I worked at a big box retailer back in 2009 as a cashier. The belts at the checkouts kind of jarred before they began moving.

In one transaction, this lady had a bottle of champagne. The belt jarred and the bottle fell off the belt onto the floor. It fell in such a way that the bottom of the bottle shattered out and the pressure launched the bottle’s neck and lid up to the ceiling. Suddenly, pieces of glass were raining down from the ceiling.

Then, the neck hit another bottle, knocking it off and causing it to shatter off at the bottom and launch upwards and over, three check lanes over.

The whole thing only took like thirty seconds, but there were glass shards everywhere, along with two bottles’ worth of sticky champagne all over the belt, the floor, the lady’s groceries, and her outfit. It was a mess.

Plowing the paddock is a tedious job, but you need to pay lots of attention because if you get distracted, the furrows end up not being straight — which is why dad made me do the plowing when he couldn’t, and why this particular incident was so funny at the time.

I was in the last paddock. There was a little gap between the fence lines and then my neighbour’s paddocks. The gap in the fence line was just big enough for a vehicle, and it is intended to allow firetrucks through. Even farmers use these tracks carefully and sparingly because of how rough they are.

As I watched, a tiny city car with an out-of-state number plate and shiny, dust-free paint job came up the track, slowly and carefully weaving through the bumps and rocks and trees.

I thought for sure they were lost. Every so often, you get someone who thinks their map has told them to turn on the track; it usually ends with a flat tire at best and an overturned car at worst.

Just as I was beginning to scorn them in my head for not getting the hint and realising how wrong they were for mindlessly following instructions, the car stopped and a nicely-dressed lady stepped out.

Instead of me being asked for directions and getting to be their hero in flannel, the lady gave my tractor a vague wave, opened the boot of her car… and pulled out a shovel.

As I watched, she very carefully picked her way through the already growing crop in my neighbour’s paddock and promptly dug an entire young thistle plant out of the ground. As I watched, she took it back to the track and attacked it viciously with her shovel until there was nothing left.

With the noxious weed dealt with before it could flower, she put her shovel away, gave me another wave, and merrily toddled her car back down the hill the way she’d come.

I’ve no idea who she was, and neither did our neighbours. Best we can figure, she was just traveling for work or holiday, saw a bad weed, and decided to deal with it herself.

She’s welcome to come and visit my paddock next time if she likes.

A woman pulls up to the pump and rushes into the store. She grabs some basic lipstick from a small selection on our counter.

Customer: “How much is this?”

Me: “$2.69, ma’am.”

Customer: “Crap. I need gas to get home but I only have $5.”

Me: “So, just the gas?”

Customer: “No, I’ll take the lipstick.”

Me: “Are you sure you’ll have enough gas to get home?”

Customer: *Already applying the lipstick* “If I look pretty, I can ask a guy to—” *smacks lips* “—buy some gas for me.”

I finish the transaction with my mouth agape.

Customer: “Usually works.”

Sadly, within minutes… it worked.

I’m a fully-functioning, college-educated adult. I live with my parents because I found a job in my hometown, and rent or property costs are extremely expensive around here. My boss is a bit of an airhead, and my mom is a bit of a worry-wart.

I get home one day, and my mom rushes to meet me at the door and wrap me in a big hug.

Mom: “Oh, thank God! You’re safe!”

Me: “Um… yeah? Why wouldn’t I be safe?”

Mom: “[Boss] called me this morning. He said you weren’t in your office today. The door was locked and the lights were off.”

Me: “I was definitely there. I had an IBS flare-up…”

My boss and most coworkers know I have IBS, in case it ever interferes with my work.

Me: “…so I went down to the restroom a few times, but otherwise, I was there all day. I talked to multiple people who could confirm that. I wonder why [Boss] went straight to calling you instead of calling my cell phone or talking to anyone else in the office.”

Mom: “I don’t know, but I’ve been panicking all day that you were dead in a car crash or something. Thank God you’re okay!”

I talked to my boss the next day to tell him to call ME next time he needs to know where I am, instead of calling my mother. I also told my mom that she can always call me herself to find out where I am. She had somehow never thought of that option after my boss called her.

I’m working at a store that sells, among other things, energy drinks. An older man is looking at one of the energy drink displays, so I go over to see if he needs help.

Customer: “Are these things any good?”

Me: “I like them; my favorite’s the watermelon flavor. “

Customer: “Oh, you shouldn’t get those! Never get the watermelon flavor.”

Me: “Why not?”

Customer: *Sounding completely, 100% serious* “Eating too much watermelon or watermelon flavoring darkens your skin and turns you Black.”

Me: “…” 

Customer: “And I’d rather be dead than Black! Ha! So, no watermelon for me, and you’d better stop eating it, too.”

I regret to say I didn’t have any sort of clever comeback. I just found an excuse to go straighten product in another section until my coworker checked him out. It always stuck out in my memory as one of the weirdest racist things I’ve ever heard.