So I started looking for a trash can. None anywhere—by the freezer, the end caps, or even the registers. I’m just walking around with this greasy container like it’s my job to manage their garbage. If a store sells ready-to-eat food, they should have a place to throw it away.
I ended up setting it neatly on a frozen aisle shelf, closed, right next to the fries. It was perfectly contained, easy for employees to toss—literally ten seconds of work.
Then some random guy sees it and loses it, calling me “lazy” and “disrespectful.” He doesn’t work there, yet he acts like I personally ruined his life. I told him to mind his own business, but he kept cussing and pushing. So I swung. Not because of the container, but because I wasn’t going to let a stranger talk to me like that over something that isn’t his concern.
Next thing I know, management is involved, cops are called, and I’m being treated like I committed a major crime. All over a container I left on a shelf because the store couldn’t provide a single trash can. Somehow I’m the problem, not the lack of trash cans or the guy who escalated it. I still don’t see how I was in the wrong.
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