(I work in a tool and parts store as a cashier, and 90% of the clientele is male. I’m a shy, socially-awkward female but I’m usually very good at faking it and being friendly. This is a Thursday afternoon, and while it’s not overly busy, it’s been steady. I’m about to go on my lunch break when an older man comes up to my till, ignoring the fact that my light is off and I’m gathering my things. I’m not the type to turn a customer away or make them wait for another cashier, so I smile at him as he starts tossing his merchandise on the counter. This is a store where we collect phone numbers to save copies of receipts. Every customer is asked for their phone number when they check out. They can refuse and we don’t push, but most see the benefit to it since we sell some expensive pieces of equipment, and they can return or exchange an item if we have an electronic copy of their receipt.)

Me: *in a friendly voice* “Hello, sir, how are—”

Customer: *cuts me off in a very rude tone* “—I’m good, since you didn’t bother to ask. How are you?”

Me: *startled, as I was just starting to ask* “Um, I’m good, sir. How—”

Customer: *cuts me off again* “Don’t bother with that! Just check me out already!”

Me: *getting nervous* “O-Okay. Can I have your phone number, please?”

Customer: *mutters last four digits*

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but you only gave me the last four digits. The system needs the full phone number in order to bring up your profile.”

Customer: “That’s all I’m giving you!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t bring up your profile without your whole phone number. If you’d like, you can just hang onto the receipt in case you need to return or exchange—”

Customer: “No, I always lose those! Put it in! I gave you my number!”

(I try to explain again how the system works, but he keeps arguing that he doesn’t want to give me more info. At the same time, he won’t let me skip the phone number and proceed with the sale, because he insists he always loses receipts and he wants an electronic copy. A part of me wants to just say I pulled up his information and skip it, but he would know because the receipt prints the customers name on it if a profile is attached to the sale, as well as my name and cashier number. We go around in circles for ten minutes until he spits the number at me, so fast that I can barely catch it. I input the number and finally start ringing his items through. The whole transaction is tense and awkward, and he grumbles at me the entire time about invading his privacy. When I finish bagging his items, I put them up on the counter and tell him the total. Note: We have a customer screen that shows items and prices while they’re scanned, and he’s been watching it the entire time.)

Customer: “There’s no way it’s that high! You’re overcharging me! Look, the total is [amount], not [higher amount I quoted him].”

(I am starting to feel shaky, because I don’t handle confrontations well. I look at the screen, and he’s pointing to the subtotal before taxes are added.)

Me: “That’s the subtotal, sir, and if you look underneath that, it tells you the tax is [amount], so that makes the total [original quoted amount].”

Customer: “No! That has to be wrong! Void the transaction and start again!”

(The managers are in a meeting right now and I can’t call them for help. We’re also not allowed to refuse a customer, and even if we were, I’d be too afraid to try. I void the transaction and go through the hassle of getting his phone number again because I’ve forgotten it at this point. I then start ringing his items through with the hopes that he’ll give up and leave if I do what he wants. He complains the whole time about how incompetent I am, and stops me after I scan each item and double-checks the price. I have to call for several price checks because he thinks I’m overcharging him, and every time the price on the register turns out to be correct. In the end, his total is the same as before. I’m already an hour late for lunch and I’m thoroughly upset for how I’ve been treated when I’ve done nothing wrong.)

Customer: *snottily* “I still think you’re overcharging me somehow. I’m going to look at the receipt when I get home, and if there’s anything off I’m coming straight back here and talking to a manager about you!”

(I don’t trust myself to say anything at this point. I get the transaction set up and he pays with his credit card.)

Me: *trying to smile and thankful it’s finally over* “Here’s your receipt, sir. Have a nice day.”

Customer: *scowling and storming out* “It would have been nicer if I didn’t have to deal with you!”

(After he left, I practically ran to the break room to compose myself. Thankfully, the customers throughout the second half of my shift were pleasant to deal with.)

I work in the security industry, as a concierge in a condominium.

A few years back, a coworker was told to train a new guy who was rather dimwitted, slow to learn, and annoying. I know because I had him for training for one shift.

[Coworker] told me later that he got tired of training the new guy and went to the condo party room to watch television, leaving the very inept trainee to manage the lobby desk by himself. I warned [Coworker] that the party room looked out onto the back patio where the BBQ grill was, and that the curtains were very see-through. If a resident went out on the back patio and peered through the windows, they’d see it was a security officer sitting there watching television, which we were obviously not paid to do, and would complain, getting us all in trouble. He laughed and waved it off.

He told me the next day that he was forced to continue training the same inept guy, so he ran off to watch television again. I warned him, again, not to do that.

The next time he bragged to me about watching television on duty, I just contacted my Client Service Manager — the security company manager responsible for our team — and told him what [Coworker] was doing. I’d reported other security officers for risking the team with their own personal antics. I don’t like being a snitch; I like having a stable work place where fellow officers aren’t screwing it up for us by being selfish d**ks.

Apparently, [Coworker] was called into the office and when told to explain himself, said that yes, he had been watching television, and then went on to say that I was spreading crazy gossip about him to anyone who would listen, and that I was mean, so wasn’t that worse than his television-watching offense? For the record, I had never gossiped about him, nor was I ever mean to him. I just asked him to stop risking our jobs with his unprofessional behavior, and he blew me off.

I got called into HQ the next day. That manager had a form for me to sign. “[My Name]? Why does it seem you like to backstab other officers? [Coworker] told me about you gossiping about him, and I see you’ve reported other officers who needed disciplining. That’s why I’m having you sign this form where you acknowledge that you’re a gossip, and you swear to never be caught for gossiping ever again, or more serious consequences will happen. This will go into your permanent file. Do you understand?”

I argued that I had never gossiped about [Coworker], and those other security officers had been problems, and my manager said, “Oh, really? Because [Coworker] said you have. Why would he come in here and lie to my face? He sounded very sincere every time I’ve had to speak with him, and you have been involved with the disciplining of several officers. No… I think you are the one lying because you enjoy getting other guards in trouble. Sign this or face disciplinary action.”

I was so floored and cowed that I stupidly signed the d***ed thing just so I could get the hell out of there.

Thankfully, not long after, this manager was fired for being caught on camera cheating on his wife with residents in buildings when he was there for manager meetings. No one cared he was cheating. They cared that he was there for a meeting with the building’s property manager but instead was seen feeling up a resident of the building. Other officers said he would sometimes touch female officers, too. My company finally got fed up and fired him, but not before he did a ton of damage to many innocent officers.Thankfully, I got out of that company, and I am now working for a much better local security company. I will never forget what that a**hole manager did.

(It is the nineties and I am ten. It’s morning before school in winter. I’ve just gotten dressed and got all my things together. I walk to school by myself.)

Mom: “Come here, [My Name]. I bought you a new winter hat and want to try how it fits on you.”

Me: “Not now, Mom; I need to use the bathroom.”

Mom: “Never mind that. Just come here for a minute; I really want to see how it looks on you!”

Me: “But Mom!” *it is way too awkward, as well as hot inside, to go to the bathroom with a winter hat on*

Mom: “Oh, come on. It’s just one minute! You can go to the bathroom after we try it on. You can take the hat off right afterwards, I promise!”

(I give up and let her put it on my head. She fusses with it for several minutes, adjusting the hat and my hair this way and that way, before finally declaring she’s satisfied.)

Mom: “There! That looks so nice! I knew it was a good purchase! You’ll wear it to school today.”

(I then take the hat off to go to the bathroom.)

Mom: *immediately starts screeching like a banshee* “What the hell are you doing?? You ungrateful brat! How dare you take it off?!” *and on and on in this vein, with some cursing*

(I’m shocked and take a step back.)

Mom: *threateningly* “Don’t you dare go anywhere! Get back here right now! Why you! I’ll… I’ll…” *followed by all sorts of threats that really shouldn’t be aimed at a child*

(I can’t deal with this, so I just automatically head to the bathroom like I’d planned and like she’d previously told me I was allowed to. I do my business and come out, hoping the craziness will magically stop. No such luck.)

Mom: *very threateningly* “How dare you?! You b****! I’m telling you right now; if you dare take a step out of this apartment without that hat on your head, you had better plan on never coming back home again!”

(I think, “Wow! What a great suggestion, actually.” I collect my coat and backpack without a single word, without even making any sign I’ve heard anything she’s said.)

Mom: *shouting at my back as I turn away from her* “Better learn to feed yourself from now on! I’ll never want anything more to do with you again! You’ll be living on the street! You’d better never set foot in my house again, you hear me?! You ungrateful waste of…”

(She was clearly still expecting me to run back to her, snivelling and crying for forgiveness for my “transgression.” I calmly walked to the door, opened it, left, and slammed it shut behind me as hard as I could while she was still shouting. I went to school like normal, and came home after like usual. I was kind of wondering what would happen. The threats to kick me out on the street had been made before, numerous times, ever since they’d fetched me back from living with my grandparents when I was five. It would be done at the drop of a hat, for the most minor “misbehavior,” and always before this I caved in terror and begged for forgiveness. I guess I’d just finally had enough. When Mom came home, not a single word was said about anything that went on that morning. It was just never referred to in any way. I may be mistaken, but she might have been just the slightest bit relieved that I had, in fact, returned home. Threats or no threats, I was their only child. The hat was never mentioned again, and no similar scenes with any winter clothing were ever repeated.)

(The following are a series of emails between a student and their local police department:)

Email #1 from [Student]:

To whom it may concern,

My name is [Student] and I am a student at [University]. I am currently taking the class Introduction to Law Enforcement and for one of our projects we are required to do a ride-along with a police officer. Is it possible to do a ride-along with [Law Enforcement Agency]? If so, what do I need to do to sign up for one? I would greatly appreciate any help. Thank you for your time and consideration.

Sincerely,

[Student]

Email #1 from Police Department:

Hello, [Student],

I believe that Lt. [Commander District #1] is the person responsible for coordinating ride-alongs. I cannot say with absolute certainty that is still within his purview as a few of the upper administrative personnel had a few changes in responsibility lately. What I would suggest is that you call the front desk at [number] between eight am and five pm Monday through Friday and ask to whom you would need to speak. The front desk officer should be able to transfer you directly to the correct person. Sorry I wasn’t able to assist you fully with the correct answer.

[Records Technician]

[LEA] Records Technician

Email #2 from [Student]:

Hi,

This is to inform you that your excuse has been received. Thank you.

[Sorority Member]

Vice President of Communication

[Sorority]

Email #2 from Police Department:

Unfortunately, due to your condescending response to one of our records technicians, who did in fact give you 100% accurate information, the [Law Enforcement Agency] will not be hosting you for a law enforcement ride-along. In summary, as a representative of your peer group, this remark is unwarranted:

Your email will also be forwarded to the [Other Local Law Enforcement Agencies] to demonstrate your disdain for the men and women of the local law enforcement agencies who serve the students, citizens, and visitors to [University], [City], and [County].

It is my sincere hope that in the future you act more accordingly when asking for an accommodation to be made for your individual benefit.

Lieutenant [Lieutenant]

[Law Enforcement Agency]

District 1 Commander

(I work in a small cafe in Los Angeles. My husband and I own it. I am working the morning shift and a rather upper-class-looking man comes in.)

Me: “Hello, sir! Welcome to [Cafe]. What would you like today?”

Customer: “I want the [drink that a major coffee shop has].”

Me: “Sorry, but we don’t make that.”

(He shoves a piece of paper at me, and it has instructions for creating said drink.)

Me: “Sir, I can’t make this for you. Sorry.”

Customer: “I want to speak to a manager.”

Me: “Sir, I own the cafe with my husband. I cannot make this for you!”

Customer: “Well, let me speak to your husband. Women are useless.”

(I am considering kicking him out, but I yell for my husband, who comes out from the back room. I tell him what the customer said.)

Husband: “Get out.”

Customer: “Excuse me?”

Me: “You heard him. Get out.”

Customer: “No. You can’t make me. I’ll call the police for harassment!”

Husband: “Get out, or I will assist you in exiting myself.”

Customer Behind Him: “Get the f*** out. No one wants to hear your stupid-a** comments. Go home to your sad little life.”

(He then grabbed the man by the collar and shoved him outside. He got free coffee.)