(I’m waiting for my train, reading a book and giggle-snorting about it. An old lady is sitting on the other end of the bench.)

Old Lady: “Excuse me, dear, but what are you reading?”

(I hold up the book so she can see the cover, which says, “TERRY PRATCHETT – FEET OF CLAY,” and has cover art featuring a spooky bat and an angry-looking, red-eyed golem holding a giant cleaver striding out of an inferno toward a dwarf, a swordswoman, and a troll hand-wielding a siege weapon.)

Old Lady: *triumphantly* “Ah! A romance novel!”

(I’m shopping for a dress shirt for graduation. We buy a shirt, but when we open up the package at home, we find out that the sleeves are ridiculously long on me, so we go to return it. We are greeted by the same employee who helped us in purchasing it.)

Employee #1: “Is something wrong?”

Mom: “It doesn’t fit.”

Employee #1: *perplexed look* “What do you mean?”

Mom: “The sleeves are way too long.”

(The employee measures the length of my arms, which are the same as what the package says.)

Employee #1: “It should be right. Why don’t you try it on?”

(I put the shirt on, and the sleeves are way too long.)

Employee #1: *really confused* “Oh, no, that’s definitely not right.”

(He takes the shirt to another employee and measure the sleeves on it, which are a good six inches longer than labelled, and they take the shirt to the back.)

Employee #1: “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Employee #2: “Me, neither!”

Employee #1: “Hey, [Employee #3]! Check out the shirt [Employee #2] has! It’s a 39-inch arm length! It was labelled as 33 inches.”

Employee #3: “Really?!”

Employee #1: “Yeah! I didn’t even know we carried those.”

Employee #3: “We don’t!”

(The staff’s interest and confusion with this shirt were quite entertaining!)

One winter, my friend was clearing away snow from her driveway and, due to the nice temperature and suitable texture of snow, she had a whim to make a snowman. Despite being a middle-aged recent widow, she was out there for a couple hours playing, like a child. Good for her right? Very sweet.  

Well, after she got the basic snowman made, she wasn’t done having fun, so she decided to test her artistic skills by making the sculpture a bit more advanced. Being Buddhist, she chose to make it into the shape of a classic Buddha statue. It turned out pretty nice.  

Finally done, she went inside and was sipping hot chocolate and enjoying her great mood when there was a knock at the door. It was the police!  

They apologised for bothering her, but explained that their policies force them to intervene in all complaints, regardless of whether any laws were broken. She was terribly anxious and confused, wondering what she may have done.  

Her neighbors had called the police because they didn’t think the snow Buddha should be allowed. After all, it was on the front lawn, “where children might see it”! How terrible that would be, for Bible Belt kids to find out that non-Christians exist. They might grow up to think that cultural diversity is okay, and that people different from their families are interesting equals rather than “others” to be shunned. Yes, let’s protect those kids.  

My poor friend was a lot less likely to enjoy time in her yard after that. 

Imagine thinking it’s a police matter that someone’s failing to hide their minority status.

(My husband and I are on the bus today, heading home from the nearby train station. I have a mobility issue and use a cane, so we sit in the two front handicapped seats. Our driver is clearly training, so there is a supervisor with her. As we approach a stop, we see another bus pulled off to the side, with three police cars and the passengers standing at the side of the road. Our bus stops, the supervisor gets off, and passengers pile on. It’s a small bus, so it fills right up. No big deal. The supervisor is talking to the police officers and the driver is waiting for him. Then, from behind me I hear a woman.)

Passenger: “Let’s gooooo! Why aren’t we mooooving?!”

Driver: *very nicely* “We have to wait for the other staff member to get back on. He’s just talking to the police.”

(My husband and I start chatting with the driver. I tell her the route is normally “very tame” and this stuff never happens. This is her first time driving this route. Less than one minute later, the same woman starts again:)

Passenger: “It’s taken an hour to come from [Street]! I have an appointment! YOU JUST CAN’T TRUST TRANSIT!” 

(We’re actually ON the Avenue she’s talking about, so I don’t entirely understand what she’s saying, but I say nothing. I’m already peeved, thinking I’m going to have to listen to this entitled woman for however long we sit here, but I say nothing. Sixty seconds later she starts again:)

Passenger: “Why can’t we leave him here with the cops and go! I HAVE AN APPOINTMENT!”

(And this is when I get… testy.)

Me: “We can’t go because we’re waiting for the supervisor to get back on the bus! That’s why we can’t leave!”

Passenger: “Well, there’s no need to be snippy about it! I have to—”

Me: “We’re all in the same position as you so there’s no point in complaining about something that’s completely beyond your control.”

(The mouthy woman shuts up and we sit in silence. Less than one minute later, the supervisor comes back on the bus. It turns out that another passenger on the stopped bus punched a woman sitting in the front — handicapped — seat and the supervisor was a witness and had to talk to the officers. The offending passenger was arrested. There are sounds of surprise from the people on the bus as the supervisor explains.)

Passenger: “Well, I didn’t know!” 

Me: “You were on that bus! Maybe if you’d shut your mouth you’d know.” 

(I am standing with several coworkers at my kiosk. We only have six employees, so it’s not unusual to have some customers want to speak with somebody they’ve spoken with before. Sometimes this is something important, like a sale, or a simple question about how to use their phone. A customer approaches.)

Me: “Hello! How’s it going?”

Customer: “Is [Coworker] here?”

Me: “He actually just went on lunch! Sorry! He’ll be back in about an hour, but—”

Customer: *sharply* “Well, does he have a cell phone?”

Me: “Uh… yes. But we don’t make a point of calling people in from their lunches unless it’s extremely urgent.”

Customer: “So, call him, then.”

Me: “Can I ask what this is about?”

Customer: “Call him.”

Me: “Sir, I’m not going to call him back from his lunch without knowing if this is something we can help with, or if you need him specifically.”

Customer: “He’s probably eating in here anyway. Call him, now.”

Me: “I will not. [Coworker] never eats here, so he’s not inside the building. I will tell him you’re here, but I’m not going to call him back unless you tell me why you would like to speak with him.”

Customer: “I don’t need to tell you anything.”

Me: “I’m just trying to help you. We can at least get you started with whatever you need to talk with [Coworker] about, or we can give you a call when he comes back in.”

Customer: “I’m done speaking to you!”

Me: “Perfect. He’ll be back in an hour, then.”

(I stepped away from the customer and continued about my work. After about ten minutes, he asked a coworker an extremely simple question and stormed out. My coworker, coming back from lunch, asked me why he got an email about the “rude little girl” working at the kiosk.)