(I’m 18 and staying at a friend’s house the night before I get an early coach to the airport. This is my first time getting a flight alone so I’m pretty nervous. I pack up early and book a ride through a well-known taxi app. My friend lives on a road that has one main section with two smaller roads coming off of it but they’re all named the same street and just numbered as if it’s one road. As this can be confusing, I’ve made sure my location is clearly marked for pick up on the app and have left extra time. Despite this, the driver is still late and won’t answer his phone before eventually showing up.)

Driver: “What are you stood down here for?”

Me: “This is where I arranged pickup from, see?” *points to his phone screen on the dash*

Driver: “Well, it wasn’t showing that a minute ago. Anyway, coach station, right. I’m not going the way this thing tells me. Google Maps is rubbish; it always takes you the slow way.”

Me: “Right…”

(I’m a bit concerned but don’t want to tell a taxi driver how to drive, and the city can be a bit strange if there’s roadwork that Google doesn’t know about.)

Driver: “Where are you getting a coach to, then?”

Me: “The airport.”

Driver: “The airport? Why aren’t you driving there?”

Me: “Oh, I can’t drive.”

Driver: *laughs* “Good! That’s for the best. Women are terrible drivers; it’s best they keep you off the roads. Every crash I’ve been in was caused by a woman driver. I don’t know why they’re allowed. Don’t you think, when they’ve shown with all those tests that women are worse at driving, that they should have to pass a harder test?”

Me: “I actually did a psychology degree, and the tests really don’t show that women are worse drivers. The spatial experiment studies show that—“

Driver: “Now, now, don’t get your knickers in a twist. I’m just saying it’s good you can’t drive. Anyway— Oh. Where are we? Oh, blast it, I took a wrong turning. Hang on.”

(He drives hurriedly, and pretty dangerously at times, in a really random route. I’m getting a bit nervous because I’m close to being late for my coach even with the extra time I’ve allowed.)

Me: “Um, I think you need to take a right here.”

Driver: “Don’t you worry. I know what I’m doing. I was only kidding about being lost.”

(He ignores me and carries on straight, ending up opposite from the coach stop with four lanes of traffic between me and my coach, which is already at its stop.)

Me: “I can’t get out here!”

Driver: “Ugh. One second, then. We’ll turn around. Is that your coach?”

Me: “Yes!”

Driver: “Calm down! We’ll make it!”

(He turns the car around and goes down the road I indicated before, just in time to see the coach pull out of its stop. I stare at it in shock.)

Driver: “Oh, dear. Well, next time, be sure to be where you booked the pickup for; we lost a lot of time messing around.”

(I wordlessly got out, still in shock, as he got my bags out and then left me at the side of the road. I ended up having to get the next coach at a cost of another £25 and barely made it to the airport in time for my flight. I already have an anxiety disorder and was too anxious to deal with customer service so I didn’t make a complaint, though did give him a one-star review.)

(I am a nurse. I am invited by one of my former boyfriends to go to a movie with him and his current girlfriend. Since I have no current boyfriend, he says that I can bring a friend with me. I ask a former classmate from nursing school along. The classmate is black. After we are picked up, the former boyfriend starts making bigoted jokes. After each one, he will look at my classmate in the mirror and say, “Oh, no offense.” After about three of these, the classmate turns to me.)

Classmate: “[My Name], we had an interesting case last week.”

Me: *who knows a straight line when I hear one* “Oh, really? What happened?”

Classmate: “Well, we had a new patient on the hall, and as the charge nurse, I was the one checking him in. The whole time, though, he kept making remarks.”

Me: “What kind of remarks?”

Classmate: “Oh, you know. Sexual remarks.”

Me: “So, what happened after that?”

Classmate: “Well, you know at my hospital, nurses are required to insert Foley catheters. So, I was getting him ready for it, and he started making his remarks again. I proceeded with the intubation, though. But I’m afraid I made a mistake.”

Me: “What kind of mistake?”

Classmate: “I forgot to use any jelly.”

(There was an audible hiss from the driver, and the classmate looked up at him in the mirror.)

Classmate: “Oh, no offense!”

(My mom and I are doing our weekly grocery run to get stuff for my infant daughter. As we are ringing up our purchases, another older couple comes up behind us and smiles at my daughter sitting in the cart.)

Man: “Oh, what a cute little boy. Hey, little fella!”

Woman: “That’s a little girl.”

Man: “No, it isn’t.”

Me: “Yeah, she’s a girl.”

Man: “But… she’s wearing blue!”

(My daughter is wearing a dark blue onesie. I look down at my men’s jeans and combat boots.)

Me: “That doesn’t mean anything. She plays with cars as much as she does her tea set. And I use power tools more than my husband does.”

(My daughter took this moment to pick up her pink security blanket and start sucking her thumb. The lady was laughing at this point. The guy looked SO embarrassed, so I cut him a break and finished checking out without further comment.)

(I work as a barista in a coffee shop. Every Tuesday and Thursday, we have a teenager come in and order the same drink: a half-and-half coffee. This customer has Down Syndrome. She is the sweetest person ever and all of the staff are extremely polite and enjoy her presence. It is Tuesday evening, around five pm. A woman yapping loudly on a cell phone strolls into the restaurant and proceeds to order. It all goes smoothly until she goes to collect her coffee and takes notice of the girl.)

Woman: “Oh, my God, a f****** [slur]! How do you let people like this in your shop?”

(I go speechless, having never met such an inconsiderate a**hole in my life, and simply stand there, stunned.)

Woman: “I mean, I can’t believe those crazy f*****s aren’t locked up in an asylum like they should be!”

(She is quite loud, and by now the whole cafe is dead silent and glaring at her with looks of pure disgust. The girl is visibly upset and tears are pouring down her cheeks. This woman continues her ranting when a middle-aged male customer approaches her.)

Male Customer: “Excuse me, ma’am. Your name doesn’t happen to be [Woman] does it?”

Woman: *looking annoyed* “Why, yes, it is. And exactly who the f*** are you?”

(The man smiles at her, but there is a fire behind his eyes.)

Male Customer: “My name is [Male Customer], and I’m the CEO of [Small Local Company]. If I recall, you just applied for a position at our office last week. In fact, I was just going over to the office to review your application, but now I see I won’t have to do that. Watching you be completely rude and undeniably terrible to that girl made my blood boil. I can say, with one-hundred-percent certainty, that you will never work for my company, ever. You’d be a major embarrassment to our image, and I can’t have that on my plate. Now, I recommend you apologize to that poor little girl and then get the f*** out of this coffee shop, because I don’t ever want to see your piece-of-s*** face again.”

(The woman’s jaw is on the floor. She mutters a quick apology and runs out of the store, not even bothering to pick up her coffee. The manager has come out of his office.)

Manager: “That was the greatest thing I’ve ever seen. Take an employee discount!”

(The teenage girl was given a free coffee and our store T-shirt!)

(I work in a large store that also has a busy auto section, selling auto parts along with service for tires, oil changes, etc. Due to an unusual set of circumstances, I am the only person in the entire department, which is against policy because I will have to cover the register as well as service cars. Also, because of safety reasons, I cannot go into the pit to drain oil without another worker in the bay. I am explaining this to two different angry and impatient customers while ringing out a third. Another asks me to show him where something is while an older gentleman waits patiently. I finally get to the gentleman and apologize for the wait.)

Customer: “That’s okay. You are busy. How long until a technician can look at my tire?”

Me: “I am a technician.” *keep in mind I am in a technician uniform, covered in grease* “I can look at it right now.”

Me: *a few minutes later* “I found the screw in your tire. Unfortunately, it is too close to your sidewall. A patch will not hold. You need a new tire. We do installations for free.”

Customer: *looks at me suspiciously because I am female* “So, what can you recommend for a [truck]?”

(I show him several tires that would fit and discuss the pros and cons of each. During this, I excuse myself to ring out two more customers and write up a service order for another while explaining the delay. The customer chooses a tire. Unfortunately, we have none in stock but we have a display model on a very tall riser. He agrees to buy it. I get out a tall, heavy ladder and as I am hauling it over, another angry customer who has been waiting in the bay comes charging over yelling. I calm him down and start to climb the ladder.)

Customer: “No, wait. Let me get that.”

Me: “Sir, I appreciate it, but I can’t let you, for safety reasons.”

Customer: “But you are a girl and I am a guy. I really should get that. It’s too heavy for you.”

Me: “Sir, I trained ex-racehorses and lifted sacks of grain over 100 pounds. This probably weighs 40. Can you lift 100 pounds?” *the customer looks sheepish* “And no disrespect intended at all, but you are at least twice my age. If someone has to fall off a ladder, I will heal a lot quicker. But I sincerely appreciate the offer.”

(I got the tire down without incident. I pulled the old tire off, mounted the new tire, and balanced it for free. During this, I was writing up more orders and ringing out more people until my coworker arrived. A few weeks later, the district manager of the entire store visited. I was called into the office. The managers played like I had done something horribly wrong until they presented me with a three-page letter this guy wrote about me. He glowed about my patience and knowledge of tires and yelled at the store for making me work in such conditions. The district manager put a commendation in my file — which almost guarantees the top raise next review, and it did come through — and gave me a share of company stock for a reward.)