(It is one of my first days working at a discount store. I am cleaning when a woman, about 45, approaches me.)

Woman: “Hey, you!”

Me: “Hello there. How may I help you?”

Woman: *holding a small carpet* “Sorry to bother you, but I need to know how much this carpet costs.”

Me: “All right! Just show me where you found it.”

(She shows me where the carpet was; right next to the carpet is a huge sign with the price.)

Me: “Oh, you can see the price right next to it, and it’s even on sale!”

Woman: *looks at me as if I just murdered her family and starts to scream* “I don’t f****** trust you! You don’t know anything about carpets!”

Me: “Well, that’s the price of the carpet. What more would you like to know about it, then?”

Woman: “Nothing, you piece of s***! You know nothing! Get me a woman here who knows about carpets and stuff! Men know nothing about household items! And they will never help out! Just sit on their lazy a**es on the couch all day. I don’t trust men!”

Me: “All right! Have a nice day!”

Woman: *inaudible screaming and cursing*

(I work in maintenance. I’m cleaning a spill as this occurs.)

Customer: “Oh, honey, I’m sorry.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “You’re cleaning a gross mess.”

Me: “Well, yes. I’m maintenance.”

Customer: “But you’re a lady. Ladies shouldn’t clean gross messes unless it’s for their kids. They should get a man to do your job.”

Me: *speechless until she left*

(I work in a museum in the UK.)

Caller: “Hello. I’m conducting some family history research and I need information about [Person] buried in [Village].”

Me: “Unfortunately, our archivist is out of the office at the moment.”

Caller: “Well, that’s typical! These people get paid so much that they’re always on holiday!”

Me: “She’s actually meeting with a local history group, but she’ll be back shortly, so I’ll take a few details and ask her to call you when she returns.”

Caller: “Why can’t you get me the information? All you do all day is sit in an office answering the phone. You should get out more.”

Me: “The archivist is really the best person for this enquiry. I’ll just take some details.”

(The caller goes on for a bit about the information he wants, and I take notes. Then, suddenly, this happens:)

Caller: “I used to be an engineer, you know. I travelled the world. You people have no ambition or life experience. You think the world is the Internet. That’s all you know.”

Me: *ignoring his outburst* “So, I’ll pass on the information you’ve given me to our archivist.”

Caller: “You people don’t know what the real world is. You just sit in front of the Internet while our NHS gets exploited by foreigners. You need to do something with your life. I bet you’ve never even been abroad. Get some experience. Then you’ll realise why intelligent people like me voted for Brexit!”

(Despite having British parents and an “English” accent, I grew up “abroad.” However, given his views on “foreigners,” I decide not to mention this.)

Caller: “Nowhere else has a nationalised health service. You didn’t know that! We’re the only country that does. Everywhere else they have to have insurance and pay a fortune. That’s why they all want to come here.”

Me: *forcing myself not to correct him* “I think I’ve got everything I need to process your enquiry, so unless there’s any more family history information you’d like, you can leave this with me.”

Caller: “My family is related to [Famous Company]. You wouldn’t have heard of them, because if it’s not on the Internet, you don’t know about it.”

Me: “Right…”

Caller: “You should really educate yourself more. Do something with your life.”

Me: “Okay, well, right now, I’m going to take your enquiry to our archives department. Good day.”

(I hang up the phone, rest my head on the desk, and scream. The archivist pops her head round the door.)

Archivist: “I’m back! Oh, my… What happened while I was out?”

Me: “This guy would like you to call him back. Have fun!”

(My sister and I are with my younger brother at a video game store, so he can check the prices of a few games. While he’s looking at one game, a boy about his age strikes up a conversation. I think nothing of it, and continue looking around. At one point, I’m standing with my brother when an ad for a cute and fluffy — yet challenging — game comes on, which I happen to be obsessed with.)

Brother: “Oh, look, [My Name]! [Video Game]! They’re coming out with a new one!”

Me: “Awesome! Does that show release dates or anything?”

Boy: “You like that game?”

Me: “Yup.”

Boy: “Really? One a scale of one to ten, the graphics are like, really bad. Like, compared to the games I play, the graphics are just, like, really bad.”

Me: “Well, the whole concept is that it’s yarn. For yarn and craft supplies, the graphics are actually pretty awesome!”

Boy: “Yeah, but the graphics are really bad. Like, they look five-bit.”

Me: “I think you mean eight-bit. I also think I’m entitled to my own opinion, thank you very much.”

Boy: “Yeah, but the graphics just suck.”

(At this point, my sister comes over.)

Sister: “Everyone ready to go?”

Boy: “You have two sisters?! Dude, that must suck.”

Brother: “It’s fine, actually. Plus, they’re really good for playing multiplayer games with.”

Boy: “Those girls? Nah, they probably just fluff their hair all day. Ha!”

Me: “Yeah, okay, you got what you need? Let’s check out now. I don’t need more time with Sir Pint-Sized Misogynist.”

(I later saw the boy tagging behind all three employees that were working that day, spewing off random “tips” everyone knows and incorrect game trivia. Let’s hope his parents found him soon after!)

(While visiting my family, the conversation turns to how well-meaning people can still say ugly things.)

Dad: “You know, at a party back in college I was chatting with this attractive Asian woman. I told her I was really impressed with how good her English was, since I was still struggling with my own accent. She gave me a look, and said, ‘My family has lived here for two hundred years, and we run one of the largest ranches in the state.’”

Me: “Ouch, you were That Guy.”

Dad: “It gets worse. A month later I was at a party chatting to an attractive Asian woman…”

Me: “Oh, geez, same person?”

Dad: “Yep.”

Me: “Seriously? I should be glad you’re so inept with women; otherwise, you’d have found someone before Mom, and I wouldn’t be here.”