(I sell bets on horses in the restaurant at my local casino. On race nights, minors are allowed in the dining room via the family entrance. We card many people just to be sure that they are old enough to wager on the horses because anyone can get in. I look very young for my age and often use this as a joke when I card people who appear to be the same age as me. I just finished serving a table who had some kids with them.)

Me: “Any other bets?”

Kid: *no older than eleven* “Can I bet?”

Me: “Sorry, but you have to be nineteen to bet.”

Kid: *smugly* “But what if I am nineteen?”

Me: “Then you’d need ID to prove it. Sorry, bud, but if I look like I’m twelve, you’re at least seven.”

(I was bullied terribly through all of public school and high school. I was short, got glasses at a young age, and was raised very religious. My particular faith was not common where I grew up. Bullies liked to pick on this, but often didn’t know enough about my faith to be accurate. This story is one particularly bad and ignorant example. Although I am not Muslim, some students take to calling me “Muslim” as some kind of derogatory nickname. I finally get the courage to discuss the problem with my teacher, who agrees to sit down with me and the two worst bullies. For context, we are all male, and this is eighth grade.)

Me: “They won’t stop calling me names. They call me ‘Muslim’ as if it’s my name.”

Teacher: “What do you mean? Are you a Muslim?”

Me: “No. But they keep saying things like, ‘I don’t want to work with Muslim,’ or, ‘Don’t let Muslim talk to us.’”

Teacher: *to other students* “Why would you call him that?”

Student #1: *making up a desperate excuse* “We thought he really was a Muslim.”

Student #2: *playing along* “Yeah, we thought he was one, so how can it be bad?”

Me: “I told you both repeatedly that I am not, and you’re using it as an insult, and to exclude me.”

(There are a few minutes of he-said-she-said.)

Teacher: “Okay, [Student #1] and [Student #2], stop calling him that from now on. You can all go now.”

(The other students run out of the office quickly, but I stay behind a moment.)

Me: *verge of tears* “So, that’s it? Months of teasing, and you’re not going to do anything.”

Teacher: “Well… they thought you were a Muslim, so…”

Me: “Shouldn’t that actually make it worse?”

(The next day, my teacher is talking to another teacher as I pass by in the hallway. I know that [Teacher #2]’s husband is the same faith that I am. I say this as I walk by:)

Me: *to [Teacher #2]* “Out of the way, Muslim!”

Teacher #2: “How dare you?! That’s the rudest thing I’ve ever heard! Principal’s office, now!”

Me: “It’s okay. I thought you were really a Muslim—“ *locks eyes with my teacher* “—so that makes it okay, right, [Teacher]?”

(My teacher looked super embarrassed as I completely walked away, but from then on, [Teacher #2] would give me knowing looks, and she defended me from bullies the rest of the year. She must have asked my teacher what I meant. I can only imagine that conversation.)

Customer: “Do you have [Any Obscure, Out-Of-Print Book]?”

Me: “No, and it’s not likely that we will ever see it traded in here.”

Customer: “Really? Why not?”

Me: “Well, with a population in the area of less than 65,000, I usually only take in the mass-market paperbacks that people have bought at Costco or elsewhere, and then some others which we know that we can resell fairly quickly.”

Customer: “But there are so many good novels out there!”

Me: “Yes, at last estimate there are over ten million books currently in print. Which ones should I decide to stock in my 1,500 square-foot of store space? Let me help you with that answer: the most likely to sell and keep me in business.”

Customer: “Where are all the books by British authors?”

Me: “If they are fiction, then in General Fiction; if mystery, then Mystery, etc.”

Customer: “You don’t separate them by country?”

Me: “Well, they don’t come in with a flag sticker or anything on them, so…”

Customer: “Then how will I know if they are British?”

Me: “This isn’t a liquor store, and these aren’t wines.”

(I work at a fast food restaurant that is famous for their bacon burger that comes standard as a double, but you can order it as single or triple, instead.)

Customer: “Hi. Could I have a double [Bacon Burger] and a regular [Bacon Burger].”

Me: “[Bacon Burger] is regularly a double burger; did you want two doubles?”

Customer: “No, I want a double and a regular.”

Me: “Do you want a double and a single?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “No problem. Just so there’s no confusion when you’re trying to order next time, if you order a regular [Bacon Burger] you’ll get a double one. Ask for a single to make sure you get the right thing. Was there anything else I can get for you tonight?”

Customer: “No, just the double [Bacon Burger] and the regular [Bacon Burger].”

(The customer was rolling her eyes at me throughout the whole interaction. Sorry, lady, I’m just trying to do my job so you don’t come back and yell at me for getting the wrong thing!)