Unfiltered Story #187006

[I’m working as a cleaner at a train station, walking along the platform with my trolley. There’s an Asian man talking into a mobile phone in a foreign language and sounding very agitated. He glances at me as I’m walking by and comes over, waving the phone at me.]
Me: Is there a problem?
Him: *heavy accent* Talk. Talk to them. [thrusts phone at me]
Me: What? Why? I can’t…
Him: Talk to them!
(I hear the person on the other end of the phone sounding confused and asking questions. From what little I gather, they seem to be from a bank)
Me: I can’t talk to people on your phone for you, I’m sorry. Especially not a bank. I have to go now. Sorry.
Him: No! Come back and talk to them.
(He follows me, waving the phone and insisting I talk to them, until I enter the staff-only area. I feel bad for him having difficulty, but I’m not going to get involved in a stranger’s personal business like that. And why he was so desperate for *me* to do it and no one else, I don’t know!)