around. I went to a pay phone and called the cops. The cops came and put me in cuffs while the ambulance took my friend away. I was brought to the police station and questioned before finally being released and driven home by an officer.
His mother and I became very close after he died and we helped each other through it. She was a single mom and he was an only child. She and I were each other’s support system for years before she moved out of New York. I still speak to her twice a year – his birthday and the anniversary of his death. I’m doing well now, it changed me and forced me to grow up very quickly. I don’t take anything for granted anymore and I was more humbled than anything. I was 18 when he died. It’s gotten easier to manage and deal with, but I think about it every day, and it hurts.”
Young Punks

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“I was working at a coffee shop and our tip jar kept getting stolen from the drive-thru. It made me really mad because we weren’t making that much money hourly so any little bit on top of that was really appreciated.
I was the supervisor for the shift and I saw a girl sneaking toward the tip jar and knew exactly what was going to happen. She saw me notice her then ran and grabbed it and ran off. I ran out the front door chasing her and when she saw that I was going to catch her she threw the tip jar down in the parking lot and hopped in a car with several other young kids that were obviously waiting on her.
I started yelling at them saying I was going to call 911 and that I had their license plate and a kid pulled out a weapon and stuck it out the back window at me… I didn’t even really have time to process it, I just put my hands up and backed off and they drove away.
I went back and collected the $1.37 they almost made off with from the parking lot.”
Just Trying To Get Home

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“This happened about two years ago. I was biking back home from a night at work – I live in a huge city, so this is not strange. I had to take a bridge which I had done many times before. There are always people around. When entering the bridge, there’s a slight incline so you naturally are going a bit slower. There was a skinny guy walking in the middle of the path. I said, ‘on your left’ so he would step aside. However, he grabbed me and we struggled and my bike and I fell over.
I’m not a big person and neither was the guy, so we struggled together. He finally shoved a weapon in my face, I don’t know if it’s real or not, I’ve never seen one so up close and personal. He told me he was taking my bike. I was strapped for cash at the time. He pointed the weapon at me again and told me to give him my bag. I took out my id before giving it to him. Then he hit me in the face with his piece and rode off. It didn’t really hurt. I ended up flagging down the next biker, who was 30 seconds away and called 911. It was bad timing.
A few weeks later, I actually found my bike and was able to get it back. The police were generally not supportive and hinted that I was lucky I didn’t get killed.”
Thank God For The Glass

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“The bank that I worked at was robbed, and the guy was armed. We had bullet-resistant glass separating us but he still shot at us all several times.
The worst part is, we gave him the money.
He was too doped out and didn’t notice it/thought it was fake and got more agitated no matter what we did. He was threatening to shoot customers and we just didn’t know what to do. He finally ran out about one minute before the police showed up.
We think he must have had an accomplice by the station to let him know. No one was injured but a customer with a heart condition was taken to the hospital as a precaution. Most of the tellers left banking afterwards, myself included.”
That’s Some Kind Of Defense Mechanism

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“I handled being robbed like a complete fool when I was working overnights at a gas station.
It was 3 am one December night when some guy came up to the locked doors on the one side of the building and tried to get in. I was standing right next to them making coffee for the next morning.
I noticed he was wearing a mask on his face and I think oh man it’s cold outside but not that cold, weird.
I turned and pointed to the unlocked doors on the other side of the building and yelled at him to go around. Then he pointed at me. I was like, ‘What’s the deal, man? Go around!’
Well, he didn’t listen and decided to walk away. At this point, I was beginning to think that that whole thing was odd. I checked the cameras, and sure enough, the guy was pointing a weapon at me five feet away through the glass right at my face, and I told him to go around!
He ended up going down the street three miles and robbed a different gas station. I felt pretty sick after realizing how close I came to possibly being injured, or worse.”
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