(I am a store manager at a pizza restaurant. We are running a special where you get a one-topping, sixteen-inch pizza for $8, but only with a coupon. A customer has called in to place an order. The employee answering is having trouble and asks me to take over.)

Me: “Hello, sir. I’m the manager. What seems to be the issue?”

Customer: “Your employee won’t give me the discount pizza. I want half cheese, half pepperoni! They said it has to be all, not half! Why is it so hard?!”

Me: “Okay, sir. I have it fixed for you. At the sale price, half cheese, half pepperoni. Did you want anything else?”

Customer: “It better be at the sale price! I can’t believe this!” *starts to rant again*

Me: “Sir, I’m sorry you are upset. But I have everything just how you want it now. I’ve bumped you up, so your order will be ready in 15 minutes. Did you want anything else?”

Customer: “No. That’s it.”

Me: “Okay, sir, thank you. Now, please remember: if you do not bring the coupon, it will be full price.”

(The customer hangs up. I already know this guy will not bring that coupon. I have an employee who likes to mouth off a bit.)

Me: “[Employee #1], you want a chance to be snarky?”

Employee: “YEAH!”

Me: “I have a customer coming in for this order. I’m personally making it, so it will be perfect. You be extra nice, unless he doesn’t bring that coupon. Then it’s full price, no ifs, ands, or buts. Got it? If you need me, I’ll be doing prep.”

(He smiles gleefully, and the customer comes in. Sure enough, no coupon.)

Employee: “Sorry, without the coupon it’s [full price].”

Customer: “But the coupon said $8!”

Employee: “But you don’t have the coupon.”

Customer: “Ugh, you guys are awful! First, you can’t take an order! Then, you won’t give me the price.”

Employee: “Okay, I will just cancel the order, then.”

Customer: “WHAT? NO! I promised my family pizza.”

Employee: “Well, that will be [full price].”

(The customer grumbled and paid. I laughed, and gave the employee some of my tips after the customer left.)

(A typical incident from my childhood. This is in the early 90s. I’m about nine or ten at most.)

Mom: “Okay, [My Name], if you behave yourself all this week, keep all your things neat, do your homework, don’t bring any complaints from school, and stay quiet at home and don’t bother us, I’ll buy you any toy you want from that toy store you’ve been asking to go to.”

Me: “Really? You’ll let me get any toy I want?”

Mom: “Yes, I promise you can pick any toy you want.”

Me: “Okay! I promise I’ll behave!”

(I behave myself, make extra effort to be neat, do my homework, and stay extra quiet at home, as well as at school, so as not to draw trouble from bullies that sometimes results in me being blamed by teachers. At the end of the week, Mom takes me to the toy store.)

Mom: “Okay, pick the toy you want.”

(I see a packaged set of three very cute doll toys, one of those where they’re the same appearance and everything, but graduated sizes; one is maybe twelve inches tall, the second nine inches, and the third, six.)

Me: “Oh, those look so awesome! I want that doll set, Mom!”

Mom: “Hmm, let’s see…” *checks the price* “Oh, you know, [My Name], I don’t think so; that’s a bit expensive…”

(It’s 20 shekels; about $5.50.)

Mom: “Oh, look here! Here’s another set of dolls! It’s almost exactly the same! And it’s only fifteen shekels! Let’s get you this, instead!”

(This other set has only two dolls in it, and what’s more, it’s quite obvious to me even at that age that these dolls are of significantly poorer quality; they’re uglier and much more rough-looking in shape, color, hair, clothes, joint articulation, etc.)

Me: “No! I want the three-doll set! This one is ugly and only has two dolls!”

Mom: “But [My Name], they’re nearly the same exact thing, really! And they’re so much cheaper! We’ll get these ones.”

Me: “No! I want the three-doll set that I picked! You promised that I could pick any toy I wanted!”

Mom: “Really, [My Name], calm down right now! Stop misbehaving! I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve such a troublesome child! You have to be sensible! I just don’t have the money to waste on useless nonsense like expensive toys for you!”

Me: “But I want that set! You promised I could get the toy I wanted! That’s the one I want! I don’t want that other ugly one!”

Mom: “I don’t care what you think I promised! Just shut the hell up already and stop embarrassing me! I’m buying this one and that’s final! You’re going to play with these dolls and like them!”

(She angrily grabbed the package off the shelf and went to pay, all while forcefully dragging me along by the hand. I was tearing up, on the verge of crying, but she glared at me threateningly, clearly promising that if I made any more of a scene there would be dire consequences. I was extremely upset and disappointed. The two-doll set turned out to be just as ugly and poorly made as it looked in the package. I listlessly “played around” with them once and then abandoned them. Then, in the future, this was used by my mom as further ammunition against me in arguments; she would bring up toys like that set to claim that ANY toy purchases for me were an empty waste of money, since I immediately abandoned them, and that I was clearly a poorly-behaved, tantrum-throwing child due to incidents like what happened in that toy store, so I didn’t deserve any new toys, anyway.)

(My manager has just gotten a call that her daughter has been in an accident. She asks me to reschedule her appointments so she can go meet her family. At this point she doesn’t know much of what is going on because no one wants to tell her anything until she gets there. There is only one appointment left, and although it is five minutes from the appointment time, I am sure that just by saying the manager had an emergency the client will understand.)

Client: “Hello?”

Me: “Hi, this is [Office]. I see here you have an appointment with [Manager] in a few minutes, but she’s asked me to call and see if you can drop off the information and she can work on it. Or, I can reschedule you for a later time; an emergency has arisen and she won’t be able to stay much longer.”

Client: “ARE YOU F****** KIDDING ME?! I set an appointment with [Manager] a couple weeks ago, and she waits until five minutes before the appointment to call to say she has an emergency?”

Me: “Yes, the emergency just happened and she needs to rush out of the office as soon as possible to deal with it, so she gave the opt—”

Client: “NO, THAT IS UNACCEPTABLE. WHY IS [MANAGER] DOING THIS TO ME?! If I wanted to drop it off, I would have done so at the office that’s right next to me and not have driven this far for this! WHAT EMERGENCY DOES SHE HAVE THAT SHE CAN’T SEE ME?!”

(My manager and I are basically family, so I’m about in tears knowing there is nothing more I can do, and I’m still being yelled at by a customer.)

Me: “MA’AM, [MANAGER] NEEDS TO RUN OUT OF THE OFFICE BECAUSE HER DAUGHTER HAS BEEN IN A CAR ACCIDENT. CAN WE RESCHEDULE YOU FOR A LATER TIME?”

Client: “Sure, I’ll call and reschedule.”

(One of my coworkers who is trying to get information from the accident is within earshot of this conversation)

Coworker: “Does she feel like an a**, or what?”

(I am a year-ten student in a basic sport class, which everyone at my school is required to take. Due to a medical condition I’ve had from birth, my hip is very weak, and my hip joint is not quite in place. Despite being put in corrective harnesses from birth, my hip will never be quite right. Normally this just means I have low stamina, and my hip aches when I’ve been walking a lot. Recently I had an injury where I got a tear in a tendon on my hip, and so I have a note from my mother explaining to my teacher that I cannot do sport.)

Me: *handing my teacher the note* “I’m sorry, miss, but I can’t do sport today, or for the rest of the term. I have a hip injury.”

Teacher: *reading the note quickly* “You don’t look injured. You can’t just get your mum to write you an excuse; I only let people who are actually injured get out of sport.”

(You cannot tell I have this injury by looking at me, only from x-rays.)

Me: “I understand that; I am injured. I have a pre-existing condition, from birth, which has flared up at the moment. I’m seeing a physiotherapist to help treat it, but it’s not better yet.”

Teacher: “I’ll let you off this once, but next week you have to do sport.”

(I have physio every Wednesday night, and sport on Thursday mornings. My current treatment is dry needling — acupuncture but with more pain and stabbing — which leaves me so sore and bruised I can hardly move. This happens the following week:)

Me: “Miss, I have another note. This one is from my mum and my doctor. My doctor doesn’t want me doing any sport until I’m better.”

Teacher: “This isn’t good enough; you can’t just get out of sport.”

Me: “I’m sorry, miss, but I literally cannot do sport. I can’t bend over, and even sitting down is painful. Swimming isn’t possible for me right now.”

Teacher: “If you don’t do any sport, I can’t pass you. You have to do sport to pass. Get changed before I give you a note home.”

(I end up getting in the pool that day, even though I can hardly move. My mum is furious and sends my teacher an email that includes a full 16 years of my medical history, with x-rays from my birth showing my defect, up until the most recent doctor’s letters. The reply says that I still have to do something, and I have to come in on the last day of term and complete three laps of the pool to pass. I show up on that day with two other girls in my class.)

Me: “Why are you guys here? Did the teacher threaten to fail you?”

Girl #1: “Yeah, but it’s fine. I can swim; I just didn’t want to.”

Me: “How did you get out of swimming in class, then?”

Girl #2: “It’s easy; I just lied and said I’m allergic to chlorine. [Teacher] didn’t even ask for a note!”

(I ended up just passing that class, and moved onto year 11 where I never had to do sport again. I went back a year ago and that teacher is still working there. I will never understand why she seemed to hate me so much. )

(I’m a customer, in line and waiting at the register. A woman is screaming at the cashier for so long that another lane is opened up for everyone else. As I’m putting my things on the counter, the lady stops shouting after the manager is involved, and I hear this conversation from a mom and her son behind me:)

Boy: “Can I have a candy?”

Mom: “No, you already have one.”

Boy: “What if I throw a fit?”

Mom: “When has that ever given anyone anything?”

Boy: “It gave that lady a discount!” *pointing at the lady from the other lane*

(Needless to say, she looked ashamed, and the rest of the small shop had a good laugh.)