Oh, you’ve got to hear this story about Jenny—wherever she went, she turned heads. Dressed in the most outrageous outfits, this thirty-year-old, plump, ginger-haired cashier had the whole supermarket staff quietly cracking up. And she had the biggest sweet tooth—right there by the till, there was always a little bag of sweets.
Her love for chunky jewellery and loud clothes totally overruled any common sense. Customers would freeze, staring at this woman perched behind the till, her bright red hair piled high with bows, clips, and ribbons. Jenny’s outfits were something else—wildly patterned blouses, scarves, rings on every finger. It was like Christmas had thrown up on her!
But the best thing about her? She never took offence. No matter how much people teased her or begged her to dress more sensibly and lay off the sweets, she’d just laugh, wave a hand covered in chunky rings, and pop another sweet in her mouth.
Now, Jenny was brilliant at her job—quick, polite, always with a smile and a kind word. Customers left happy, warmed by her big, white-toothed grin and her cheerful “Take care, love!” Next time they came in, they’d head straight for her till, where she sparkled in all her ginger, glittery glory.
Not a single complaint—just praise from customers. Management admired her work but begged her to tone down the outfits. No chance. Everyone just had to put up with her quirks.
What no one knew was that Jenny carried fear in her heart—and a taser in her handbag.
Five years back, late one rainy night, she’d been jumped by a gang of lads. They beat her, took her phone, cash, and jewellery. She still remembered crawling home, wiping blood and rain from her face, terrified and hurting.
After that, the taser never left her bag.
She never told a soul. Behind the bright colours and bubbly laugh, she hid that deep, gnawing fear. She was terrified of young lads and the dark. But people just thought she was a ditzy mess.
Then came the day Jenny had her own little heroic moment.
On her day off, she hopped on a bus, dreaming of new outfits—what else does a single, independent woman do? Treat herself, right? So there she was, lost in thought, when three lads—barely more than teenagers—got on.
As the bus rolled through a quiet park area, they jumped up, knives out. “Sit down, don’t move! Wallets, phones, jewellery—now! No funny business!” One held a blade to the driver’s throat while the other two started collecting.
Passengers handed everything over in silence.
Jenny felt that old, sticky fear wash over her. She clutched her bag, heart pounding.
*This is happening again. Why me? God, help me.*
Then she remembered—the dark, the rain, the pain, the helplessness. And suddenly, she wasn’t scared. She was angry.
Angry at herself. Angry at the silent passengers handing over their stuff like sheep.
In tough spots, sweets always calmed her. A couple of chews, and she’d figure things out.
Now, her hand fumbled in her bag—not for sweets, but for the taser.
What she did next even shocked *her*.
She gripped it, flicked it on, and when one lad leaned in, she yanked her hand out and jammed it straight into his gut—right where his stupid T-shirt had some edgy print.
He screamed, dropped, and went still.
No one understood what just happened. Jenny played dumb, hiding the taser back in her bag. Only the bloke next to her coughed, hiding a grin.
The second robber ran over—*zap*—right in the neck.
The driver, quick as anything, slammed the brakes and wrestled the third lad down. Passengers jumped in, tying them up while Jenny’s two twitched on the floor.
When the police arrived, they couldn’t believe this flamboyant, ginger-haired woman in a garish blouse had taken down three robbers.
Back at work, Jenny never breathed a word. But that old fear? Gone. For the first time in years, she walked home in the dark without flinching.
They gave her an award for bravery—total shock to her colleagues. The officer handing it over held her hand a little too long, gazing into her big blue eyes. Funny thing? He didn’t even blink at the rings or the wild outfit.
He just saw a woman.
