(I’m female. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard this.)

Me: “I’ve got a twin brother.”

Person: “Are you identical?!”

(I work at a cash register at a fairly popular clothing store. A customer walks up to me with a t-shirt in hand.)

Customer: “Do you have this in size extra-medium?”

Me: *stares blankly* “An extra-medium?”

Customer: “Yeah. The medium just doesn’t fit.”

Me: “Is it too big?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Is it too small?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Then what’s wrong with it?”

Customer: “It’s not medium enough.”

Me: “I’ll see what I can do about that.”

(I take the shirt into the back room and take out a sharpie. I carefully draw an ‘X’ in front of the ‘M’ on the tag of the shirt. I then return and hand the shirt to the customer. He checks the tag, then goes and tries it on in the fitting room. I see him again at the checkout counter.)

Me: “Were you happy with your shirt?”

Customer: “Yeah. That extra-medium fits so much better than the medium!”

(A customer brings some items to my register and I ring them up. The total is £5.50, and she hands me a £10 note. I’ve come across this scam many times, so rather than putting the customer’s money straight into the register, I always place it on top until the transaction is complete, and put it in the drawer at the last moment. It is summer, and I am wearing a light summer dress with no pockets.)

Me: “Thanks, your change is £4.50, and here’s your receipt.”

Customer: *staring at the money but not taking it* “I gave you a £20 note.”

Me: “No, sorry, you paid with a £10 note. Your change is £4.50.”

Customer: “No! I gave you a £20 note! You’re trying to short-change me!”

Me: *smiling* “You gave me £10. This £10.” *I point at the note sitting on the register* “Your change is £4.50.”

Customer: *red-faced and irate* “Get your manager!”

(My manager is at a desk right behind me, and has heard everything.)

Manager: “Can I help?”

Customer: “She’s trying to steal my money! I gave her a £20, but she’s only giving me change for a £10!”

Manager: *peering into my cash drawer* “Well, the drawer has two £5 notes, and about three £10 notes in it, but no £20 notes. Where exactly is the £20 note you paid with?”

Customer: “Um… she must have pocketed it!”

(The manager steps back, and makes a point of slowly looking up and down at my clearly pocketless outfit.)

Manager: “Right… and where exactly would she have put it?”

Customer: “Er…”

Manager: “Right.” *to me* “Give her the change from the £10.”

Me: “Here you go, £4.50!”

Customer: “F*** you!”

Manager: *to me* “I’ll make you a cup of tea. I think you need it.”

This story is part of our Scammer roundup!

Want to read the next story? Click here!

Want to see the roundup? Click here!

(I work at a golf course that is situated in a residential area. I am talking to a friend of mine who owns a home on the course when a ball lands in his backyard.)

Golfer: “Move!” *hops the fence*

Friend: “Hey! This is private property; get out of here!”

Golfer: “No, it isn’t; I paid good money to play on this course and I am going to play through.”

Me: “Actually, sir, it is private property.”

Golfer: *not listening* “Why the h*** do you put such stupid obstacles in the way? What kind of course has fences so close to the green?”

Friend: “It isn’t an obstacle! It’s my fence, and you are in my backyard. Now beat it before I call the police.”

Golfer: “Shut the f*** up; you’re throwing me off my game.” *turns to me* “Shouldn’t you escort him off the course? He isn’t showing any etiquette.”

(My friend gets irritated and goes into his house.)

Me: “He doesn’t have to show any etiquette; he owns the property. You are the one I will be escor—”

Golfer: “No, he doesn’t! The course owns all of this; how stupid are you?”

(My friend comes back with a bucket of golf balls and dumps them where the golfer’s ball has landed.)

Golfer: “What the f*** are you doing?! I’ll never find my ball!”

Friend: “Good.”

Golfer: “I paid good money for that ball, and you’re stealing it! I am calling the police!”

Me: “It landed in someone’s yard. It is clearly stated in the rule book that a residential area is out of bounds, so he can do whatever he wants with it.”

Golfer: “Shut up! What do you know? You’re just some kid!”

Me: “Sir, please come with me. You are not welcome here anymore.”

Golfer: “No! I can do what I want! I paid good money to—”

Friend: “I spend all day cleaning up after a**holes like you that think they can do whatever they want. They rammed their carts into my fence thinking it was a personal cart stopper, and I had to finally shell out $1,500 to buy a new one because it eventually fell down completely.”

Golfer: “I didn’t—”

Friend: “People like you have stolen my stuff and left their trash in my yard, even though there is a bin right there next to the tee-box. They have killed my dog, and one of you pricks had the audacity to walk into my house and use my bathroom without even so much as asking.”

Golfer: *stuttering* “But the course owns it; I’m allowed to—”

Friend: “No, you’re not. My property line extends another twenty feet past the fence line; you are trespassing. I own this house, this yard, and everything in it.”

(My friend picks him up and tosses him over the fence.)

Golfer: “That’s assault! I am calling the police on you! I paid good money!”

Friend: “I don’t give a d*** how much you paid; this is private property and according to the state penal code, I can remove you just like I did.”

Golfer: “I’ll sue! I paid good money!”

Friend: “Go ahead; I’ll be your lawyer.”

(One of the owners showed up and escorted the golfer off the golf course. He was banned from playing there again. My friend now plays free for his trouble.)

This story is part of our Golf roundup!

Read the next Golf roundup story!

Read the Golf roundup!

(I love video games. My brothers and I were basically raised on video games by both parents. My brother and I head to the local game store near our house to check out the wares. I’m a girl.)

My Brother: “We are going to look for more Bioshock Infinite stuff today.”

Me: “Okay.”

(He and I begin looking at shirts, DLC and other items related to the game. All the while, I am getting dirty looks from the male clerk. I assume he is new, as I’ve never seen him before.)

Clerk: “You’re a girl that plays games? Don’t you know girls are supposed to be in the kitchen?”

Me: *shrugs* “So? I play video games all the time dude, so chill out.”

Clerk: *scoffs* “I heard you and your brother talking. I bet you don’t play Bioshock Infinite.”

My Brother: *chimes in* “She beat it before I did.”

Clerk: *glares at me* “Prove it.”

(I’ve had enough of the clerk’s attitude, and tell him the ending to the game. He remains silent for a while, and doesn’t bother me again until my brother has me buy him another game.)

Clerk: “So, I don’t believe you. Where are you in the game?”

Me: “Stuck on Lady Comstock’s second battle—”

Clerk: “Ha! I knew it!”

Me: “—on ‘1999 mode.'”

(‘1999 mode’ is the extra-hard version of the game that is unlocked only by completing the game once. The clerk shuts up, rings up my brother’s game, and then asks me for my phone number.)

My Brother: “Back off a**-hole; she’s got standards and no way in h*** would I let you treat my sister like you did today.”

Me: “I don’t date dudes anyway.”

Related:
Call Of Duty: Misogynist Warfare
Call Of Duty: Misogynist Warfare, Part 2
Call Of Duty: Misogynist Warfare, Part 3
Call Of Duty: Misogynist Warfare, Part 4

This story is part of our Awesome Girl Gamer roundup!

Read the next Awesome Girl Gamer roundup story!

Read the Awesome Girl Gamer roundup!