(I’m walking from the bus stop down a quiet residential street around 11 at night. I’m dressed like an average college student; I’m in a sweater and pants with a backpack, and I have a reusable bag with some shopping on my shoulder. The particular street section I’m on has no sidewalks, so I’m walking at the edge of the road by the parked cars. The street is completely deserted, but suddenly a truck shows up from somewhere, stops by me, and starts crawling along.)

Male Driver: *shouting at me* “Do you need help?”

(I’m weirded out and don’t answer, just keep walking.)

Male Driver: *shouting* “Do you need help?”

(I don’t answer.)

Male Driver: *shouting insistently* “Hey! Hey! Do you need help?”

(The truck is following along with me. I glance over; it’s a white, middle-aged guy, and maybe my eyes were just playing tricks on me in the dark but I’d swear he is wearing a cowboy hat. Any way you slice it, I want absolutely nothing to do with him. Meanwhile, he keeps on shouting, “Do you need help?” on endless repeat. I scuttle away from him, off the road toward the lawn of one of the houses, while giving him a very obvious freaked-out look in order to send a clear message: I’m not going to come anywhere near your truck in a million years, dude, and if you try anything, I’m going to run and start knocking on doors here for help. He finally gets the message and drives off. A couple of days later, I’m walking on that street again at the same time, in similar clothes and with my shopping bag, and when I get to the same exact part of the street, which is again deserted, a four-door car comes by and stops near me.)

Female Driver: *shouting at me* “Do you need help?”

(I glance sideways surreptitiously. This time, it’s a 35- to 45-year-old white woman, possibly with someone sitting in her passenger seat, but I can’t see clearly enough to be sure. I ignore her and walk on.)

Female Driver: *shouting* “Do you need help?”

(I don’t respond.)

Female Driver: *shouting* “Do you need help?”

(Boy, is she persistent. I walk past her car while making a decent pretence of being distracted by my phone. I also have earbuds in.)

Female Driver: *leaning out her car window and calling after me* “Do you need help? Do you need help? Do you need help? Do you need help? Do you need help? Do you need help?” *all while sounding inexplicably more and more entreating and outright desperate*

(I kid you not, I thought she’d fall out that window with how she was stretching toward me, and she didn’t stop calling after me until I finally walked out of sight. In the moment, the best way I could think of dealing with the weirdness was just acting like I didn’t see or hear her at all. Anyway, I don’t really think it was that safe to come up to talk to her on a deserted street just because she’s a woman. I’ve been wondering on and off if the man and woman were married or siblings or the like; it was way too much of a coincidence for two people to act identically within a couple of days of each other, on the exact same stretch of the street. For the record, I live a five minute walk from there. It’s MY neighborhood, just as much as theirs — if they even lived there themselves and weren’t just super-weird visitors. The only “help” I ever need while walking in my own neighbourhood, regardless of time of day or night, is figuring out a good way of getting rid of these sorts of creepy busybodies, without putting myself in danger by talking to them. Please don’t ever do things like this to someone just because they’re walking on some street alone at night; all this accomplishes is freaking us out and really annoying us.)

(Finishing up a car rental:)

Me: “…and you’re all set! Enjoy your visit!”

Customer: “Make sure that I don’t get no [ethnic slur] car! I fought in the Pacific theater in Dubya-Dubya two, and we shot them monkeys outta the trees! I ain’t gonna take no [ethnic slur] car!”

Me: “…”

(I really enjoy drinking tea, and prefer loose-leaf tea. I keep a couple of air-tight, cylindrical containers full of tea in my office. I have just restocked one with some black tea pearls. This is tea that is compressed and shaped like little balls, which expand as they steep. I have just come back from a meeting to find a coworker in my office dumping my tea into the trash.)

Me: “What are you doing?!”

Coworker: “I was hungry and I saw you putting snacks in your snack jar, so I ate a few but they’re rotten. I’m throwing them out so no one else gets sick.”

Me: “Out! Get out! Don’t ever touch my things. If you’re hungry, bring your own food!”

Coworker: “I’m just doing you a favor; you could say, ‘Thank you.'”

Me: “No! You just tossed over a $100 worth of tea in the garbage!”

Coworker: “Well, it tastes awful, so you’re welcome.”

(She then flounced out, and still refuses to see that she did anything wrong. Thankfully, my garbage was empty and just had a clean plastic bag in it, so I was able to rescue my tea. On the bright side, she now gives me, and my office, a wide berth because of my negative attitude.)

(A customer has just asked to mix two sundae flavors together. She picks the two flavors that have the most toppings in them. They’re hell to top on their own; together is going to be miserable. My manager clarifies with her in case she doesn’t realize exactly what comes with each.)

Manager: “Ma’am, that is a lot of toppings to put in. That’s going to be two different kinds of cookie pieces, chocolate chips, peanut butter, strawberries, and cheesecake pieces; are you sure that’s what you want?”

Customer: “Jesus f****** Christ! Can you do it or not?”

Manager: *gritting his teeth* “I’ll have that right out.”

Customer: “Hey, wait, can I have an application? Are you hiring?”

(Later, after she’s finished her application, she waves me over impatiently from where I’m busy taking an order so she can ask me to get my manager back to her.)

Manager: “I really won’t be hiring for another month, just so you know.”

Customer: “Well, can’t you just hire sooner?”

(I asked my manager if he would consider her, because she seemed like a bundle of sunshine to work with, but he said no.)

(I have been working at [Skater Clothing Outlet] for a few months. As a newer sales kid, I have yet to lose my wide-eyed wonder of the job. I have therefore been always eager to help everybody; I sometimes get in a little trouble for my over-enthusiastic lack of a filter. I have never had a customer complain about me, nor have customers ever mentioned me directly to my manager, until one day. We are having a meeting like any other; it’s a week before black Friday, so we are prepping for our big sale. Everything is normal until the end of the employee meeting.)

Manager: *in a serious, you’re-in-trouble voice* “[My Name], I need to speak with you in private.”

(All eyes turn to me, I can hear murmurs from the crew gossiping amongst themselves as I follow my manager.)

Manager: “I had a woman come in today, and she had a few serious words with me about you.”

Me: *scared stiff* “O-oh… What about?”

Manager: “She said that–” *her face suddenly lightens up* ”–you were fantastic. She brought her daughter in, and whatever you did you made that girl smile for the first time in years.”

Me: *suddenly very relieved* “Oh, thank God. Why did you make it seem like I was in trouble?”

(She grins.)

Manager: “Because that’s what she did to me! She walked in all mean-looking and angry. She went all–” *she puffs up like an angry soccer mom* “–‘Are you the Manager?!’ I thought you murdered her dog or something before she lightened up.”