(While driving in the car with my five-year-old daughter, I eavesdrop on an imaginary conversation that she has decided to have with Michael Jackson. She is switching back and forth between his voice and her own.)

Michael’s Voice: “But why don’t you like me?”

Daughter’s Voice: “You look creepy. And you sound like a girl.”

Michael’s Voice: “But…”

Daughter’s Voice: “I don’t care. Why are you even here? This is our car.”

(I should probably have her checked out.)

This story is part of our Creepy Kids roundup!

Read the next Creepy Kids roundup story!

Read the Creepy Kids roundup!

(I am pregnant and need to buy maternity clothes. So, I go to a big retailer that sells, among other things, maternity clothes.)

Me: “Excuse me, miss. Could you please show me where I can find the maternity clothes?”

Clerk: “Maternity clothes? It’s not the season for that!”

Me: “I didn’t know there was a season for maternity clothes. Are you sure you don’t have any?”

Clerk: “I told you, it’s not the season for maternity clothes!”

Me: *giving up* “Okay, I just have to go somewhere else, then. Thanks anyway…”

Clerk: *yelling after me* “Good luck with that, stupid! Remember I told you, it’s not in season. You won’t find any!”

(I’m working for a call center on a forced third shift night. It is on my third day of no sleep.)

Me: *still upbeat and cheery* “Thank you for calling [Company]. My name is [My Name]. I’m sorry; our systems are updating, but I’d be more than happy to answer any general questions or concerns that you may have.”

Caller: *vindictively* “So, I got Mr. Ryan Seacrest on the phone now?!”

Me: “My apologies, sir, but my name is—”

Caller: “So, I have to talk to some little pansy **** **** who sounds like Moviefone to give me what I want?!”

Me: “Sir, if you—”

Caller: “So, I have to play with this Moviefone Directory to get what I want?!”

(The caller starts to randomly press buttons on the phone while continuing to cuss up a storm.)

Caller: “Are you still there Ryan Seacrest?! Did you hang up on me?!”

Me: “No, I did not, sir. I was just waiting for you to finish before I—”

Caller: “Oh,  so Mr. Seacrest has the nerves to talk to me?!”

Me: “Sir, if you want access to an account, I must apologize but with the update running here in the facility we are not able to pull up any account info. If—”

Caller: “I don’t need anything from Ryan Seacrest or Moviefone!”

Me: “Sir, this is [Company], not Moviefone.”

Caller: “So, Mr. Seacrest thinks he’s so smart!”

Me: “Sir, do you have an account with [Company]?”

Caller: “Who?”

Me: “Due to policy, I have been instructed that I am allowed to end this call. Thank you and have a nice day.”

Caller: “I’m not done degrading you!”

Me: *click*

(A male customer comes in looking for the copiers to enlarge a photo. I assist him with his copies and then return to my register. The customer continues to browse the baskets by the register.)

Customer: *holds up a flashlight* “What’s this?”

Me: “That’s a flashlight, sir.”

Customer: *holds up a packet of Post-its* “What’s this?”

Me: “Those are Post-it flags. They have adhesive on the back of one end so you can use them to mark pages in books.”

Customer: “Adhesive, huh? Sure…” *gives me a knowing smile*

Me: *confused*

Customer: *holds up some speakers* “So, what are these? Little TVs?”

Me: “No, sir… those are speakers.”

Customer: *looks slightly alarmed* “Speakers? For what?”

Me: “For a computer, sir.”

Customer: *rolls eyes* “Computers! You know, I feel terrible for leaving here without a present for the grandkids, but EVERYTHING you sell these days is poison or dynamite! It’s not SAFE!” *storms out of the store*

(I am working the prescription counter when a big, burly six-foot or so tall man comes to the counter. I am a female.)

Me: “Hello, how can I help you?”

Customer: “Um, I think…” *trails off*

Me: “I’m sorry, sir… could you say that again?”

Customer: *leans in close* “I think I got my first period.”

Me: *speechless*

Customer: “I’m bleeding down there, and I’m really hurting in my stomach.”

Me: “Sir, men don’t get those. You need to go to the hospital.”

Customer: “I knew you girls would be insensitive! I’m leaving!”

(I didn’t see him again. I still hope he got to a hospital!)