(My family and I are sitting around a table outside a caravan on holiday in Paris. I’m 12, and my sister is 3. She has been blowing bubbles, and creates a huge one which she manages to rest on top of the bottle of bubble fluid. She carries it over, sits with us, and speaks in a low voice.)
 
Sister: “I shall now be reading your fortune.”
 
Mum: “Okay, what’s happening in my future?”
 
(My sister waves her hands mysteriously over the giant bubble.)
 
Sister: “You will have a nice new car.”
 
Mum: “Good news!” *points at my 6-year-old brother* “And how about your brother?”
 
(My sister waves her hands over the bubble again, looks up, raises an eyebrow.)
 
Sister: “He is going to win a football match.”
 
Brother: “Yay! What’s going to happen to [me]?”
 
(My sister begins to wave her hands over the bubble again, at which point it disappears. For a second, her eyes open wide with shock. She looks me straight in the eye with a serious expression.)
 
Sister: *in a matter-of-fact tone* “Well, she’s going to pop.”
 
(Without another word she stands, picks up the bottle and solemnly walks away.)

(I’ve just started working at this bagel shop, and am making a breakfast wrap that I’d only just learned out how to make about 20 minutes prior. I carry it to the counter and started ringing the customer up when my boss walks up behind me.)

Boss: “What the f*** is that?”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

(He points to the wrap I’ve just made.)

Boss: “I said what. The f***. Is THAT?!”

Me: “Um, it’s the breakfast wrap?”

Boss: “How the f*** do you think this is wrapped correctly? Are you an idiot? Are you slooooooow or something?”

(At this point, my boss starts doing an offensive and horrible impression of a mentally disabled person.)

Boss: “Hurr dee durr, I’m too stupid to wrap a f***ing breakfast sandwich!”

(Keep in mind, the customer hasn’t paid yet and has watched the entire conversation. He is a regular and knows I am new.)

Customer: “Excuse me, but where do you get off talking to this young lady like that? It looks fine and is probably delicious. I don’t mind; she’ll get the hang of it.”

Boss: “Shut up, a**hole! You can’t tell me how to talk to my employees! If she’s a stupid c***, I’ll tell her. I can say anything I want to her. I pay her check!”

(My boss walks away, but I’m nearly hyperventilating from trying not to cry. I meekly take the customer’s money and give him his change and breakfast. He hands me a $5 tip and pats my hand.)

Customer: “It’s okay, honey. You’re doing a good job. Don’t let her get to you. I’ll take care of it.”

(This statement confused me, but I found out later what he meant by it. Apparently, the customer knew the District Manager quite well, and immediately called him up to complain about my boss. The next day, my boss was gone!)

(My store is often used to train new managers for other stores. We are currently training a manager who tends to micro-manage everything.)

Manager-in-training: “Alright, before we begin to cut down these boxes that we’re throwing away, let me instruct you on how to use a knife.”

Me: “It’s cool; I’ve been doing this for 3 years. I know how to use a knife.”

Manager-in-training: *ignores me* “Okay, when you use a knife, always make sure to point the knife AWAY from you!” *demonstrates*

Me: “You do know that I’m an Eagle Scout, right?”

(I am teaching a new coworker how to close up the register.)

Me: “Okay, why don’t you count the cash while I get the change?”

Coworker: “Okay.”

(After a few minutes…)

Coworker: “I need to run and check on something down the street. I’ll be right back!”

Me: “Um…”

(She runs off, and I can’t really stop her. In the meantime, I recount the cash as we are often short a few cents. I notice that eighty dollars is missing. My coworker comes back.)

Me: “Would you happen to know where eighty dollars went missing? Did you pay a vendor or something today?”

Coworker: “No, I just took it to pay my rent. It’s okay, though. I’ll pay it back later!”

(I finish up closing since she’s already given it to her landlord, and there isn’t much I can do. I call the bosses and tell them. Being nice people, they forgive her after she pays them back. However, I know her rent is due two weeks later, so I wait. In the meantime, she has done things like locking up the store for an hour to go get lunch or leaving her thirteen-year-old daughter in charge. Two weeks later, I show up and take her key as another coworker needs it to open later that week. She runs off again in the middle of closing and I count the money to be sure she took it again.)

Me: “Eighty dollars is missing again. Would you know anything about it?”

Coworker: “I was paying my rent again. And it’s all your fault that I can’t pay it back soon, because you took my key!”

(I call my bosses and let them know. This time they do fire her. She apparently blamed me the whole time and insisted it was my fault. The awkward part? She continued to live in her apartment for a few months, right across the street from me!)

(My friend and I are waiting in line at a night club. A guy in front us presents his ID, but the bouncer isn’t buying it.)

Bouncer: “You can’t use this. It’s not a valid piece of ID.”

Guy: “Why not? It has my information on it.”

Bouncer: “First of all, it’s not government-issued. It looks like an employee ID. Second, do you seriously expect me to believe that this WHITE guy is you?”

(The photo on the ID clearly doesn’t match the guy, who is of Southeast Asian descent and is darker than the person in the photo.)

Guy: “Uhh… I’m a roofer. You gotta believe me, man! That’s me in the photo.”

Bouncer: “It’s almost October and we’re in Canada. That’s one h*** of a roofer’s tan you got there!”

Guy: “****!” *leaves the club*