I work at a popular sandwich shop in a small town. My manager asks me to cover in another town because that store is running low on staff. I’m checking someone out and his total is six or seven dollars and he hands me a twenty. Our drawer only has a couple twenties and some ones.

Me: “Hey, [Manager], I need the safe code so I can grab some change real fast.”

She comes over and tells me the code, I grab out the zipped bag and search for some other bills. Unfortunately, there’re only twenties and ones in there, as well.

Me: “[Manager], we only have twenties and ones, no tens or fives.”

Manager: “We can’t buy either of those, so you’ll have to give change in ones.”

She explains that when we get change from the bank, we can only get it in twenties and ones, so whatever we have in the register from customers is all we have.

I grab the ones and count out the customer’s change. He has been listening to the whole conversation and doesn’t seem to mind about the change.

Me: “Here’s your change. Would you like your receipt?”

Customer: “No, thanks. Now I can go to the titty bar!”

I’m working on an Air Force base. I’m checking on a lift station outside of a building to make sure the pumps are working. As I’m about to open it, an NCO (non-commissioned officer) comes over.

NCO: *Rudely* “What are you doing?”

Me: “I’m checking to make sure that this building’s lift station is functioning properly.”

He continues to hassle me.

Me: *Politely* “Step back, please.”

NCO: “I will not!”

So, I proceeded to open the lid. He got a nose full of what happens when you mix gas station hot dogs and energy drinks, and almost fell over from the smell. I told him to have a nice day and walked back to my truck.

A friend of mine needs a ride to her hometown to pick up some papers from the county courthouse she needs for her ongoing divorce. I take her up there and we get the papers. She wants to leave them at her parents’ house a few blocks from the courthouse for safe-keeping. This is a small town with narrow streets, and halfway there, I come to a two-way stop sign where I encounter a problem.

The house on the corner to my immediate left is some kind of business, and they have a HUGE advertisement sign in the yard on the corner so it can be seen by anyone on that section of road. But it creates the BIGGEST blind spot I’ve personally ever encountered. I cannot see oncoming traffic from my left at ALL. I try to lean forward, but it’s no good. My friend leans as far forward as she can.

Friend: “I can’t see anything. I think it’s fine; you should be able to go.”

The very next thing I remember is white smoke and the smell of oil smoke. I’m finding it a little hard to breathe as something is tight across my chest, and my friend is shaking me and shouting my name. I’m suddenly facing the way I came from and my head is throbbing.

It turns out that when I tried to go, an SUV slammed into my driver’s side door with enough force to turn my heavy car a complete 180, damaging the frame beyond repair. I can see kids on the corner on their phones, probably calling 911. The woman driving the SUV is beside herself with worry for me and her children who are shaken up, and is apologizing profusely.

The police arrive quickly and I’m given some kind of paperwork to fill out. My friend has to point things out and explain them to me because I’m so loopy from the wreck that I’m having a hard time reading and writing. I’ve not left the vehicle yet.

The only clear thing in my head is the story of a horrible wreck my mother was in when I was a child, and her telling me about how she’d been in shock and was able to walk up a steep incline with EMT while both of her legs were broken. I can understand that I’m in shock, so I decide to use it productively and fill out the paperwork while I’m still somewhat lucid.

Then, the tow truck driver arrives on the scene and begins to slam his hand on my window, frantically.

Driver: “MISS! MISS! Oh, my God, you’re okay! Can you move?! Do you need me to cut you out?!”

I hold up the paperwork.

Me: “I need to fill this out.”

Yeah, that is my biggest concern right now. I’m removed from the car, very dizzy, and my friend asks for us to be taken back to the courthouse because her mother is the county clerk. I exchange numbers and information with the lady who hit me and tell her to let me know if her kids are okay later. I call for my mother to come to get me once we get there to take me to the doctor.

They tell me I have a bad concussion and some internal injuries. I’m sent home after being patched up and am told to have someone keep an eye on me for a couple of days. As I’m being driven back to my house, I get a text message.

Driver: “Hey, is this [My Name]?”

Me: “Yeah. You must be [Driver]. Are your kids okay?”

Driver: “Yes. We just left the hospital, and we’re all okay. Are you okay?”

Me: “I have a concussion and a lot of bruising. I should be good later.”

Driver: “That’s good. I’m so sorry for what happened.”

And that is the end of it, I think, beyond maybe some insurance agent. The next morning, I’m woken up by my phone ringing, and it’s [Driver]’s number.

Me: “[Driver]? Hello?”

Man: “Is this the b**** that hit my girlfriend’s SUV?!”

Me: “What? Who are you?”

Man: “My kids are in ICU because of you, you b****! I’m going to f****** sue you for everything you’ve got!”

My concussion has completely stripped me of my verbal filter, so I just don’t have the capacity to try to diffuse the situation or calm him down.

Me: “Dude, I don’t know who the f*** you are, but I have text messages from [Driver] that I have screenshots of where she told me last night that she left the doctor with the kids, and that they were all okay.”

He hung up on me. When I finally got a copy of the report, [Driver] was faulted for the wreck. She admitted she had been breaking the speed limit, she’d had her eyes off the road to turn and yell at her kids for not sitting down, and none of her three children — all under seven — were in car seats or buckled up. 

And that business was forced to take their f****** sign down for good.

I am at a big box store one day shopping. I notice an employee on a ladder trying to change a price sign sitting on top of a cooler, and it’s clearly not working well for her. Every time she tries to make it stand upright, it topples over and nearly to the floor. She’s getting flustered at it and ends up calling for a replacement sign.

Me: “Are you okay up there, miss?”

Employee: “Yeah, just great, thank you.”

Me: “Is it not wanting to stay in place?”

Employee: “No! Our prices are so low that I can’t get it to stay up here!”

I work at a carwash and it’s the prime of winter. We usually close when the temps get below a certain temp to avoid car damages and upset customers, but the company decided we won’t be closing for that anymore. Apparently, money is more important than safety and quality.

It’s about thirteen degrees outside, I just opened up, and my first customer was right there waiting for us to do so. She purchases her wash and goes through, and when she pulls around to vacuum, she notices that ice has formed on her wheels and back windshield. She slams her door, throws down the vacuum hose, and stomps up to the office.

Customer: “I paid [total] and your wash put ice all over my car! I want my money back! You shouldn’t be open for business if you can’t control the ice, you f****** moron! What kind of place is this?!”

Me: “Ma’am, I can’t control the temps any more than you can. It is thirteen degrees outside and we use water to clean your vehicle. Water freezes at or below thirty-two degrees, so I’m just confused as to why you’re confused. I’ll give you your money back, however, as I guess with the heat blaring in your car you maybe forgot we’re in the middle of winter?”

Customer: “It’s not my job as the customer to know what temperature water will freeze at, nor is it my job to know when to wash my car and when not to! You say all this like it’s just common sense, and it’s not!”

Me: “You’re absolutely right. Here’s your money. Have a great day and come back to see us when it warms up!”

She rolled her eyes at me, snatched the money out of my hand, and stomped off back to her car. She got to her car and tried to open the door and it wouldn’t budge. She tried all the doors and none of them would budge. They were frozen shut! 

I was amazed that she didn’t stomp back up to me and say it was all my fault and I needed to pay to have her towed. But she didn’t. She stood out there in the cold waiting for a tow truck to arrive in her shameful karma.

I did wave for her to come up front and I was going to offer for her to sit in the heated office until the tow truck arrived, but she flipped me the bird when she saw me waving.