As with most Asian families, my family believes that having a white-collar job is above anything. This is very evident with a couple of relatives who force their children to go to medical school. Any career other than a doctor is a sin in their eyes.

My mother was open-minded about my choice of career. The only condition she had was that I should have at least a bachelor’s degree before getting a job. So, I started working in the IT industry after college graduation. I had decent pay, I was able to learn and experiment at my own pace, and I even got an opportunity to work abroad. I was happy with my career.

Things weren’t easy at first, as with all jobs. I struggled to settle down with the workload and the new city. I reached out to my family to help me find a job near my home. My entitled relatives got hold of this piece of news during a family gathering.

Instead of helping me out, they scoffed. My aunt told my younger cousins:

Aunt: “See, this is why you shouldn’t be an engineer. You’re going to struggle and end up with nothing. After all, a doctor is the most respectable job in society.”

I blinked at her. I was shocked that she could just insult my career in front of everyone. I was also disgusted at her because she’s a teacher and I expected her to know better. I didn’t want to make a scene, so I didn’t talk back. But someone else did: my mother.

My mother is a single parent. She was a brilliant student at school and dreamt of being a teacher. But that was all gone when she was married off. She regretted that when she was divorced and struggled to live. She wanted her daughters not to go through the same thing. She sold her jewellery and spent her savings to get us a decent education so that we could get jobs. She was furious when someone insulted our hard work.

She didn’t hold back her anger as she thundered:

Mother: “Are you out of your d*** mind, [Aunt]? You’re a teacher! Can’t you show a bit of dignity when you speak? Don’t you have common sense to think that your daughter couldn’t work in a hospital with electricity, running water, machines, or software if there were no engineers? Even a janitor at the hospital has their value. If you ever insult my daughter or her choices again, you will see the worst of me!”

The room was silent as everyone watched my aunt process what was going on. Nobody had ever seen my mother that mad.

But it did a good thing. [Aunt] never raised a word about her children’s careers or mine after that. Also, two of my cousins got into the engineering stream following the incident!

It’s early morning, and our store is setting up. A customer approaches the door, and when it doesn’t open, he starts banging on it. 

Coworker: “We’re not open yet, sir! Come back at 8:00 am.”

Customer: “I can’t open the door!” 

Coworker: “We’re not open until eight, sir! Come back then!” 

Customer: “Open the door! I need to buy my cigarettes!”

My coworker reminds him one more time to come back at 8:00 am and then walks off to continue his opening duties. At least, he is about to. We all stop at the sound of something hitting the door multiple times and then, finally, glass breaking.

This crazy MF has managed to find a pole that was holding up an ad and used it to ram the glass door. I rush over as he starts using the pole to clear away the shattered glass and casually bends down to enter the store through it.

Customer: “The door was broken.”

Me: “Sir… what the actual f***?! The door was locked, not broken! Locked, because we’re still closed!”

Customer: *Starts walking into the store* “Sell me my cigarettes.” 

Me: “Sir, we will not be selling you any cigarettes! In fact, we will be calling the police because you have willingly damaged the store!”

Customer: “Sell me my cigarettes, or I’ll use you as a punching bag!”

Threat of violence — that’s it. I call the silent alarm, which means someone has been tasked with calling the police. I follow the customer over to the tobacco counter. He is still so ridiculously calm and oblivious to his bad behavior that I am in shock.

Customer: “I’ll take [Brand, [size]. Two packs.”

Me: “Sir, I don’t think you understand. You broke down the door and threatened to assault my staff, and the police are on their way to arrest you. We will not be selling you cigarettes today!”

Customer: “Fine. What about tomorrow?”

He was still totally oblivious to the trouble he was in when the police arrived to escort him out.

At our project kickoff meeting, I ask a client what method of communication he prefers.

Client: “Email is the best way to reach me and ensure that I get your message.”

I send him a project update via email two days later. After getting no response after two days, I query him again via email. He replies, also via email.

Client: “I get too many emails, so just call me here at the office.”

I call him the following week to get his approval on a design, and the receptionist screens my call. I try three more times over the next week, making sure to email with each call. 

On Friday:

Client: “Where are my proofs? We’re on a deadline.”

Me: “I called numerous times, but your receptionist wouldn’t let me speak to you.”

Client: “Yeah, I told her to screen my calls. Just call me on my mobile.”

I call his mobile three times the next week, leaving a message on his (generic) voicemail.

Once again, this brings us to Friday:

Client: “I just ignore my phone’s voicemail. Call my office or email me.”

I begin to do all three, in rotation, over the next week. After failing to reach him, I send him a certified letter to have him sign off on the final product.

He calls me three days later.

Client: “Why are you sending me a letter? It’s 2013, for God’s sake! There are better ways to get a hold of me.”

A mother is checking out with her teen daughter.

Mother: *To her daughter* “I still can’t believe you wanted to work here with all these… people. If I’d let you send that application, you’d be forced to be here on a Saturday instead of coming to have brunch with me and the ladies. Isn’t that better than being with… well… them?“

They place a few clothing items on the counter.

Me: “Ma’am, you’re in good luck! Anyone over fifty-five gets 10% off today!”

It actually was a “seniors’ day” that day, and we didn’t have to check IDs or anything. It was satisfying seeing this woman who was obviously under fifty-five cringing.

One time when I was in college, my roommates were ordering Chinese food. At the time, I was pretty convinced that I didn’t like Chinese food because I had had it twice and it was very subpar and bland. (It ended up being that I had just had bad places.)

I had a Thai aunt who made delicious dishes at family gatherings, but I didn’t know what any of them were. I knew my favorite was a very spicy chicken. (She used to joke that she was trying to make it so spicy to kill my stepdad because he always said it was never spicy enough.)

So, when I was asked what I wanted, I asked them:

Me: “Can they make chicken that will burn my face off?”

The restaurant complied, and it was delicious. And it led to me trying Chinese food at various places and finding out that I did, in fact, like Chinese food from good Chinese places, and it did not have to burn my face off.