I’m waiting for my bus to work at the bus station. I see a coworker and start chatting with her. She’s Hispanic, so she’s helping me improve my Spanish. A nearby passenger takes offense to this.

Passenger: “Speak… English! This is America!”

Me: “Mind your own business.”

Passenger: “I’m trying, but you’re ruining everything by speaking that [racial slur] speak! America is English!”

Me: “The US has no official language. Also, this is Florida, dip-s***. Good luck telling people not to speak Spanish here.”

Passenger: “The President is gonna end people like you; you’ll see. You’ll be too scared to speak Spanish then.”

Me: “Hey, so you know ‘Mar A Lago’ is Spanish, right?”

My coworker and I were able to continue practising Spanish while the racist a**hole’s few brain cells fractured from the cognitive dissonance…

I’m at a Greyhound bus station. It’s five minutes to midnight, and I buy a last-minute ticket. The woman at the ticket desk has a strong Southern accent, which I remember because we are definitely not in the American South. She’s kind, awesome, and we have a friendly chat as I buy my ticket.

Ticket Booth Worker: “You have a nice journey now.”

Me: “You, too! I hope you’re not working much longer!”

Ticket Booth Worker: “I clock out in three minutes!”

I sit down and go through my phone while I wait for the bus. Another customer walks up to the ticket booth worker a couple of minutes later and says:

Customer: “A ticket to Washington, DC.”

Ticket Booth Worker: “All right, one ticket to ‘Warshington’.”

Customer: “There ain’t no ‘R’ in Washington.”

Ticket Booth Worker: “There ain’t no ‘R’ in ‘f*** you,’ neither! This winder’s closed!”

She slams the window closed, and I’m sitting there laughing so loud that the guy is immediately embarrassed, and he moves over to the other ticket window and behaves himself this time.