(A customer comes into our sandwich shop. Instead of ordering at the counter, he sits down and spends 15 minutes staring at us from the table. However, he ignores all of our attempts to talk to him. Finally, he storms up to the register where I am and starts yelling.)

Customer: “When the f*** is one of your waiters going to take my f***ing order? I’ve been waiting here for half an hour!”

Me: “Sir, we don’t have waiters. You have to come up to the register to take your order. I’ll be happy to take your order for you, and we’ll probably have it ready before you finish paying.”

Customer: “No, my friend told me this is a classy joint! Classy joints have waiters! Now get a f***ing waiter out here or I’m leaving!”

Me: “Sir, we don’t have waiters, and if you insist on swearing at me I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Customer: “Make me f***er! Come at me, bro! You’re just a f***** with girl hair!”

(Note: I am a man with shaggy hair.)

Me: “Sir, please leave.”

Customer: “Suck my ****!”

(Fed up, my manager intervenes.)

Manager: “I’m calling the cops, so you can tell them to suck your **** all you like if you’re still here when they get here.”

Customer: *points at me* “Send this little f***** outside! I’ll be in the alley!”

(The customer storms out through the back door, which is for employees only. As my manager starts to dial the cops, he turns to me.)

Manager: *conspiratorially* “Hey, if you wanna take a break out in the alley, that’s cool.”

Me: “Excellent!”

(I go out the back door and find the belligerent customer still there.)

Customer: *sees me and freezes in place*

Me: *jumps over the rail separating us*

Customer: *takes off running*

(Instead of giving chase, I returned to the store. The police called a few minutes later telling us they had him in custody.)

(Note: I’m white British and my friend is Filipino. While at the university library, a library assistant comes over.)

Librarian: *to us* “Hi, where are you from?”

Me: “England.”

Librarian: *laughs* “Oh, no, not you! I mean your friend.”

Me: “The Philippines.”

Librarian: “There’s a quieter room you can go in if you’d like some privacy.”

Me: “Why would we need privacy?”

Librarian: “I just thought it must be hard to translate when it’s so noisy in here.”

My Friend: “…Translate?”

Librarian: *loudly and slowly* “Yes! I. Want. To. Help! Would. You. Like. A. Quiet. Room?”

My Friend: *speechless*

Librarian: *to me* “Are you going to translate that, then?”

Me: “Okay.” *to my friend, in English* “Shall we go study somewhere else?”

My Friend: *in perfect English* “That’s okay. She’ll probably figure it out soon and leave us alone. I’ll wait.”

Me: *to the librarian* “She says we’re fine here.”

Librarian: *embarrassed* “Oh, I’ll just… get back to work.” *runs off*

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Caller: “Somebody is hacking into my modem.”

Me: “Hacking into your modem?”

Caller: “Yes, they’re hacking into my modem.”

Me: “Why do you think somebody is hacking into your modem?”

Caller: “Because every time they do it, the link light blinks. LOOK! They’re doing it now. Can you see?”

Me: “No, ma’am. I can’t see what your modem is doing, but I assure you no one can hack into your modem. The link light flashes to let you know information is being transmitted from your modem to your router or computer. Now, it is possible for someone to hack into your computer. If you’d like to protect your computer, you can download the free antivirus provided with your internet service.”

Caller: “No, no, no. I can’t do that. I’ve tried it before.”

Me: “Why can’t you?”

Caller: “Because every time I try to download antivirus, somebody tries to hack into my computer. So, I have to hurry and unplug it before they can!”

(This indeed turns out to be true, as I find the following note on her account from a previous call: “Cx states when she tries to download antivirus, a box comes up on her screen saying ‘Downloading Norton’. Cx unplugs her computer quickly because someone is trying to download something on her computer so they can hack into it faster. Not sure what to do!”)

(My friend and I are sitting outside a store when we see a teenage girl chasing a little boy.)

Teenage Girl: “Get back here, kid! I’m not your freakin’ mother!”

Little Boy: “Can’t catch me!”

(The teenage girl catches the little boy a few feet away by the back of the shirt and picks him up. She then proceeds to walk back towards the store, smiling at us while carrying the boy upside down.)

Teenage Girl: “Nothing to see here. Cute shoes!”

(When I was in 7th grade, I volunteered at a local library. My main job was to gather books for pull lists. One day when I’m checking in some books and filling out sending forms, a man and his daughter walk up to my computer. Note: the scanner I am using beeps every time I scan a book.)

Daughter: “Why is it making that beeping sound, Daddy?”

Father: “I don’t know. Maybe she’s checking them in.”

Daughter: “Really?”

Father: “No. I think she’s going to steal them.”

(I look up, confused, and I’m about to interject when the father walks over to the head librarian’s door.)

Me: “Um, sir?”

Father: “Quiet, thief!” *knocks on the librarian’s door*

Head Librarian: “What seems to be the problem, sir?”

Father: “That girl over there, who is clearly not authorized to run those machines, was stealing your books!”

Me: “I was checking them out to put them into the send boxes.”

Father: “No! I clearly saw you stuff books into your pockets!”

Coworker: “Sir, she doesn’t have any pockets.”

Father: “I meant down her shirt!”

(Note: I am wearing a tight fitting shirt. If so much as a piece of paper had been under my shirt, it would have been very visible. Needless to say, there are clearly no books under my shirt.)

Father: “Fine! If you don’t believe me, I’m calling the cops!”

Head Librarian: “Sir, she was not stealing books! Please do not call the police!”

(The father ignores the head librarian and proceeds to dial the police anyway. The operator on the other end of the phone is speaking loud enough for us to hear.)

Father: “Excuse me, I’d like to report a girl stealing books at the [Library].”

Operator: “Sir, are you a member of the library staff?”

Father: “No, but I saw it happen!”

Operator: “Well, I’m sorry, sir, but—”

Father: “…and she planted a bomb!”

Me: “What?!”

Operator: *sighs audibly* “Right. We’ll send a bomb squad…”

(Five minutes later, there is indeed a bomb squad outside the library doors. They end up having to clear out the library, search me, and go through the entire library with bomb-dogs.)

Daughter: *to her father* “How come you said she planted a bomb? She didn’t!”

(When the police heard that, they arrested the father. I got a week off.)