(I’m the only female on the electrics crew for a summer theater company. During this time, the company stays in the dorms at a nearby university. The company works in an old, somewhat converted barn that is locked up all winter and is extremely unclean and hazardous when the theater company arrives in the summer. On this day, my crew is removing lighting instruments from our closet and scrubbing rust off of them with steel wool and rubbing alcohol.)

Master Electrician: *screams like a little girl, jumps up, and runs to the other side of the barn/theater*

Me: “What?! What’s wrong?”

Master Electrician: “BLACKWIDOWBLACKWIDOWBLACKWIDOW!”

Me: “What?”

Master Electrician: “There’s a black widow!”

(Reminder: everybody else on this crew are men. I start over toward the area where the master electrician has seen this spider.)

Master Electrician: “Oh, my God! What are you doing?!”

Me: “I figured I’d kill it.”

(At this point I can see the small, BROWN spider and am going to step on it.)

Master Electrician: *high-pitched scream* “No! DON’T DON’T DON’T! Don’t! It’ll get in the tread of your boot and it’ll end up in my room and it’ll kill me!”

(Our rooms literally couldn’t be further apart; we’re in different wings on different floors.)

Me: “I seriously don’t think that’s going to happ— What the f*** are you doing?!”

([Master Electrician] has come back towards the spider, brandishing a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a cigarette lighter.)

Me: “We’re in a barn! Don’t even think about setting that spider on fire!”

Master Electrician: “BUT IT HAS TO DIE!”

(I grab his lighter away from him and grind the spider to death with the toe of my boot.)

Master Electrician: “That was so stupid and reckless! What’s wrong with you?!”

(I am pleased to report that the common brown spider did not morph into a black widow, did not stow away in the tread of my boots, did not go back to the dorms with us, and did not traverse the building to kill the master electrician in his sleep. Sadly, the master electrician who tried to set a spider on fire is still a certified electrician, licensed to wire people’s homes.)

(I’m helping a customer, Customer #1, pick out a watch at a department store jewelry counter. Another customer, Customer #2, interrupts.)

Customer #2: “Excuse me, I have a return. I had to wait in line at Customer Service just to be told I have to come up here.”

Me: “I’ll be with you in a minute ma’am, I am helping this other lady at the moment.”

Customer #2: “Well! I don’t have all day!”

Customer #1: *to me* “You can return that for her.” *whispers* “Before she throws a fit.”

(I do the return and turn back to Customer #1.)

Customer #2: “EXCUSE ME! The customer service lady said you would ring this all out for me as well.”

(Customer #2 holds up 2 boxes of shoes, some shirts, jeans and under garments.)

Me: “Normally I would be able to, but as I said before I am helping this lady in watches. You can wait until I finish helping her or go up to the registers with your purchases.”

Customer #2: “Well, I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you!”

(Customer #2 storms off to the registers and stands in line, but continues to glare at me from afar.)

Customer #1: “Whoa! Someone needs a nap!”

(It’s my day off, and I’m shopping at the store where I work when this happens.)

Customer: “You!” *runs up to me*

Me: “Uh, yes?”

Customer: “That’s not how you respond to a paying customer. You’re supposed to say, ‘How may I help you today, ma’am’, and smile!”

Me: “Um, actually right now I’m a paying customer too.”

Customer: “You still work here don’t, you? So, you have to help me or I will get you fired!”

Me: “I’m not working right now. That means—”

Customer: “I don’t care what it means!”

Me: “It means that I cannot help you, will not help you, and it also means I get to walk away.”

(A few minutes pass. Then the customer returns with my manager.)

Customer: *points at me* “Her! She refused to help me. Fire her!”

Manager: “Ma’am, she’s not working today. She’s here as a customer, and if that was you I heard yelling at her, that means I can kick you out of the store for harassing other customers. Please finish your shopping and leave.”

Customer: “But she still works here so she has to help me! I am the customer! I am right!”

Manager: “Geez.” *hands me her manager card* “Use this on your stuff to get my discount. I have to deal with this.”

Me: “Remember boss, the customer is always right!”

Manager: “Oh, shut up.”

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(I have a bunch of friends over for a concert, and we all stay at the same place in South County Dublin, about twenty minutes from the city centre. It is almost midnight by the time we get to the bus stop. Dublin Bus provides a free shuttle service to the concert, but by that time all the free shuttle buses are gone. Just then, an out-of-service bus arrives.)

Bus Driver: “Hm, there’s a lot of you left here. Tell you what: we’ll just pretend I’m a shuttle.”

(My friends and I and a couple of strangers get on thanking him. On the way to the city centre, I need more information.)

Me: “Sorry, when’s the next Nightlink?

Bus Driver: “That just left; the next one is at 02:00 h. You might have to get a cab.”

(I try to call Enquiries for a cab company, but can’t because my phone is out of battery. My friends are all from abroad and therefore don’t have Irish Enquiry numbers on their phones. The bus driver overhears our increasingly worried conversation and gives me his phone. At this stage we’re almost at Trinity College, where the shuttle terminates.)

Me: “Thanks, are you going on to Donnybrook Garage?”

Bus Driver: “Yeah, don’t worry. You can stay on.”

(I try to get a cab, but am told by the cab company that they can’t send out a seven-seater to the bus garage but we should just flag one down—pretty much an impossibility.)

Me: *to my friends* “S***, we’ll have to flag one down… or two, rather.”

(At this stage, the only people left on the bus are me, my friends, and one guy on the backbench. We’re all getting seriously worried about getting home.)

Bus Driver: “Right, so where are you all going?”

Me: “Deansgrange!”

Guy On The Back Bench: “Dun Laoghaire!”

(Both these suburbs are off the same main road, about three miles apart.)

Bus Driver: “Shag it, I’ll drop you all home!”

(The driver dropped us, and presumably the guy from Dun Laoghaire, all the way to our respective street corners, thus staying on about half an hour after his shift ended and going out of his way about 10 miles there and back. All we had to repay him for his awesomeness was one of our homemade message board badges commemorating the concert meet-up and half a Duty-Free bag of gummi bears, and he accepted them with a smile. That’s why I love this country.)

(I work at a library that opens Monday through Saturday. It is the Tuesday after a long weekend following the celebration of Mexico’s Independence Day. When I walk in, my assistant looks to be almost in tears while talking to a customer on the phone. I decide to take the call from there.)

Me: “Good morning. This is the manager. How may I help you?”

Customer: “Oh, nothing with, really. Since you are all a bunch of lazy a**holes. Shame on you.”

Me: “I’m afraid I don’t understand, ma’am.”

Customer: “Well, I called on Sunday because I needed some very important information and no one picked up the phone. No one, you lazy b****!”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that, but, you see, we close Sundays. Any other day we are happy to help with any information.”

Customer: “Yeah? Well, explain this to me. I called yesterday and your s****y secretary didn’t even pick up the phone.”

Me: “Well, because of the long weekend, we were closed this particular Monday.”

Customer: “What the f***? You close when I need information? Are you deliberately doing this to upset me? This country doesn’t need people like you, you know?!”

Me: “You mean, people that celebrate its independence? That’s the reason we closed. Banks close this particular day too, you know?”

Customer: “What?! You mean banks were closed too?! Is this some kind of evil plan you’re all plotting against me?!”

(At this point, I decide I’ve had enough of her screaming.)

Me: “YES WE ARE! And now you know, you should never stop looking over your shoulder because we are after YOU.”

(We never heard from that customer again.)