I am managing a liquor store and am one of three staff at the checkout on Christmas Eve. Lines are right around the store, almost back out the door. People walk in, see the line, and consider leaving, but I call out:

Me: “Heya! Just saying, it’s gonna be very busy everywhere, and we’ve been getting through the line fairly quickly.”

Most people are patient, and the three of us staff just have our heads down scanning, packing, and getting through it. I have just finished with one customer and called out for the next, but they don’t hear me, so I call again.

A woman who was close to the checkout but not in line sees her chance, grabs a couple of bottles, and gets to the checkout a second before the customer who was next.

Me: “Sorry, ma’am, this gentleman was next. If you get in the line, we will get to you as quickly as we can.”

Customer: “I’ve been here long enough already.”

Me: “We are very busy; perhaps you should have gotten in line sooner.”

Customer: “Perhaps I will shop somewhere else!”

Me: “Not a problem, ma’am. You have a great Christmas.”

I gave her a big smile, grabbed the bottles, placed them on the bench behind me, said hello to the next customer, put my head down, and began scanning his items.

She stood there for a moment before walking off. Unfortunately, I only got that initial look at her face, but after she left, the other customer burst out laughing and told me, “Nice job, mate.”

I was looking for baking powder, and I couldn’t find it among the other baking ingredients, so I flagged a nearby worker. She was an older woman, so experienced in life, if not in retail.

Me: “Can you help me?”

Worker: “I’ve only just started working here, but I will try.”

Me: “I am looking for baking powder, and I thought it would be here.”

She squatted down and examined the shelf.

Worker: “Yes, I would have thought so, too. It’s not there.”

And then she just walked away. I stood there like an idiot for a couple of minutes, thinking she was going to return with a more experienced colleague. But no, apparently, we were just two strangers who briefly puzzled over an insoluble puzzle before going our separate ways. She had a lot of I-don’t-work-here energy, but I swear, she was wearing a uniform and refilling a shelf when I interrupted her.

I gave up and decided to make a cheesecake, instead.

I just gave birth by C-section. Two weeks later, I end up with a temperature and am sent to hospital. I am sent for an X-ray of my chest because of a cough.

The X-ray tech is going through the usual questions. My new baby is with me as he is breastfed on demand so we are not able to be separated.

X-ray Tech: “Any chance you might be pregnant?”

Me: “Gosh, I hope not. That one was cut out two weeks ago. It would be pretty amazing if there was another one still in there.”

X-ray Tech: “Sorry, I forgot you were that one.”

I work at a local science centre. It’s a not-for-profit organisation, and a lot of tourists come in. We have a brand new exhibit space that costs extra to enter. It’s pretty cool in there, and it’s very popular with the tourists who come from all over the state to see it.

We get pretty slammed when it’s busy. We present shows in the exhibit space and run three sessions a day. We can only seat about forty to fifty people in there as a maximum, and the tickets can sell out pretty quickly. Some people get really cranky about the unavailability of tickets when they just expect to be able to walk in through the door five minutes before the session starts and get tickets even though people have been booking online and calling us up for days beforehand.

An older lady walks in with her family. The second session of the day is about to start, but it’s completely booked out.

Me: “Hi! How are you today?”

Customer: “Hello, my family and I would like tickets to the 1:00 pm exhibit session.”

Me: “Oh, I see. I’m afraid we have sold out all of our tickets for that session; however, I do have many tickets available for the 3:00 pm session!”

The customer stares at me blankly.

Customer: “Oh, really? That’s so disappointing. We’ve literally come all this way just to see the exhibit show. Can you just fit us in there?”

Me: “I’m afraid we only have enough room in there for a certain number of people, and we have sold all of our available tickets for that session. If you want to catch the 3:00 pm session, we still have lots of stuff to do around our centre while you wait.”

The customer looks annoyed and disappointed.

Customer: “So, there’s nothing you can do? You can’t fit us in? We came here just for this. I don’t understand why we can’t just join that session.”

She’s looking at me expectantly, clearly waiting for me to bend the rules for her.

Me: “I’m very sorry, but we do have a limit on the number of tickets that we sell because it is a small, dark space and we want all of our customers to be safe in there.”

Customer: “Don’t worry about it. We don’t want to wait that long. These tickets should have been available to us.”

They walked out the door, and I was left wondering where the f*** people get their entitlement from. They seriously act like they’re the only family coming to visit us, and they should be able to get whatever they want.

Many years ago, I worked as a boarding house assistant and assistant teacher in a boarding school in Australia. During the holidays, I would stay at the school. I was the only one there, and it was slightly creepy wandering the empty rooms and corridors of the boarding house. There was a TV room, which was a large empty room with large windows, a TV in a cabinet in the middle of the room, and a sofa in front of it. I would get VHS tapes from the local library so I could watch movies on those long lonely nights.

One night, I rented “Sleepy Hollow”. I was sitting in the middle of this dark and empty room, while a storm was raging outside. Rain pounded against the windows, and I really regretted not pushing the sofa up against the wall so there would be one less direction the monsters could come from.

Suddenly, during the scene when the Hessian emerges from the tree, I heard a loud bang. The door had opened, and in the doorway I saw a tall figure in a long, black, shiny coat holding something in their hand, backlit by the light in the corridor.

I shrieked, jumped, and fell off the sofa. I lay there awaiting a gruesome death. Then, the light was switched on and the caretaker (wearing a rain slicker and holding a torch) asked:

Caretaker: “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

It turned out that nobody had told him that someone was staying over the holidays. Since then, I have only ever watched horror films with all the lights on. And the sofa against the wall.