(I work on the Spanish-speaking line at a call center. After 3 minutes of conversation in Spanish with a caller…)

Caller: “Thanks for the help, but can I give you some constructive criticism?”

Me: “I welcome it.”

Caller: “Next time I call the Spanish line, I want to talk in Spanish. So, if you talk to me again, do it in Spanish!”

Me: “We’ve been talking in Spanish for four minutes.”

Caller: *in Spanish* “Don’t lie! I’m not speaking Spanish! You’re not speaking Spanish! Speak Spanish next time!”

Me: “Que le vaya bien.”

(I work at a underwear store that sells both female and male underwear and sleepwear. I’m a female and the customer is a male. The shop is quite small.)

Me: “Hi, welcome. How can I assist you?”

Customer: “Er, do you have any new pyjama shorts?” *points at the ladies section*

Me: “Sorry, we don’t have any new stock currently. Is there something else you would like to buy?”

Customer: “What about the panties?”

Me: “Oh, yes. We have new stocks for those; they just came in yesterday. They are all there.”

Customer: “Oh, yeah, they are new! What size do you think I’m wearing?”

Me: *already in a state of shock* “Oh, I think if it was you a size ‘M’ would be alright.”

Customer: “But I was previously wearing size ‘S’!”

(He pulls down his pants and “shows” me. Some things you can never unsee.)

(I’m working a game booth at a fair. The prize for the day is electric guitars, sans cables and amp.)

Young Boy: *comes up to the booth and looks at the prizes* “So, what are these for?”

Me: “What?”

Young Boy: “The guitars. Are they for a game or something?”

Me: “Oh! No, they’re just regular guitars.”

Young Boy: “Oh…” *walks away*

(An unshaven dirty-looking man carrying a large sack comes running into the main pet room.)

Man: *shouting* “It’s almost Christmas, motherf***ers! And you know what that means!”

Manager: “Uh, Jesus?”

Man: “It’s time for presents, b****!”

Manager: “Can I, uh…”

Man: “I regret that I have but one bag of bones for the puppies! I regret that I have but one bag of tuna for the kittens! I regret that I have but one life to give to these animals!”

(He drops the bag and runs out.)

Manager: “Well, the bag is full of bones and tuna, but I don’t think I can accept food like this. Please wait just a minute; I have to call my boss.”

Manager: *phone* “Yeah, hi. A crazy man just ran in with a bag of… yeah… and then he said that he regrets… oh, really? Every year? Okay, thanks.”

(He hangs up, tidies up the food, and carries it into the back room.)

Manager: “Apparently that was [local celebrity’s] nephew, and he does that every year.”

(I am being served in a gas station, when a drunk customer approaches the clerk.)

Drunk Customer: “Do you sell beer?”

Clerk: “Of course, sir. Right over there.”

(The clerk starts to ring my up my purchases, but the drunk customer shoves them aside and drops a pair of six-packs on the counter.)

Clerk: “I, uh—”

(I nod for him to go ahead. Just then, the door opens behind me and four uniformed police officers come in. There are three police cars parked out front, and one of the cops is quite loudly talking into a radio.)

Drunk Customer: “Hey! You overcharged me. I saw you. Dirty Jew!”

Clerk: “I… um… I’m Irish Catholic.”

Cop: “Sir, do we need to—”

Clerk: “No, no, just let him—”

Drunk Customer: *turns around and faces me* “Yo, little lady! Don’t say a word of what you’re about to see. Got it?” *to clerk* “Y’know the guy who worked here before you? They threw him in jail for dealing heroin.”

Clerk: “Yes, um, I remember that.”

Drunk Man: “So, sell me some f***ing heroin!”

Clerk: “I, uh…” *he takes cover behind the counter*

Cop: “Okay, buddy, we need to-”

(The drunk customer pulls a gun from his pants. It’s small, orange-tipped, and says ‘SUPER FUN CAP GUN’ on the side. However, the cops can’t see it, and they draw their guns.)

Me: *to the cops* “It’s a toy! It’s a cap gun!”

(Hearing this, one cop quickly holsters his gun and tackles the man.)

Drunk Customer: *as he’s dragged away by the cops* “Yo, b****! I told you not to tell! We had a deal, we had a deal!”

(Fast forward some time, and note that both the drunk customer and I have some pretty unique and visible tattoos. I’m at a cafe.)

Waiter: “Excuse me, miss, but I have to ask, I think I recognize your tattoos.”

Me: *noticing his* “Gas station, four cops, cap gun?”

Waiter: “I never got to thank you for intervening on my behalf. I should have been shot that day.”

(We chat for a while. After the conversation, he tells me my meal’s on the house. Unfortunately for him, I’ve gotten the same thing I always do, so I leave the amount, plus a decent tip, anyway. As I’m leaving, he notices what I’ve done.)

Waiter: “Yo, b****! I told you not to pay! We had a deal!” *notices shocked patrons* “Uh, hope you enjoyed your coffee.”