I am on the bus one night coming home from a late class. I’m sitting along the side of the bus, opposite the courtesy seats for elderly and disabled people. There’s a middle-aged woman sitting in one of these seats opposite me. For reasons that will become apparent, we’ll call her Bus Hag.

A musician — bass guitar on his back, carrying an amp on a dolly, the whole bit — gets on the bus. He places his amp in front of an empty space, sits on it, and holds the dolly with one hand and the pole with the other. We shall call this man Ponytail Dude.

Bus Hag: “Hey, buddy, can you move that thing? I don’t want it falling on my knee.”

Ponytail Dude: “Sorry?”

Bus Hag: “The dolly. It’s going to fall and hit my legs.”

Ponytail Dude: “It’s not going to fall. I’m holding onto it.”

Bus Hag: “Look, the f****** thing is going to fall.”

Ponytail Dude: “It’s not going to fall.”

Bus Hag: “It’s f****** dangerous. It’s going to fall and break my leg.”

She is, of course, referring to the dolly, which can’t weigh more than five pounds.

Bus Hag: “You’re f****** blocking the aisle, buddy. It’s dangerous. You’re a f****** sociopath! Blocking the aisle, blocking me, you’re creating a dangerous situation.”

Passenger #1: “Shut the f*** up, lady. He’s not hurting anybody.”

Bus Hag: “Watch your f****** language, buddy. Someone better wash your mouth out.”

Passenger #1: “Wash your mouth. You’re the one swearing.”

Passenger #2: “F*** off, you old bat.”

Bus Hag: “I should wash your mouth out.”

Passenger #3: “Shut up.”

At this point, Bus Hag returns her anger to Ponytail Dude, who has said very little in the past few minutes. She pulls out her phone and — rather obviously — tries to take a photo of Ponytail Dude, but he blocks her camera.

Bus Hag: “Get your f****** hand out of my face!”

Ponytail Dude: “Don’t take my picture.”

Bus Hag: “I was checking my f****** Facebook!”

Me: “You know we can hear your camera from over here, right?”

Bus Hag: “F*** you, you little s***. I was checking my f****** Facebook.”

Me: “We heard your camera. Were you maybe taking a self-portrait of you checking Facebook? By the way, I think your duck-face needs work.”

Bus Hag: “F*** off.”

Passenger #2: “Shut up, lady.”

I turn to Ponytail Dude, regarding the amp.

Me: “Could you pick that up and just drop it on me?” *Removing my hat* “Just right here, I want to forget this whole d*** experience as soon as possible.”

Finally, Bus Hag gives up and moves to the back.

Me: “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Passenger #1: “Hey, lady, you forgot your broomstick!”

Ponytail Dude: “Sad thing is, I’ve actually been on the bus with her before.”

Me: “I pity you, my friend. I am truly sorry for you.”

(I am working graveyards at a popular burger joint, and on this particular night the kitchen is being cleaned. This means every single appliance has been disconnected and pulled away from the wall so that the grease buildup behind them can be cleared out by a contractor specializing in industrial kitchen cleanup. NOTHING is plugged in, the entire kitchen has been dismantled, and we are closed for business until morning. Around 2 AM I go outside for a smoke break, when a truck pulls up to the drive-thru.)

Me: “Sorry, our kitchen is being cleaned so we’re closed right now.”

Driver: “WELL THEN WHERE THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO EAT?!?”

Me: “…. they’re open.” *points to another all-night place not 20 feet away*

Driver: *makes a disgusted noise and drives off in a squeal of rubber, completely ignoring the other restaurant*

(What I REALLY wanted to say was ‘I don’t know, and–letting you in on a little secret here–I DON’T CARE!’)

I’m 31 and I’ve worked in retail for 12 years. Currently I work at the Canadian equivalent of Whole Foods. Our customers tend to be the dumbest and richest people you’ve ever ever met.

Everything about the following interaction was wrong.
10 years ago I thought it was bad enough having women twice my age asking me how to pump gas.
The other night I had a woman younger than me ask me:
“How does the shopping cart work?”
I am not joking. This in fact happened after she put her child in the seat and tried to push it. I explained it was locked because someone tried to take it out of the store. Then I unlocked it in front of her while her child was still in the seat. I stood up and looked at her afterwards.
“Will it work now?”
“Yes.”

Sometimes I wonder why I have be around humans every day.

-Misanthropic Quandary #420
“What is she smoking and where can I get some?”

I work in a grocery store in downtown Vancouver. Our store closes at 9:00pm and today there was a lady there five minutes after closing and she comes up to my till

Lady: Can I just leave my stuff here while I go grab something?
Me: Sure.
Lady: That other cashier was so pushy when I asked her that.
I then proceed to explain to her we’ve been closed for five minutes…which would explain the my coworker being pushy.
Lady: I’ve shopped her everyday and I know you guys will get out of here on time.
-Then runs off to get her item (It’s peanut butter) and I scan her items and double bag them (because she will ask me to)
Lady: You know you’re very rude and there’s something called customer service. It’s only 9:05pm, you’re going to leave on time. (I think we’re already 5 minutes behind schedule. How are we going to leave on time?)

I try to explain to her that we’re closed and that we (the staff are ALL waiting for her to leave because we need to cash up and clean up)

Lady: I’m spending $30 here and you should try to please the customer first. i come here everyday and spend lots of money. I’m spending $30 ok?

Me: Your total is $30.70

She pays with her debit card

Lady: Double bag my stuff.

Me: Its already double bagged.

Lady: Double bag my items!! (She’s very frustrated at this point)

Me: ITS ALREADY DOUBLED BAGGED

She leaves and while she’s leaving she compaint to manager who lets her out of the store.

A friend of mine has invited me along with some other friends to play in a tabletop roleplaying game. The setting is fourteenth-century France. I speak French fluently; my friend has very limited French.

Friend: “Okay, so, the neighbourhood you guys are going to settle in is called Port du Rhin.”

He pronounces it as rhyming with “tin”.

Friend: “I chose this one because I think I can pronounce it.”

Me: “Could you spell that for me?”

Friend: “R-H-I-N.” *Pause* “What?”

Me: “Nothing.”

Friend: “I’m saying it wrong.”

Me: “Um… a little bit.”

Friend: “How should you say it?”

Me: “Rhin.”

For people who don’t speak French, the word consists of two sounds that don’t exist in English. It sounds vaguely like you coughed while saying the word “ran” and didn’t finish closing the “n”.

Friend: *Pauses* “I have chosen poorly. Moving on…”