I work in a hotel. The other day, a girl stayed here, smoked in a nonsmoking room, and left a bunch of drug baggies in the toilet. Obviously, her card declined for the smoking fee because they always do.

She came by the next day, and the first thing I noticed about her was the terrible wig she was wearing. It was so bad it was distracting. It was like the Rachel haircut from “Friends,” but completely straight and black and purple.

But that’s not the point. She said she’d left a very expensive wig in her room. We didn’t find it, so she asked to check herself, she asked for them to go check again, and then she asked me to check. Eventually, I did, and there was no wig.

After that, we figured we were done with her because, after the condition she’d left her room in, she was on the do-not-rent list. Then, today as the head housekeeper was checking to see what rooms were done, she was surprised to find someone in a room that had been checked out of hours before. That someone was none other than the woman with the wig. She claimed to be there because her friends were staying at the hotel, though she didn’t say why she was occupying a vacant room.

For some reason, she was not smart enough to leave immediately when the head housekeeper found her, because she was still up there. The boss told her off and got her out of the room.

Back at the desk, he checked the cameras to see where she went after he kicked her out and saw her walk a couple of doors down the hall to another room. He went to kick her out of there, too. While he was on his way to the room, I watched on the camera as she went back to the first room he’d bounced her from — and apparently hadn’t completely closed the door of — and then go back to the new room.

I couldn’t hear them, but apparently, as he threw her out, she accused him of being the rudest person she’d ever met, as well as a pedophile. Then, she told him to go back to his country, so he’s now got three punches on his “Go Back To Your Country” card, which is fun. His country is New Jersey, by the way.

I was working as a receptionist and office admin for a company in London. It was my first proper job, so I wasn’t as witty or quick with my replies as I am now. It’s coming to the end of the day and my boss — the Head of IT and Office Manager — has just left for the day and this call comes in. It’s a condescending sounding guy from an IT sales company asking to speak to my boss.

Me: “He has just left for the day.”

Caller: *A bit irritate* “Well, I know [Boss], and I could just call his mobile, so just put me through to him.”

Me: “I can’t do that. He is no longer on the premises. If you have his mobile, then feel free to call him directly. Otherwise, I’m happy to take a message and ask him to call you back tomorrow.”

Caller: *Getting pissed* “I don’t want to leave a message with a woman; you wouldn’t understand the technical wording. So, don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. Put me through to a man now!”

This is the point where I should have said, “Yeah, no. Bye,” or just hung up, but being young and having no confidence, I kind of froze, said, “Yeah,” and passed the phone to my colleague, who told the guy to sod off.

There is a happy ending, though. We told our boss the next day, and he rang the guy and essentially slaughtered him verbally down the phone while we got to listen. One of the best bosses I’ve had!

Customer: “Do you like jokes?”

Me: “Absolutely.”

He then proceeds to tell me an incredibly racist and misogynistic joke. I just stand there, staring him straight in the eyes.

Me: “That wasn’t even remotely funny.”

Customer: “Well, I guess you’re just a liar and don’t like jokes after all.”

I just stared at him with dead eyes until he became very uncomfortable and left.

I’d gone into the store to get some sundry items. No self-checkouts were available, for whatever reason. No biggies — I went to the manned checkout. The operator scanned the item and I tapped my card. The machine told me that the process had not completed correctly, so I tapped again.

Checkout Operator: “Don’t worry; it has gone through.”

She pulled the receipt out and started writing on it.

Me: “Yes, thank you. I don’t—”

Checkout Operator: “See, it’s like a woman.”

Me: “Yes indeed. I don’t need—”

Checkout Operator: “See? It’s temperamental.”

Me: “Ahaha. Thank you, I don’t need my—”

Checkout Operator: “Temperamental. Like a woman, see?”

Me: “Yes, indeed. Hahaha. Thank you very much. I won’t need my receipt.”

Checkout Operator: “Oh, okay. Why don’t—”

Me: “Thank you very much, bye.”

I am a twenty-five-year-old woman, and I have about five different things wrong with my left foot and ankle. I have three forms of tendonitis and two joints with osteoarthritis in my foot. I also had surgery on this ankle about two and a half years ago. I deal with a lot of pain and have a very noticeable limp. I’m in pain almost every single day of my life, and currently, there isn’t much I can do to alleviate the pain.

I work ten-hour shifts and range from being on my feet the whole time to possibly sitting most of the day. Yesterday was a very busy day, so I was on my feet the whole time. By the time I got off, I was in a lot of pain — probably about a nine on the pain scale. I needed to stop at the grocery store to pick up some veggies to go with dinner. I was doing my shopping and was just getting through the store pretty slowly so as not to cause any shooting pains in my ankle and foot. All the sudden, this elderly woman stopped me.

Woman: “I just hate your generation! All you guys do is fake an injury so you don’t have to work. Your limp isn’t real. Get over yourself.”

Me: “Okay.”

I tried walking away. I was so exhausted and really didn’t care what she thought. I just wanted to get my stuff, leave, and go home to ice my ankle.

Then, the woman walked up behind me, pretended to stumble, and full-on kicked my left ankle.

Woman: “Oops, sorry!”

I yelped in pain, now fully pissed off and crying in pain. I turned around and pointed to my visibly swollen ankle.

Me: “Okay, b****, look at my ankles! Do you notice the difference in sizes? I’m actually in a lot of f****** pain! I just got off a ten-hour shift being on my feet the whole day and have multiple injuries in this leg!”

Woman: *Surprised* “Well, how am I supposed to know that?”

Me: “You aren’t because we don’t know each other! But you decided to make my problems your business by saying I’m faking it and then kicking me.”

An employee walked up after hearing my yelp and the commotion.

Employee: “What seems to be the issue here?”

Me: “I was accused of faking an injury because my generation sucks and then was kicked in my bad leg.”

Woman: “She’s faking it and you can tell she can walk just fine. I didn’t mean to kick her. I stumbled and it just happened.”

Employee: *To me* “Would you like to police called to file a report?”

The woman went pale white and started to stutter.

Me: “No, I just want this lady to f*** off, and I want to finish shopping and go home!”

The woman tried to continue pleading her case but instead got kicked out of the store, and I got a discount on my groceries!

I don’t think she injured my ankle any more because this morning, there wasn’t any bruising and the swelling had gone down.