Customer: “So, I have these two swim cover-ups, and you guys forgot to take the security tags off.”

Me: “I’m sorry about that! I can get those off for you, but if I could see a receipt, that usually makes security happy.”

Customer: “No, but I swear to God I bought them here.”

(I take the swimsuit cover-ups out. They have no tags, but the security devices are similar to ours. However, the brands are not two I recognize.)

Me: “Are you sure you got them here? These don’t look familiar to me.”

Customer: “Yes, some girlfriends and I were shopping for our cruise a few months ago, so I bought them right here on clearance. They were only, like, fifteen dollars.”

Me: “We didn’t have swimsuits or cover-ups a few months ago, especially not on clearance. We just moved swim back up here from downstairs last week. We’re at [Retail Chain]; are you sure you didn’t mean to park outside [Other Two Anchor Chains]?”

Customer: “No, I bought it here. Right up here, in that corner over there. I bought them right here. I swear to God, I did, I bought them right here. They weren’t that much money.”

Me: “Okay, but my computer isn’t even showing that we carry these brands. So I’m just going to call a manager, okay?”

Customer: “Do whatever, but I need those tags off. I’m going on a cruise and I need them today. I don’t have time for this.”

(The manager comes and hears the whole story, and we have security Google who carries the brands. They are a [Different Retail Chain, not in our mall] exclusive brand.)

Manager: “So, you really will have to go over there and get these off. See?” *shows her on her phone that they aren’t our brand* “I’m afraid it isn’t our policy to remove other people’s security tags.”

Customer: “I didn’t buy them there! I’ve never gone there! I bought them here; I always buy things here. I swear to God they were on clearance. I bought them right here. I don’t know why you won’t believe me.”

Me: “Well, the problem with that is that I’m here 40 hours a week, every week. We did not have swim up here a few months ago; it was downstairs. We did not have any clearance, and those brands are [Different Retail Chain] exclusives, meaning we don’t carry them, we can’t carry them, and we never carried them. So, we can’t take off the security tags because they aren’t our merchandise. I don’t know else I can say this.”

Customer: “You are wrong. You are both wrong. I swear to God! I got them here!”

(My manager ends up taking them off and the customer leaves.)

Manager: “I didn’t really see how else we were going to solve that situation, so security said to just let it go.”

Me: “Well, if she did steal them, we know it wasn’t from us.”

(There is a list of all our toppings behind the line, in front of the customers. I’m dressing a young man’s sandwich. He appears to be an average person.)

Customer: “I guess I’ll have… mayo… and lettuce… What’s…” *slowly as if it’s a foreign word* “…piiickleee…?”

Me: “Pickles?”

Customer: *to himself, quietly* “Pickle… piiiickle.”

Me: “They’re… pickles.”

Customer: “I guess I’ll try some—” *slowly* “—piiiickle.”

Me: “Okay, then…”

Customer: “No, no, never mind, I won’t. I’m not feeling adventurous.”

Me: “No problem, sir.”

(I go on a date with a guy who seems really sweet. He asks me out to dinner at a restaurant right up the road from me that I have been wanting to try for a while. We decide to sit at the bar, since it is Happy Hour.)

Date: “Would you mind doing the Happy Hour menu with me? It’s $5 cocktails, $5 beers, and $5 small plates, so it’s cheaper. We could each get a couple of small plates and make a dinner out of it.”

Me: “That sounds fine to me! I’ve made a meal out of Happy Hour options before!” 

(I am pretty excited because the Happy Hour menu has a lot of small plate options that look really good. We each order a drink.)

Bartender: “Have you guys decided whether you’d like any food tonight?”

Date: “Yeah! Why don’t we start off with one small plate each?” 

Me: “That sounds great.”

(We each order a small plate item and begin to have a pleasant conversation while we nurse our drinks and wait on our food. The food comes quickly and is delicious, but they aren’t kidding that these are small plates. They are about the equivalent of a four-piece chicken nugget — without fries — from a certain fast food restaurant. It’s maybe enough for a small lunch, but certainly not enough for dinner.)

Me: “That was really delicious! I know Happy Hour ends in like half an hour, so should we order more food and a second round of drinks?”

Date: “No, I think I’m good. Maybe another drink. I’m actually getting pretty full.” 

(I am honestly baffled. We’ve had one small appetizer each, yet he is saying he is full.)

Me: “Oh. Okay, well, let’s at least order another round of drinks.” 

(The bartender comes back. Before we can order another round of drinks…)

Date: “Oh, can I get a to-go order?” 

(He then proceeds to ask the bartender for three different entrees and an appetizer TO GO from the full-price main menu.)

Me: *in complete disbelief* “You dipping out on me?” *nervous laughter*

Date: “No, I just know I’ll be hungry later.”

Me: *in my head* “Of course you’ll be hungry later… We only had an appetizer. I’m hungry now!” *out loud* “Well, I’m actually still pretty hungry now, so I think I might order something else.”

Date: “Oh, I didn’t know we were going to eat a lot of food tonight.”

Me: *internally* “You invited me to dinner!“

(I am too embarrassed at this point to try to argue with him. It feels like he is almost food-shaming me for wanting more than an appetizer. He almost immediately changes the subject and starts talking about himself for a while. I keep glancing at my phone to see if Happy Hour is over yet, because I want more food.)

Me: “Happy Hour ends in a few minutes. You sure you don’t want to get more food?” 

Date: “Yeah, I’m sure.” *continues to ramble on and on*

(I’m completely dejected at this point. I’m self-conscious about my weight and have anxiety as it is, so pushing back against something like this makes me really nervous. So, I just sit there with a fake smile on my face, listening to him talk, and attempting to find things to say in response. Finally, half an hour after Happy Hour ends, he looks over at the menu and notices another appetizer that sparks his fancy.)

Date: “Ooooh, this appetizer looks good.” *checks watch* “But dang, Happy Hour is over. Too bad.” 

Me: *screaming internally*

(When the check comes, I don’t even bother offering to contribute. I know that my entire “meal” cost about $10 — $5 for my cocktail and $5 for my small plate. I glance at the bill when he opens it, and it is over $60, meaning he’s ordered himself like $40 worth of food to go, on top of the $10 for his small plate and drink. A few minutes later, we wrap up our date and he gives me a weird side-hug thing.)

Date: “Thanks for taking the time to meet me tonight.” 

Me: “Thanks for ‘dinner.'” 

(Yes, I used air quotes and no, he did not catch on. I then proceeded to stop at a fast food place on my way home to get a $10 dinner that would actually satisfy a grown adult’s appetite. I would have been completely understanding had he not been hungry, not wanted to spend very much, or had he not been feeling well. I’ve had guys say, “Oh, I’m full, but you’re more than welcome to order something else if you’re still hungry,” and similar things. I’ve never had a guy basically shut me down every time I tried to order dinner.  At one point, I even offered to have separate checks so I could just order myself more food. But he weirdly kind of shut that down without being aggressive or outright rude. He just kind of changed the subject. I’ve also NEVER had someone order a to-go order right in the middle of a date, especially while insisting that neither of us should order more food.)

One of my sisters and I are in our twenties and the other one is in her teens. The three of us were at the grocery store a few weeks ago when this happened. We were wandering around discussing stuff when I stopped to look at the stuff on the shelves, so my sisters stopped, as well. I was not paying attention to anything, as usual, but I trusted my sisters to warm me if I was blocking someone or something. 

They saw this woman coming in our general direction with her cart, so one of my sisters moved away and my other sister pushed me closer to the shelves and came closer to me to provide space for the cart. This woman kept coming at me and my sister, and when she was close enough said, “Excuse me,” in a rude tone. I said sorry, sort of a reflex response, and my sister tries to pull me away to make more space for her. 

She kept coming at us and kept saying, “Excuse me,” loudly and still in her rude tone. I kept saying sorry and my sister started trying to push me into the shelves to give her space. It got to the point that this woman’s cart was going to run me over, so my sisters and I looked at her. At this point, I don’t know what we would have done if she was a major b****, as we all hate confrontation. 

Turns out it was one of our neighbours who we know fairly well. She looked at us, said sorry, and laughed. Then, she explained that she’d done it to other neighbours as a “politeness” test or something, and told us that we’d all passed. She then told us that she did it to another neighbour, who we all know to be a nice old lady, and she apparently lost it and was cursing up a storm until she realized it was our neighbour. 

My sisters and I laughed it up with the neighbour and walked away, all feeling very confused. Up to this point, I don’t know how I should feel about her “test.”

(I’m sitting up at the front desk early one morning before most of the sales representatives are in the office. At about 8:15, a woman comes in.)

Me: “Good morning. Can I help you?”

Woman: “Hi. I’m here to see [Representative].”

(I pause for a moment because I know he has not come in yet and the representative in question usually doesn’t get in until around 10:00 am.)

Woman: “Do you know who that is?”

Me: “Uh… yes. [Representative] works in this office. I’m just not sure that he’s in yet. Would you mind if I go check?”

(Sure enough, he’s not in.)

Me: “[Representative] is not here yet. Is your meeting set for 8:30?”

Woman: “Yes, I’m a bit early.”

Me: “That’s fine. I’ve got some work to do here but you can wait in these chairs until he gets in.”

Woman: “Okay. Where am I?”

(She’s really not that old — maybe 35 or 40 — so there’s no chance that she’s got dementia. I’m a little taken aback and not quite sure to respond.)

Me: “You’re at [Company].”

Woman: “Okay. So, is that all that’s here?”

Me: “We’re the only business in this suite in the building, if that’s what you mean. But there are several other businesses in the building, as well as residences on the top floors.”

Woman: “Hmm. So, you sell what here? Insurance stuff?”

Me: “[Company] offers insurance and investments, yes.”

(I seem to have satisfied any questions she has. She gets up and starts poking around the reception area. It’s a small room with two hallways leading off of it, a large desk where I’m sitting, two plush chairs, a coffee table with some flyers on it, and a fake ficus plant by the door. Next to the door, there’s a floor-to-ceiling window so that you can see into the office and out into the hall which has several other offices in it. One of these offices is unmarked and not listed on the building because it’s a government agency. She practically trips over the coffee table getting out of one of the chairs and moves to peer through the window into the hall. But she doesn’t simply look through the window. She crouches behind the ficus and looks out the window towards the unmarked office with its key-card entry. The way that she’s bent, she is blocking the door completely while contorting herself around the fake tree. She looks comical, like someone spying in a cartoon. She turns and looks at me, still crouched.)

Woman: “What is in that office?!” 

(Just as I opened my mouth to tell her, the representative she was there to see swung the door open and they looked at each other in shock. She went back to his office with him at that point, thank goodness. I’m just glad another client didn’t show up.)