(I am a teacher. We are lining up for a fun field trip, and my kids are having a hard time listening up.)

Me: “You know, guys, if you don’t listen up, then we won’t go.”

Student: “You wouldn’t actually do that.”

(I shoot a look to the student that says this, taking him by surprise, as he obviously thought I wouldn’t hear him.)

Student: “I just mean that it wouldn’t be fair to us if we didn’t go, so we should go even if we’re not behaving well.”

(I continue to stare at him. Other students notice how I’m reacting and start to quiet down to see what’s going on.)

Student: “I mean, you should care about us having fun on the field trip. Not about listening.”

(Finally, he stops talking as I continue to stare at him. The entire class is now silent, wondering how I’ll respond. I then gesture to the classroom we just left.)

Me: “Do you see this classroom, [Student]?”

Student: “Uh, yes.”

Me: “The inside of this classroom represents all the cares I have about that statement you made. I hope you notice that it’s empty.”

(I have been working at my current job for five years. I have been in my office for over an hour, when someone I have never seen before comes in and tries staring me down.)

Me: “Can I help you?”

Man: “You’re at my desk.”

Me: “Your desk?”

Man: “Yes. MY desk!”

Me: “Who told you it was yours?”

Man: “[Manager].”

Me: “He hasn’t told me about any change. Are you sure you have the right office?”

Man: “That is my desk. I work HERE!”

(I decide to call my manager to resolve the situation. He sounds just as confused as I feel and agrees to come over. He recognises the man instantly.)

Manager: “[Man], what you are doing here?”

Man: “Finally! [Manager], what’s this a**hole doing in my office?”

Manager: *looking between us* “What?”

Man: “What is this p****—” *pointing accusingly* “—doing at my desk?”

Manager: “[Man], you haven’t worked here for a year. You just disappeared one morning, leaving the rest of us to pick up the pieces.”

Man: “What are you talking about?”

Manager: “You left in February; [My Name] replaced you in June. I just thought you had found something else, and didn’t want to stick it here for another month. You don’t work here anymore.”

Man: “So, you just decided to fire me without warning?! That’s illegal. I’ll be chatting with [Senior Manager] about this. Your a** is cooked!”

(The man rushes out, screaming at the top of his lungs about the injustices he’s faced, calling my manager a crook and waste of a human being.)

Manager: “I don’t know what to say. I tried everything to get in touch with him. He didn’t even return his work laptop or phone, and the department was charged because of it.”

(I later heard that the man did, in fact, try to contact the senior manager, by barging into his office about 30 miles away. They had to call the police to have him removed. The work laptop and phone were found in his car, both in states of disrepair. We’ve all agreed he was rather stupidly trying to sneak them back in, but when he saw me he panicked and decided he was in too deep to admit what he was trying to do.)

(I’m at a restaurant with my husband and his parents, along with our six-week-old daughter. She is currently happily asleep in her carrier. We’ve been seated and are waiting for our waitress. The waitress arrives, calling everyone “honey” and “sweetie.”)

Waitress: “Oh, what a cute little baby! So quiet.”

Me: *proud* “Yeah, she’s six weeks old. She’s a pretty good baby!”

Waitress: “My kids were never quiet like this! Ain’t she gonna wake up?”

Me: “She just ate, so probably not…”

Waitress: “Maybe when your food comes out she’ll wake up!”

(She then went and got our drinks. She often came back to see if my daughter was still sleeping. When she brought our meals, she SLAMMED my plate down, then checked the carrier. At this point, it was evident that she was TRYING to wake the baby, who was still happily asleep. The kicker came when the waitress brought our bill and actually intentionally reached out and smacked the back of the carrier to try to wake her! The carrier was out of the way, and the waitress wasn’t just reaching for something and accidentally bumped it. Luckily, my daughter continued to sleep. We still tipped, but who insists on trying to wake a baby?! A manager would have been called over swiftly if she had woken up my daughter!)

(I am a cashier. Everything is going fine with this particular transaction, until we get to the total.)

Me: “Okay, ma’am, your total is $255.62.”

Customer: “What? That cannot be right! Did you scan everything correctly?”

Me: *swing the screen towards her so she can see* “I don’t see anything overcharged or doubled here. It looks fine, but I can check.”

Customer: “No, you should know what you overcharged! This has to at least be $100 over!”

Me: “Ma’am, you purchased 139 items. That makes them about two dollars each on average, which sounds about right to me.”

Customer: “Did you take off the sales?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. The computer automatically does it to each item.” *I point to where the computer has subtracted sales from items that were scanned* “I don’t think that it would have missed enough to cause $100 difference.”

Customer: “You must have scanned everything twice!”

Me: “Ma’am, that is almost impossible to do. The computer would have caught on.”

Customer: “Then there is something wrong with your computer! Do it by hand!”

Me: “Um… excuse me?”

Customer: “Ring up my items by hand!”

Me: “Ma’am, you have over a hundred items, and customers are already waiting. I have offered to make sure nothing was overcharged, and I have not seen anything that appears to be wrong.”

Customer: “DO IT BY HAND!” *she is actually screaming by this point*

Me: “Ma’am, that simply is not possible. I can take some items off and bring your—”

Customer: “So, you did overcharge me!”

Me: “No. Not at all. I can return items that you think you may not need. That will bring your total down. If you would like, we can quickly do that.”

Customer: “But I need this stuff!”

Me: “Then I need you to pay the total.”

Customer: “And I need you to take off the extra charges!”

(My manager, by this time, has wandered over. He looks over the list on the computer.)

Manager: “Ma’am, there are no overcharges. Once you pay and have your receipt, you will see that this is correct.”

(The woman, fuming, finally pays and storms out. Five minutes later, she struts up to me, pushes into the cashier’s booth, and shoves her receipt into my face.)

Customer: “LOOK! You did overcharge me! Look!”

Me: “Ma’am, what you are pointing out is a can of beans marked at $1.05.”

Customer: “Yes! And they were on sale!”

Me: *pointing to the “-10” on the receipt, showing that the coupon was taken off* “No, the coupon subtraction is right there. That would only be ten cents, not the hundred dollars you believed earlier. Now, please leave this area, since only cashiers should be behind the register.”

Customer: “You cannot just admit that you overcharged me! You should be fired! You stole from me! You are a thief!”

Manager: “Ma’am, I have contacted the police. I cannot have you in the cashier area, or badgering employees. I am going to have to ask you to leave, or you will be removed!”

Customer: “Good! The police won’t let you get away with stealing! I WANT MY MONEY BACK!”

(She ended up being escorted out by the police, screaming the whole time that our store was a scam. I have never seen anything like that since.)

(I am an independently contracted window artist. On this occasion, I am painting the glass double doors at the entrance of a restaurant. When customers approach the double doors, I usually open one for them, because otherwise, they tend to stand there confusedly, despite the full functionality of the door I’m NOT working on. This time, however, I’m standing on a chair and concentrating hard, so when a middle-aged woman approaches the entrance, I just smile and gesture to the other door. She clears her throat rather loudly and pointedly.)

Me: “You can go ahead through this other door, ma’am.”

(I return to my work. After I moment, I realize she hasn’t moved. I look back and find her GLARING at me.)

Customer: “Well?”

Me: “Ma’am?”

Customer: “Aren’t you going to open this door for me? Are you new or something? Your customers are more important than your silly drawings.”

(I had almost been ready to get down from my chair and open the door for her, but after this, I’m less willing.)

Me: “Ma’am, I’m not an employee. I just come here to do the art. As I said, you are welcome to go in through this door here.”

Customer: “That’s no excuse! They’re paying you, aren’t they? That makes you an employee!”

Me: “Ma’am, it is not in my job description to open doors for customers, especially when I am standing on a wobbly chair.”

(The woman huffed loudly and yanked open the door I AM WORKING ON, slamming it into my chair and causing me, in my flail for balance, to drag my hand through my fresh paint and ruin my work. I told the manager what happened, and she showed me how to lock the doors individually so I could lock the one I am working on. When the woman approached the door to leave, she deliberately tried to shove my door open again. Instead, she just slammed HERSELF hard against the locked door. She then opened the other door and rushed out without looking at me. It sounded like that door hurt!)