(I have been in a wheelchair since age three. Despite this, I can push my own cart just fine while wheeling myself around. A customer in the store notices me.)

Customer: “Ma’am, do you need help? One of my kids can help you push your cart.”

Me: “No, thank you; I am doing just fine.”

Customer: “But you’re disabled! You can’t do anything on your own!”

(The customer tries to grab the cart. I hold onto it.)

Me: “I can do it just fine on my own, thank you!”

Customer: “See, that’s the problem these days! You people not accepting help!”

(I am a cashier working at a large department store. A customer comes up to my register holding a jersey with a large ’2′ on it.)

Customer: “Hey, I want one of these jerseys, but I want one with a ’1′ on it.”

Me: “Unfortunately, you got this out of clearance, right? We don’t carry back stock for anything in clearance. If you didn’t see a ’1′ jersey while you were there, we probably don’t have one, sorry.”

Customer: “Okay, but I want one with a ’1′ on it.”

Me: “I’m very sorry, sir; we don’t have one right now.”

Customer: “I want a ’1′ jersey! It’s my birthday; I want to be number one, not two!”

Me: “One is the loneliest number that you’ll ever know. Two, can be as bad as one. It’s the loneliest number since the number one.”

Customer: “…okay.”

(Surprisingly, after hearing this the customer buys the ’2′ jersey.)

Manager: “Did that just happen?”

(I work at the check-in counter for the ER. A patient comes in, dragging her very embarrassed teenage daughter behind her.)

Me: “Hi! How can I help you?”

Patient: “Yeah, I’m bringing in my daughter.”

Me: “And what brings you to the emergency room today, ma’am?”

Patient: “My daughter.”

Me: “I see. What is wrong with your daughter that brings you in tonight?”

Patient: “Her monthly is irregular.”

Me: “So, you want to bring her to the emergency room for irregular periods?”

Patient: “Duh!”

Me: “Have you taken her to her family doctor?”

Patient: “No!”

(As we’re not legally allowed to turn away any patient, I begin the registration.)

Patient: “And me, too.”

Me: “You want to check yourself in, too, for irregular periods?”

Patient: “No! God!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. What are we checking you in for?”

Patient: “Can’t you see it?!”

Me: “Ma’am?”

Patient: “My face!”

(She shoves her face up close to mine.)

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry but you’ll need to be a little more specific.”

Patient: “I got ‘the zits’!”

(Her face looks fine. I see one blemish that doesn’t even look like a zit.)

Me: “So, you came to the… emergency room… for adult acne?”

Patient: “YES! God, what are you, stupid?”

Me: “And have you seen your doctor about this?”

Patient: “No! This is my doctor!”

Me: “Ma’am, this is the emergency room. We treat emergencies. We are not your regular doctor.”

Patient: “Yes, you are. FIX IT!”

(I normally wear contacts. I am in a rush before work and just put my glasses on. A regular customer comes through later in the morning.)

Me: “Hi! Just a medium today?”

Regular: “Just the medium—hey, you’re wearing glasses! You never wore them before.”

Me: “That’s because I always wear my contacts, ma’am.”

Regular: “Don’t lie to me. You don’t need those!”

Me: “I’ve needed glasses since I was nine.”

Regular: “You know, I’m sick of you ‘hipster’ kids wearing ‘nerd’ glasses for fun! There are those of us that need them, and don’t appreciate what you’re doing!”

(I motion to my black plastic frames with their small rectangular lenses.)

Me: “I’m not hipster, and my lenses are too small to be nerdy.”

(The regular reaches across the counter, and grabs the glasses off my face.)

Regular: “You kids need to realize glasses aren’t just a fashion accessory!”

Me: “Ma’am, please give those back.”

(The regular puts them on, then flings them to the floor when she realizes exactly how strong they are. She picks them up and scratches a lens as she tries to figure out if they’re real. She throws them on the counter, breaking off one of the side arms.)

Regular: “What the h*** is wrong with those? Why are the lenses so weird?”

Me: “As I said, ma’am, I’ve needed glasses since I was nine. Actually, my vision is so bad that I legally cannot drive or even work without wearing vision correction. You just broke my only pair of glasses, which the local vision center does not carry anymore. How would you like to repay me for these?”

(The regular takes her coffee and pretty much runs. My manager sees the whole thing on camera from the office, and gets her information from the next time she comes in. Because we have proof she had destroyed my property, she didn’t fight handing me a check to cover the cost of a whole new pair of glasses.)

(I’ve just taken an order from a well-dressed woman and her daughter, who is wearing a uniform from a private school. The woman is berating her daughter about her grades.)

Woman: “If your grades don’t improve, you won’t get into college. You’ll end up in some dead-end job like her.”

(The woman gestures towards me.)

Me: “Actually, I’m a college graduate.”

Woman: “Yes, well I mean a real college.”

Me: “I graduated from the University of Texas with two degrees, and my teacher’s certification.”

Woman: “You evidently didn’t do too well if you wound up here now, did you?”

Me: “I wound up here after our state legislature cut funding for public education. My husband also holds a Master’s in engineering, but has been laid off for similar reasons. We’ve taken these jobs to survive so we wouldn’t have to depend on public assistance.”

(I hand them their drinks.)

Me: “Never judge a book by its cover.”

(The woman goes over to the condiment bar without another word, but her daughter smiles and fist-bumps me.)