(I work at a popular toy store in my town, and the new collection of Star Wars toys just came out. The store is very busy today and we have run out of stock for a few items. Due to their pretty high price, we didn’t expect them to sell as quickly. Most people who want them are understanding, but there’s one customer who has become a regular, and a very unpopular one, at that. She always targets the new employees, it seems, never attacking the same employee twice. Sadly, I end up on that shift.)

Customer: “Do you have any more of the [out of stock toy]?”

Me: “I’m sorry. We ran out about an hour ago. We have another store in [City about four minutes away], or we will be getting a new shipment in tonight and you could pick it up tomorrow.”

Customer: “How dare you refuse me service?! It’s because I’m black, isn’t it?!”

Me: “No, ma’am, I would not discriminate. The item is out of stock at this store. Again, you can—”

Customer: “You racist b****! How dare you?! I am going to get you fired!”

Me: “I do not see how I am—”

Customer: “Don’t you back talk me! Respect your elders, you racist b****!”

(I’m in a bit of a panic, not really sure what I am supposed to do or say. I reach for my walkie-talkie. I quickly realize that was a bad idea.)

Customer: “DON’T YOU DARE!” *the customer suddenly lunges at me* “DON’T YOU DARE ASSAULT ME WITH YOUR WEAPONS!”

(Luckily, an off duty cop was there to pick up a toy for his son. He pulled the woman off of me and arrested her right there. I was actually the first person attacked by her. I found out later she usually just screamed at the employee to the point of tears. Everyone still jokes about how I was taken down over a child’s toy, and how I ended up with a sprained wrist.)

(My teacher shares this story that took place several years ago, when she was beginning to teach. Although she gives out study guides, she’s always been very strict with tests, and this was one of the reasons of why.)

Teacher: *as she’s passing out tests* “Take everything off of your desks besides your writing utensil. If you haven’t already, turn your phones off. Before I give you a test, you have to show me your hands. I already went over this last class, but I will reiterate: If I see you on your phone, you will get an automatic fail. If I see your book open or out, you will get an automatic fail. If I see anything written on your hands, you will fail. If I suspect you of cheating at all, I will rip up your test and fail you. Is that clear? Are there any questions before you begin?”

(A student sitting in the front row, practically beside her, raises his hand.)

Teacher: “Yes?”

Student: *somewhat smugly* “You mentioned if they wrote on their hands. You forgot about if they wrote the answer on their arms.”

(She thinks the statement is a bit odd, as she will be watching her students to make sure they aren’t cheating, anyway, but thinks that’s fair to include.)

Teacher: “Hmm, good point. I guess I hadn’t thought about that. Would you care to roll up your sleeves for me to check?”

Student: *goes white and withdraws hand* “Uh… No?”

Teacher: “…”

(Turns out, the same student had written answers all over his arms. How he thought he would get away with that during the test, let alone pointing it out to the teacher at all, was baffling. As a Psychology professor, however, she found it oddly fitting or at least incredibly interesting that this flawed logic was present in her class of Abnormal Psychology. The student still failed, obviously.)

(I work in a call center where existing customers can get support. As many call centers do, we have a script for call opening so we can quickly pull up account information.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Company]. This is [My Name] speaking. May I start with your name and home address?”

Caller: *irate* “How dare you ask for my name?! That is the rudest thing I have ever heard! You should wait for me to introduce myself! Were you ever taught manners? I don’t care what your managers say; it is completely unacceptable to ask for my name!”

(The customer continued to rant along these lines for a full five minutes before giving me the opportunity to speak, and even then, I had to apologize for the very standard practice of asking for his name before he would tell me what his problem was, so I could help him! He does this same thing every time he calls, and I suspect he must do the same thing with every other call center he speaks with.)

(One of my coworkers is extremely friendly and makes conversation with all the customers. This particular customer is a regular, so my coworker knows a bit about her. This happens as I am running the cash register.)

Coworker: “So, how’s the daughter?”

Guest: “She’s doing well, playing the clarinet.”

Coworker: “Did you play in high school?”

Guest: “Oh, no. I was blowing something else in high school… the old skin flute, so to speak.”

(I was completely speechless and was trying so hard not to laugh I had to walk away!)

(I work at a popular sushi restaurant as a cashier and hostess, and I am also responsible for takeout orders. We are so busy, we quite literally have no open seats this night. I am between takeout orders, trying to solve a glitch in the system, when the owner comes up and asks me to not stand around and to instead fill up people’s waters. The owner just recently bought the place and does not yet know how to do anything, especially not my job — this is important — and is also incredibly socially inept, to the point that the staff and regulars know to avoid him. I tell him that I am not allowed to serve, by the terms of my work permit, due to my age.)

Owner: “It’s only alcohol you cannot serve.”

Me: “Sorry. The school, who issued my permit, told me I was not allowed to serve people at all. I don’t really want any legal problems. I’m not 16, yet.”

Owner: *glaring* “Let’s have a chat outside.”

(I follow him out and away from the entrance.)

Owner: “I need you to tone down the attitude.”

Me: *genuinely confused* “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to come across as sassy—”

Owner: “You are.”

Me: “Can you give me an example, so I know what to improve on? I’m not sure what you are referring to.”

Owner: “You’re just a 15-year-old little girl; you shouldn’t even be here. I wouldn’t have hired you if I knew you were 15.”

Me: “Here’s my work permit, if you want to see it.”

Owner: “It’s busy right now; I don’t have time for that! I just need you to tone down the attitude. And don’t go crying to the manager every time you don’t want to do something. Go fill people’s water.”

(He is referring to the time he asked me to clean the fingerprints off our glass doors. I went to the manager — currently out of town — to ask what I was supposed to use, and she told me it was actually my coworker’s job, done at the end of the night, and that I shouldn’t worry about it.)

Me: “I was told by my school, when they gave me the permit, that I cannot do that.”

Owner: *visibly angry* “Who do you work for, me or your school?! Don’t talk back to me; do you understand?!”

Me: *walking away* “Yes. I won’t, because I quit. I don’t need this.”

(Since I’m 15, I can’t drive, so I grab my stuff and wait outside for my ride. My shift would have ended 30 minutes after this conversation.)

Owner: *visibly panicking* “Come inside and finish your shift. Act like an adult!”

Me: “I mean, you just called me a little girl, so why would I? I. Quit. You want to call me sassy? I can be sassy; nothing’s stopping me, now.”

Owner: “You really want to start this now?”

Me: “Yes.”

Owner: “Don’t cause a scene for the customers; it’s bad for business.”

(The owner went back inside, but came back three more times to offer me my job back, because the restaurant was absolutely packed, he had no idea how to run it, and no one else could spare the time to do the jobs I left behind. I felt bad for leaving my coworkers hanging on such a busy night, but they usually just avoided him and did their own jobs, anyway, so hopefully I only screwed him over.)