I work at a small grocery chain on the east coast.

My coworker was going to lunch. He was walking out into the parking lot and did not look both ways before crossing the street. As a car was driving past, he stepped out into the road and walked face-first into the rear driver’s side door.

I know this sounds ridiculous, but I even verified it on camera; he’s just not the brightest bulb.

The woman driving immediately stopped the car and got out yelling. I was walking by, and I went to check to see if everyone was okay. I walked by the woman and knelt down beside [Coworker] to see if he was okay. [Coworker] was laughing, and he shook his head.

Coworker: “I’m okay. I’m not sure what happened, though!”

Meanwhile, the lady was yelling behind me.

Driver: “Aren’t you going to ask how I’m doing? My car was hit!”

I involuntarily laughed because of the absurdity of her being upset that I checked on the person hit by the car and not on the car first. This made the driver even angrier as she stepped forward and yelled at me again.

Driver: “I don’t think this is very funny! My brand-new car is damaged, and you are going to have to pay me for the damage!”

I finished helping [Coworker] up.

Coworker: “My ankle is twisted.”

I looked at the car, which was a late-2000s model car. I tried to see the “damage” and saw a small scratch that could’ve been from [Coworker].

Me: “Well, we will get it taken care of, ma’am. I suggest you call the police to fill out an accident report.”

Driver: “No, you need to pay me for my damages!”

I shook my head and laughed — this time on purpose because I felt that she was being beyond absurd.

Me: “Ma’am, I’m not going to be paying for anything. But if you’d like to call the police and fill out a report, they can handle everything.”

Driver: *Pointing at me* “F*** you, b****!”

Then, she got in her car and peeled out of the parking lot.

I’ve been trying to figure out what happened and why she wouldn’t call the police all day. Luckily, [Coworker] just had a sprained ankle, but the store manager filled out a report and made me write a statement just in case.

When I was sixteen, I worked for a combination donut store/ice cream shop known for its trademarked thirty-one flavors.

The owner hired a convicted arsonist to be the nighttime baker. Fine. But that arsonist continually made lewd and inappropriate suggestions to the female staff regardless of age.

The boss was known to storm into the building and yell at the nearest female to make him a sandwich. Even though I was sixteen, I was often the oldest person in the shop.

Once, some bees swarmed around our air conditioning unit. Smelling the sugar, they came down into the kitchen. They were everywhere. I called the boss to let him know, and he berated me.

Boss: “You’re just being lazy! Someone must have left the back door open again!”

This was before camera phones. The glaze vat was literally full of bees.

Another time, the floor-to-roof windows in the “sunroom” started leaking during some heavy rain. Again, I called the boss. Again, I was called lazy, and again, he did nothing.

He was a jerk, and when I left, I gave him thirty-one reasons why I quit posted to his office door.

I work at a burger place that offers a burger bowl option on the menu; it’s pretty popular. I get a customer who recently went to a chain restaurant and tried their burger bowl, and when she saw we offered one as well, she ordered it. Her husband and daughter ordered something else.

About thirty minutes after she ate 90% of it, she came back angry.

Customer: “This is nothing like the one they serve at [Chain Restaurant]! I want my money back! And a free meal!”

Manager: “We’re not affiliated with [Chain Restaurant] in any way. We’ll gladly give you a refund, but we’ll have to take your food back, and we won’t give you anything for free.”

Customer: *Fuming* “I want to speak to the manager!”

Manager: “I am the manager.”

She flipped out, walked out, brought the car around, and waited there for another hour until her husband and daughter were done with their food. Her husband came up to us.

Customer’s Husband: “I’d like to apologize for my wife’s behavior. There really is no excuse.”

They were so pleasant and understanding that (with the husband’s permission) we gave him and his daughter a small free ice cream. His wife saw the whole thing and came back in, grabbed their ice creams, threw them, and started screaming.

Customer: “You shouldn’t give people free stuff because you don’t know if they have food allergies! Everything my family eats has to be run by me!”

She then pushed her family out the door and never came back.

My bus was delayed by five hours at a long-distance terminal in bumf*** nowhere, rural Florida. I, a short, husky teenager, was dressed in a black button-up, a red tie, and black pants with my eyeliner and mascara from “The Rocky Horror Show” which I had attended before traveling, probably looking a bit worse for wear.

I was sitting for a decent while when I noticed that a lady in her late sixties or early seventies was trying to do something on a self-service kiosk and muttering to herself in Spanish. She seemed to be getting frustrated and was darting her eyes around for employees, but the place was packed with people due to the delays at around 3:00 am, so not many employees were around. Someone eventually did stop to try to help her, but I heard “No hablo Ingles,” causing the person to just look kind of puzzled and walk off.

I was in my third semester of Spanish at the time, so I slowly walked over to the lady.

Me: *In Spanish* “Excuse me. Do you need some help?”

She asked if I spoke Spanish, to which I replied that I was still learning but would do my best. She clapped her chest with a literal “Dios mio!” and we pleasantly worked through what she needed done and went our separate ways.

Someone had taken my seat, so I was just standing around for a minute or two when I got “The Tap” on my shoulder. I turned around to see a woman with an inordinate amount of luggage and a child in tow. The kid was nose-deep in a Nintendo DS and wasn’t really paying attention, but the woman looked me up and down with what appeared to be disgust before demanding:

Woman: “Get my luggage to wherever it has to go!”

I had no idea where that is, and I was honestly super exhausted.

Me: “I’m sorry, but I don’t w—”

Woman: *Cutting me off* “Don’t you f*** with me. This place is going crazy, and every other employee is busy, so even an office guy or supervisor or whatever you are should be out here working with customers. I saw you help that other lady, so you can d*** well help me with my bags.”

I raised my hands and started to explain again that I didn’t know anything and didn’t work there, but she was not having it and started to raise her voice a bit. At that point, her child noticed her volume, looked up at me with what seemed like a mixture of confusion and embarrassment, and then tugged on the woman’s shirt.

Child: “Mom, I don’t think he—”

She turned quickly and gave him a “snit” — not even a “shush,” just that loud click/hiss noise that dog whisperer guy used on TV. Then, she started in on me being a “lazy, unprofessional snowflake” or whatever.

Just then, the elderly lady came up from the side of us, shaking her cane at the woman, and shouted in the best English she could muster:

Elderly Lady: “You leave my nephew alone! He’s a good boy!”

The rude woman turned to see this old lady with straight-up lightning in her eyes and the big bit of mahogany inches from her face, and then she just turned around and left with her kid. No apology, nothing.

Once she and her kid were a fair distance away, I thanked the older woman, and she just motioned for me to follow her.

We went outside to a bench by the entrance and she offered me a cigarette as she lit one up.

Me: “No, thank you.”

She then pulled a thermos out of her purse and offered me some coffee.

Me: “No, thank you.”

But she poured it anyway and commented about how the coffee here was so terrible. It turned out that she was visiting from Guatemala to see her son, who works with a company that imports, blends, and roasts Guatemalan coffee. We’re both coffee snobs, so we just sat and chatted about coffee, our families, and why on earth I was dressed like I was until her bus was called to board. Of course, I offered to help her with her luggage, but she said she only had one small bag and was fine with carrying it.

It was definitely an interesting capstone to a very interesting weekend.

I have an associate of the bank call.

Associate: “You need to reimburse all of my overdraft fees because I’m an employee of the bank and, as such, I am not subject to any fees from the bank whatsoever.”

Me: *Calmly* “First and foremost, I have to treat you as a client.”

She starts to cuss me out and demands to speak to a supervisor. I look at my phone and I can tell the call is coming from the branch.

Me: “Are you on the clock or are you at your branch as a client?”

She cussed me out again and once more demanded to speak to a supervisor. I passed the call to my supervisor, who then reported her to HER manager for being offensive and for taking care of personal matters on the job.