(I was stationed on the checkout and have just served two elderly ladies. As they are walking away I hear them talking as they stop to look at a display.)

Customer #1: “Oh look, They’ve got a promotion on [Popular Toilet Tissue].”

Customer #2: “Yeah, I’ve got some in the freezer at home.”

(I am a high school junior, in our school’s marching band. I play the trombone; therefore, I am often in the front of our block. Our drum major tells us this story as we’re focusing on our music, rather than what was happening in front of us at the time. We are not allowed to stop the parade under any circumstances unless the drum major signals it.)

Musicians: *starts marching and playing*

Crowd: *cheers and makes way for our band*

(We have gone for about 10 minutes now, and a woman comes from nowhere and stops in front of the band, texting on her cell phone. Trombones are ALWAYS in front of the band, and since we can’t stop, we hit her by accident.)

Woman: *gets hit by the slide* “You little f***! Watch where you’re going! How did your mother ever raise you like this?”

Security Guard: “MAKE WAY FOR THE PARADE BAND, MISS!”

Woman: “No. I was in the middle of something, and these teens are going to f****** pay for the damages they caused to my head and ears. Why do you allow them to f****** walk in the middle of the street where people need to walk, huh?!”

Security Guard: “STEP OFF THE STREET, OR ELSE WE WILL HAVE TO USE FORCE. PLEASE COMPLY!”

Woman: “I’ve had enough of this. These little f*** need to learn a little respect!” *swings purse at the nearest person*

(At this point, the drum major thought the security guard had taken care of the woman, and continued marching. The unlucky saxophone got knocked out, as the purse was rather heavy and it hit him in the temple, causing him to fall. By this point, the drum major saw what occurred and signaled us for “parade band halt.” The woman continued to try to hit people, until the security guards and police came and detained her. We learned that the saxophone was badly damaged and needed repairs, the person got a concussion and trip to the hospital, along with two other people that were hit in the face by the woman’s purse. The woman had to pay a hefty fine of $5000. Saxophones and tubas are expensive. She also earned herself three months in jail for assault, and anger management classes.)

(It’s summer and I’m a 60-plus-year-old woman with grey hair driving an older minivan with the windows down. I stop at the last stoplight in town before heading north on the highway. Pulling to a stop I see a biker on a Harley in the next lane. He has a vest on with the name of his club and is sporting a arm-full of tattoos. We look at each other and he smiles.)

Biker: “Wanna race?”

(I recently moved to this city and I get lost frequently. I’ve noticed that many of the public transportation stops have maps. I am going to look at one of those maps and there’s a woman waiting on the bench next to it. Note: I’m male.)

Me: *intending to be polite but not really start a conversation* “Good morning.”

Her: “I don’t know you and I don’t plan on f****** you anytime soon.”

(I don’t know what made her so jaded, but I hope her life got better.)

(I am, unfortunately, heading into work to finish up some urgent tasks on the weekend. There’s also a large religious event happening a few blocks away. At this point, I’m walking down the sidewalk about a block from work, with my headphones in.)

Me: *suddenly feels a tap on my mid-back, and turns to see a boy, about nine-years-old, tapping me* “Oh, my god, are you lost?”

Boy: “No, but you might be.”

Me: “I’m sorry; I don’t know what you mean. Do you know where your parents are? Do you need me to help you find them?”

Boy: “You said a bad thing when I tapped you. You should pray for forgiveness. I can help you.”

Me: *dawning on me that he’s with the religious event* “Oh… oh-kay. Um… do you know where your parents are? I can take you to the security desk at my office and they can call the police to help you get back to your parents.”

Boy: “I’m here to help you. Won’t you pray with me?”

Me: “You know what? I’m just going to call the police right here and they can help you find your parents. Stay here; I’m sure they’ll respond shortly.”

(As soon as I dial the phone, a large family swoops in on me and says he’s their son, he was just trying to “help” me, and insinuates that I was very rude for turning down his offer to pray with me.)

Me: “You know what? I’m just trying to get to work. I thought he was lost! What little kid approaches an adult stranger alone?! I’m not totally sold that you’re his family. I’m still going to call the police, and you can deal with them.”

(The police respond quickly, ask me what happened, tell me I can go, and then turn to address the family. Last thing I hear:)

Police: “Do you realize how stupid that is? Even if people are more likely to pray with a child, you’re setting him up to be abducted! Do you have any other children wandering around in the area approaching strangers?”