(I am nine months pregnant. My doctor has recommended that I not spend extended periods of time on my feet. I really need to do some grocery shopping, so I go to the customer service desk to see if they have a motorized cart available. The customer service associate is a middle-aged man.)

Me: “Hi, excuse me. Do you have any motorized carts available?”

Worker #1: “No.”

Me: “Oh, okay. Have they all been taken recently? Do you think one will be available soon?”

Worker #1: “Not for you.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Worker #1: “There’s nothing wrong with you; you’ve got two legs that aren’t broken. Go get a normal cart.”

Me: “My doctor has told me it isn’t safe for me to walk around too much. I really need to buy groceries. If there won’t be a cart available soon, I will come back later, but I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to talk to a customer that way.”

Worker #1: “You can come back later, but I’m still not giving you a cart. You can walk; you’re just lazy.”

(At this point, I’ve had enough. I walk over to another employee.)

Me: “Is your manager around?”

Worker #2: “Yeah, hang on.” *she calls the manager over*

Manager: “Hi! How’s it going?”

Me: “Oh, great. I’m just a little upset because your customer service person won’t let me use a motorized cart.” *the manager looks at my obvious belly and turns white*

Manager: “Jesus! Again?!”

(The manager went to the desk and came back with a motorized cart and a gift card. I could hear the customer service worker shouting about how I was not disabled and didn’t deserve the cart. It turned out, he had done this to several other customers before me, all young people.)

(My mother is at the bus stop and sees a guy stumbling around, from the sidewalk to the bike path, and close to the curb. She calls the police so they can take care of him, as he is clearly too out of it to be safe on his own in public. They arrive and talk to him, asking about alcohol and drugs. He admits to taking some drugs, then suddenly turns on my mother.)

Druggie: *yelling* “Look at all the trouble you got me in!”

Mother: *yelling back* “I saved your life! You were almost running into the street!”

(So much for helping people.)

Many years ago, shortly after finishing university I worked for a local factory as a van driver and cleaner, a stop-gap until I found a job in my line of graduation. The pay was dreadful and the company was very much behind the times.

I was driving back to the factory after doing a delivery and en-route noticed one of my house-share friends walking home along the road. I stopped to give him a lift since it was on the way.

Two minutes later, I looked in the rearview mirror and recognised the expensive 4×4 behind me as belonging to one of our senior managers. Now, the van I was driving had the company logo all over it. I was also aware that I shouldn’t be carrying any non-company employees and could lose my job.

I took the next turn onto a different road, hoping he wasn’t going to follow, but he did. We were now heading in a different direction to the factory, so I probably started to look a little suspicious. I devised a little plan in my head and shared it with my housemate: knowing a road coming up was a long road with a bend in the middle, I slowed right down and took the turn, then I sped up very quickly to get round the bend and slammed the brakes on, telling my housemate to jump out as fast as he can. He jumped out and I dashed off again just as the senior manager came driving round the bend.

I then headed up to a local garage the company had an account with for fuel and turned in, making it look like this was where I’d been heading all along. Thankfully the senior manager carried on driving past whilst taking a close look at me.

I was very glad he drove past as I couldn’t have filled the van up; I’d done that only ten minutes before picking my housemate up in the first place, and the van was already full of fuel!

That was the last time I “taxied” on company time! My housemate ended up having to walk for an extra half-hour because of my detour, although we had a good laugh about it afterwards and the manager never mentioned it.

(I am walking past the checkouts and see a few workers pointing at random customers. One points at me. I decide to investigate.)

Me: “Sorry, I couldn’t help noticing… What are you talking about?”

Coworker #1: *nervous* “Umm, we were just playing a game.”

Coworker #2: “F***, marry, kill?”

Me: “Oh, I know that.” *walks away* “Wait… Which one was I?”

Coworker #2: “Umm, f***.”

Me: “Oh!”

Coworker #2: “But I would have to get really drunk beforehand… but only because I’m gay. Not because you aren’t attractive, or anything.”

Me: “Oh, okay.”

Coworker #2: “I think I’ll just go over there and kill myself now.”

Me: “Oh, well. Nice knowing you!”

(As I walked away I heard them grilling him on why he told me. Despite it being highly inappropriate, I found it quite funny. I also was the one who asked, so I didn’t really have a right to be offended, anyway.)

(I teach at a small high school and have taught the same group their freshman through junior years. The juniors are my first group of the day. They have a reputation for being pretty obnoxious. There are known drug dealers and other tough kids in the class. One Monday, I come to work with the entire right side of my face bruised, including a black eye.)

Me: “Okay, folks. I know I don’t normally sit when I teach, but I’m a little achy today, so bear with me.”

(Hands shoot up, and I call on one of toughest kids, who is currently wearing an ankle monitor from his last time in court.)

Student: “Ms. [My Name], what happened to you?”

Me: “I’m fine; I just tripped on my top step and took a nose dive off my deck.”

(I try to go back to my presentation, but the same student is quietly but obviously talking with some of his friends. I’m about to tell him to stop when his hand goes up again.)

Student: “Uh… Ms. [My Name], are you sure that’s what happened? Or do you have a boyfriend the guys and I need to talk to?”

(I reassured him that I am just that clumsy. Things like this are why I continue to teach where I do. Many of my students who are often in trouble can also be some of the sweetest, in their own ways!)

This story is part of the Teacher Appreciation 2023 roundup!

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