(I work in a bookstore in Colorado. My coworker went skiing the previous week, and broke her leg, arm, two ribs and a few muscles snapped and can’t come in. I see my manager pacing as we open.)

Manager: “Where the h*** is [coworker]?! She was booked in today!”

Me: “[Manager], she hasn’t been able to come in for nearly three weeks.”

Manager: “Well she should have asked for time off.”

Me: “She’s injured herself.”

Manager: “Whatever. It’s just a little fall; she should come in. I’m writing her up.”

Me: *horrified* “She fell over 75 feet down the mountain, a ski pierced her arm and she had some blood loss! I saw her in hospital last weekend and she was really in a bad state!”

Manager: “Not my fault. She should have asked for time off. I can’t help it if she wants to take this time off.”

(A week later, my coworker is back, but has to sit down at the registers as her leg is in plaster and she can’t use her right arm. She tries to smile anyway.)

Manager: “[Coworker], can you get that book for me?” *points to high shelf*

Coworker: “I have a broken leg. I can’t get up.”

Manager: “Oh shut up! You know you’re just a lazy, fat cow! Tell you what: if you get any more lazy and take any more time off without asking, I’m firing you!”

(My coworker is nearly in tears, but hobbles over to the shelf, with broken arm and leg, and uses a ladder. She’s trying hard not to scream in pain the whole time. 25 minutes later, she’s just managed to get the book, get down, go to the desk and put it in a required box. The manager comes up.)

Manager: *snatching it* “God, you’re f****** lazy.”

(My coworker complained to the owner, who fired the manager immediately. My friend is now much better!)

(My store serves a variety of health-drinks. Some of these are concentrated and fairly potent, so we serve them in the form of a ‘shot,’ although they don’t contain any alcohol. A customer comes in with two rowdy young children and orders one of our shots. Her kids are running around and shouting in the background.)

Customer: “I’m taking them back-to-school shopping today, and—STOP FIGHTING, JUST STOP—sorry.”

Coworker: “Here’s your shot ma’am!”

Customer: “Alright kids. Mommy’s going to take her shot now! At 10:30 in the morning! What am I doing with my life? At least it’s just wheatgrass…”

Me: “[Doctor’s office]. How may I help you?”

Patient: “I need an appointment for tomorrow.”

Me: “How about 10:20?”

Patient: “20 minutes until 11:00?”

Me: “No. 10:20.”

Patient: *condescendingly* “Isn’t 10:20 just 20 minutes until 11:00?”

Me: “No. That would be 10:40.”

Patient: “How many minutes until eleven is 10:20?”

Me: “40.”

Patient: “So my appointment is at 10:40?”

Me: “No. It’s 10:20.”

Patient: “Okay. See you at 10:40.”

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(A guest has been making snide comments about everything from the biscuits and gravy at breakfast to the TV channel that was on in the breakfast room. He has also been calling me (a 31-year-old woman) ‘sweetie,’ ‘honey’ and ‘darling’ mockingly for about 20 minutes. He sees my Kindle out on the desk and, of course, has to comment.)

Guest: “So honey, what are you reading? Twilight?” *laughs*

Me: *putting so much sugar in my voice I want to gag* “No, actually it’s a book by a nationally known but still local author called Monster Of God. It examines the cultural, ecological and economic impacts of alpha predators in areas that allow them to come in to contact and conflict with humans.” *sweet smile*

Guest: “Oh… okay. Have a nice day.”