(As a middle-aged female, I’ve acquired more than a few chronic ailments, and each time I’ve changed jobs, I’ve had to change health insurance companies, resulting in having to be under the care of numerous doctors for the same conditions. I’ve been divorced for 14 years, and I’ve always had my own health insurance as a working adult. While calling up yet another new doctor to make yet another “new patient” appointment, I give the friendly lady receptionist my pertinent information. All goes well until she drops this line:)

Receptionist: “And that’s your husband’s insurance, correct?”

(That’s the first and ONLY time I’ve ever been asked that, even when I WAS married — and he didn’t even have insurance. Probably shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did, but there was no way she could have ascertained I was married based on anything I told her. Welcome to the 21st century, friendly lady receptionist.)

(I work at a store that mostly sells pranks and novelty items, and the staff often jokes around with customers. An older man has come in and I am quickly able to help him find the item that he is looking for. We have two counters in our store — one up front and one in the back — but our only register is at the front counter. We are located at the back counter, and the man has remained quiet the whole time, and before I can direct him up front, he silently shoves a hundred dollar bill in my face.)

Me: “Actually, sir, we’ll need to check out up front, but I’ll be happy to take that bill off your hands!” *laughs*

Customer: *completely somber, putting the bill back into his wallet* “It’s just like a woman to ask for money and take it.”

Me: “Um… Let’s go get you checked out.”

(My managers are out of town. I work for close family friends; they own the franchise I work for so things are often pretty lax and they leave the store to my coworkers and me without a “real manager” on duty sometimes. In these times, I have to act as the manager and handle comments and complaints, etc. A customer enters the store with her grandchildren and my coworker takes their order.)

Coworker: “Thank you for choosing [Fast Food Restaurant]. What can I do for you today?”

Customer: “I want your three-piece strip five-dollar lunch with a honey mustard and a ranch.”

Coworker: “Okay, ma’am, no problem. It will be fifty cents for an extra sauce; is that okay?”

Customer: *suddenly angry* “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU WOULD CHARGE FOR AN EXTRA SAUCE!”

Coworker: “I apologize for the inconvenience, ma’am, but it is company policy.”

Customer: “FINE. Just give me a honey mustard, then!”

(I walk away. I have only overheard this conversation as I am stocking up something close to the register. I immediately forget the customer, as I usually do if I don’t take the order. The transaction finishes; my coworker gives the customer her food and even ends up giving her the sauce for free. She eats and leaves with her grandchildren. About thirty minutes later the phone rings.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Fast Food Restaurant]. How may I help you?”

Customer: “IS THIS HOW YOU RUN YOUR BUSINESS?!”

Me: *immediately confused, but recognizing her voice from earlier* “I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t know what you mean; was something wrong with your meal?”

Customer: “I CAME IN WITH MY GRANDCHILDREN AND THERE WAS A COUPLE HUGGING AND KISSING IN YOUR DINING ROOM AND YOU DID NOTHING ABOUT IT!”

Me: *still confused* “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I didn’t see the couple, and even if I did, there’s nothing I could really do. It’s not illegal.”

Customer: “MY GRANDCHILDREN WERE THERE! THEY HAD TO SEE A GAY COUPLE HUGGING AND KISSING. IS THIS HOW YOU RUN YOUR BUSINESS?”

Me: *suddenly understanding* “Well, ma’am, as I said it’s not illegal, so there is nothing I can do.”

Customer: “WHY DIDN’T YOU KICK THEM OUT? MY GRANDCHILDREN HAD TO SEE IT!”

Me: “Ma’am, this franchise of [Fast Food Restaurant] is a major supporter of [Local Pride Celebration] and we believe that all love is equal. We would never kick a couple out for being gay.”

Customer: “Well, you just lost a customer!”

Me: “Well, ma’am, we don’t want your bigoted money, anyway.”

(The customer then hangs up the phone and I proceed to tell my coworkers about it.)

Coworker: “How do you think she would have felt if you told her all her food and ice cream were prepared by not one, or two, but three gay people?”

(The cook and I are bisexual and my other coworker is a lesbian. Ha!)

(My husband and I are on holiday. We’re considered an uncommon interracial couple. We’re both South African, but I’m ethnically Pakistani and he’s a Zulu man. We’re on holiday in Dubai and we’re at a theme park known for its fast rides. It’s a bit of a busy day so we’re waiting in line. There have been a lot of queue jumpers today and we’re getting fed up. Just behind us are two Indian girls. As the line moves, we notice the girls are slowly inching closer and closer into our personal space, to the point where they’re actually moving around us and trying to get ahead in the queue. This pisses me off since I hate line jumpers, but I’m a bit of a pushover so I don’t confront them. I just give them a dirty look. Soon, the girls start speaking in Hindi, not realising that I’m Pakistani and fluent in Urdu — our language — which is very similar to Hindi.)

Girl #1: “What are they doing?”

Girl #2: “I don’t know. Look at that girl looking at us.”

Girl #1: “She looks crazy. Is she with the black guy?”

Girl #2: “Looks like it. Weird.”

(They say a few more sentences which I don’t catch because my glare is getting more intense, and I finally decide to speak up. I speak to them in Urdu.)

Me: “Hey, you girls are being incredibly rude. We’re all waiting in this line and I don’t know what you think of yourselves that you can cut past us.”

(Both girls look shocked and start to make excuses.)

Girl #2: “We’re not trying to cut in line, but fine, you go ahead of us.”

(The line moved forward a few steps and they got a little behind us. Coincidentally, the theme park that we were at employs a lot of South Africans and we’d been greeting our fellow countrymen the whole day, whenever we heard the accents. As we neared the front of the queue, the girls were starting their old tricks again and they’d managed to move a little ahead of us. One of the men running the ride turned out to be Zulu and my husband spoke to him in Zulu quite enthusiastically. The man asked how things were going and my husband replied that things were pretty good, except for the queue jumpers. The girls’ faces blanched and they started to look scared, even though neither of them could understand Zulu — the words “queue jumpers” were said in English. My husband isn’t the type to be petty, but being South African had been a huge advantage to us since the staff were usually nicer and more accommodating for us. Anyway, when they needed two people to fill the next ride, those girls were purposefully ignored by the attendant and we went in first. Even though it was something small, karma felt good.)

Me: “My name is [My Name]; how can I help?”

Customer: “Are you English?”

Me: *pause* “How is it I can help?”

Customer: “Are you English? Are you based in England?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t see how that is relevant to any queries you may have, sir. How is it I can help?”

Customer: “How dare you?! How dare you speak to me like that?! I refuse to speak to someone as rude as you! Get me someone else now!”

Me: “No, sir.”

Customer: “NOW! I will not be spoken to like that! You people are all so f****** d*** rude! Get me someone English now!”

Me: “Once again, sir, no. Now if you can give me your name and your query… how is it I can help?”

Customer: “I refuse to speak to you. You’re being so d*** rude; get me someone else!”

Me: “Sir, if you refuse to give me any of your information or tell me why you are ringing, I cannot help. My ethnicity and race are irrelevant to anything you have to ask; if you don’t like that answer then I’m sorry but I’m ending the call.”

Customer: “Get. Me. Somebody. Else.”

Me: “…”

Customer: “Now.”

Me: “Thanks for your call today. Sorry I haven’t been able to help any further. Please enjoy your day.” *hangs up*