(I’m in the boarding area of an airport with my friends. I’m using my phone’s personal hotspot to share WiFi with my friends when a lady comes up to me. Keep in mind that my hotspot has a password, like any other, to keep people from using my data.)

Lady: “Give me the password to your WiFi!”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Lady: “I know you have WiFi! Give me the password!”

Me: “Sorry, but that’s my hotspot–”

Lady: “GIVE ME IT!”

Me: “Ma’am. You do not understand. THIS. IS. MY. WIFI. I’m not giving you my password.”

Lady: “Fine! I’ll just get you fired for hogging the WiFi!”

Me: “Good luck, because I don’t work here!”

(My friends and I think that that’s the end of her. But only five minutes later, she brings a manager over to “get me fired.”)

Lady: “See!? That’s him! He won’t give me the WiFi password!”

Manager: “Ma’am, first, I don’t know him because he doesn’t work here. Therefore, I can’t fire him. Second, our airline’s WiFi is free.”

Lady: “But…”

Manager: “Third, I’m sure he is using his own hotspot’s WiFi, so you’re just trying to get free WiFi from him.”

Lady: “So make him give me the password!”

Manager: “No.”

Lady: “Excuse me?”

Manager: “I said no, if you didn’t hear me.”

Lady: “THE CUSTOMER’S ALWAYS RIGHT!”

Manager: “Well, in this case, you certainly are not.”

Lady: *speechless*

Manager: “Now, are you going to go back to your seat to leave these POLITE flyers alone, or do I have to get security to escort you out of here?”

Lady: *looks at me, then to the manager, then back to me, then turns 50 shades of red and clambers back into her seat*

Manager: *to me* “Well, I bet she won’t bother you anymore!”

(Later we got the best seats for being polite and not causing a commotion, and I spotted her sitting between two bratty kids!)

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(I manage a retail store that does engravings. When customers want something done we go to a little counter, stand opposite the customer, and explain pricing. I am due to have my daughter any day when this happens. I’m tall and have always been really skinny.)

Nice Young Couple: “We want to get [Item] with [Name] on it.”

Me: “Oh, that’s such a cute name!”

(I explain the pricing. All is going well.)

Woman: “I’m six months along and feel like a whale! How far are you?”

Me: “I’m nine months. Actually, the doctor said I should have popped a week ago. When I’m done working, I walk the Mall of America like a crazy person because a manager over there swears it helps induce labor!”

Woman: “You’re nine months!? Why are you so small?!”

Me: “I don’t know. I’m just naturally skinny but the doctor predicted that she would at least be seven pounds or more.”

Woman: *suddenly incredibly angry* “I’m only six months and bigger than you! That’s not fair!”

(At that point the woman went savage and actually tried to climb over the counter to hit me. Her boyfriend grabbed her and dragged her out of the store kicking and screaming “It’s not fair!” while giving me a look that said “I’m so sorry!” Two days later I got my doctor to give me a note saying I couldn’t work anymore while pregnant because of blood pressure issues. I had my baby a week later and quit when my maternity leave was up. I have never, and will never, go back to retail. I have a lot of respect for people that stick it out. You don’t get paid enough.)

(I’m the manager at a pet store, and I’ve always had a soft spot for reptiles. My favorites are leopard geckos, so I’m always eager to give advice to customers interested in them. One day I’m bagging crickets for a customer who has leopard geckos at home, and we start a conversation about them.)

Customer: “Yeah, for some reason, their appetites increase during the summer.”

Me: “That’s normal. The warmer temperatures make them more active, so they’re going to eat more.”

Customer: “I just don’t know what’s going on. My leopard geckos always act like they’re starving!”

Me: “Oh? How often do you feed them?”

Customer: “Once a month.”

Me: *wondering if maybe I misheard and she has a snake* “What type of animal did you say you have again?”

Customer: *annoyed* “Lizard!”

Me: “But what type of lizard?”

Customer: “Gecko? Leopard gecko.”

Me: “Ma’am, leopard geckos need to eat every other day! Three times a week at the bare minimum!”

Customer: “That’s not true! More than once a month will kill them.”

Me: “Ma’am, I’ve had leopard geckos since I was in middle school. They’re my favorite animal in this building. You NEED to feed them more than once a month, or they WILL starve.”

Customer: *huffy and offended* “Well, I’ve had leopard geckos for years, so I know what I’m doing.”

(I later found out that she’d complained to the cashier about how rude “the cricket girl” was and had threatened to call the manager. Since I WAS the manager, a part of me wishes she had!)

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(Today at work we are experiencing more customers than usual and are drastically understaffed. I have recently undergone brain surgery for a hemorrhage so my hair is on the short side for a girl my age. After manning our coffee machine for several hours, a particularly sassy woman approaches the counter, pushing aside several customers in the process.)

Customer: “I demand to be served immediately!”

Me: “Sorry, ma’am, but you’ll have to wait in line like everyone else.”

Customer: “You just don’t want to serve a straight woman like myself because you’re a lesbian.”

Me: “I beg your pardon, madam, but I am not a lesbian and I’m just asking that you wait in line like everyone else.”

Customer: “But you have short hair.”

Me: “Ma’am, that doesn’t mean I’m a lesbian. In fact I’ve recently undergone brain surgery and to operate they had to cut my hair off.”

(By this point I’m incredibly frustrated as my line is growing longer every minute she carries on with her rant.)

Customer: “Oh, you’re a f**k*** liar! I just want a coffee and a straight person to serve me.”

(A man approaches the woman looking about as angry as I am.)

Customer #2: “Look here, b****, this poor girl has had an extreme surgery and as a result her hair is short. If you have any tips for her on how she should style herself then leave them in the tip jar!”

(The woman turned bright red, quickly dropped a $20 note in my tip jar, and high-tailed it out of the shop.)

(I work in a small town ER as an advanced EMT. I do a lot of IVs and venipuncture in the ER, on our ambulance on 911 calls, as well on our other hospital floors for nurses who are unable to start the IV themselves on people who are exceptionally hard to stick. I get a lot of practice in less than ideal conditions so my IV skills are well-honed.)

Me: “Hello! The doctor wants to run a few labs so I’m here to draw your blood.”

Patient: *laughs condescendingly* “You won’t be getting any of my blood today. I’m a horrible stick. Your nurse will have to draw it out of my central line.”

Me: “I understand, ma’am, but I’ll have to at least take a look.” *applies tourniquet to right arm and notices large blue vein comes to the surface on her hand* “Looks like you’ve got a nice one right here so I’ll give it a shot.”

Patient: “You’re welcome to try but you’re wasting your time! Everyone tries and they always fail.”

(The patient continues to chastise me for trying and assures me repeatedly that I’ll fail. Meanwhile, I poke her with a small butterfly and draw the blood, giving her “mmmhmms” and “ahh, okay…” during her rant. When I finish I apply a cotton ball and a bandaid.)

Patient: “See, I told you! You’ll need to go get your nurse now!”

Me: “Get my nurse? How come?”

Patient: “Because! You can’t just draw blood off of me like I’m just any other patient! I’m an impossible stick!”

(I hold up 10 mL blood.)

Me: *flash her a smile* “Oh, no worries. I got all I need. I appreciate your concern for me, but I’ve done this a couple times.”