(My car is in for service at its dealership, and I am waiting by the service desk to sign the paperwork to get it back.)

Employee: “Oh! Oh! Oh! Is your name Bella?!”

Me: “What?”

Employee: “Bella! Like from Twilight! You know, Twilight, right? Your name matches!”

(Note: my full name is not printed on the paperwork, only my first initial and my last name. While my initials match Bella’s, this is, in fact, not my name.)

Me: “My name isn’t on the paper.”

Employee: “Have you ever been to Washington?”

Me: “I visited… once?”

Employee: “Oh-em-gee! Bella’s real! I met Bella! Is Edward as dreamy in real life?”

Me: “I… just… please let me sign for my car?”

Employee: “Aw.”

(I work as a receptionist at my local dealership answering the phones.)

Caller: “I need to have my car towed to your dealership. Do you have a service for that, or one that you can recommend?”

Me: “We do, but it’s expensive. Can you tell me more about the problem so we can try and help you before resorting to that?”

Caller: “Oh, sure! Well, I think my key remote is dead, so I can’t unlock my car. Because I can’t unlock it, I can’t get anywhere! This is my only car, and I rely on it. I need to get it unlocked as soon as possible.”

Me: “Ma’am, have you tried putting the key into the keyhole on the door?”

Caller: “What? Cars still have that? I don’t think mine does, but I’ll go check.”

(About a minute passes…)

Caller: “Oh, my God! You’re my hero! It totally worked! Thank you so much!”

(I am sixteen. I work in a car dealership’s customer service department on weekends.)

Me: “Service department, [My Name] speaking, how may I help you?”

(An elderly customer answers.)

Customer: “I’m having a hard time finding your dealership. Can someone give me directions?”

Me: “Sure, can you tell me where you are now?”

(I begin giving her directions when she interrupts me.)

Customer: “No, I need someone else to give me directions.”

Me: “I know exactly where you are, and it’s very easy to get here. All you have to do is—”

Customer: “No. No, I need a man to give me directions.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “I need a man to give me directions.”

Me: “Okay, just give me a moment.”

(I page my male co-worker, but he is busy with another customer.)

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but he’s busy. Can I give you directions now?”

Customer: “No, I need to speak to a man. I’ll wait.”

(I go talk to another co-worker and explain the situation. He answers the phone and gives her directions. Twenty minutes later, she arrives.)

Me: “Good afternoon.”

Customer: “Ugh, I had the hardest time getting here.”

Me: “Oh, really? Which way did you go?”

(She explains.)

Me: “If I were you I would have gone this way…”

(I once again explain the exact same directions I gave to her on the phone.)

Customer: “Well, that would have been so much easier! I wish I had gotten you on the phone!”

Me: “Actually, you did. Please help yourself to a complimentary beverage.”

(The lady blushes and then hurries to our waiting room.)

(There is a car sale going on at the dealership my sister’s boyfriend works at, and he promises my mom a good deal. My mother insists I come along so she can use my credit. Note: I work the graveyard shift, so I’m very very tired in the day.)

Me: *yawning*

Sister’s Boyfriend: “Have a seat, you two. I’ll be back in a sec.” *leaves*

(We wait a long time, but my sister’s boyfriend never comes back. Finally another salesman, an old man, approaches.)

Salesman: “Do you need any help?”

Mom: “Well, [sister’s boyfriend’s name] was helping us, but we don’t know where he went.”

Salesman: “I can help you.”

Mom: “Well…”

(My mom glances uncertainly at my sister’s boyfriend in the back. He sees her and comes out to speak to the salesman.)

Sister’s Boyfriend: *to the salesman* “Just show her the different types of cars and I’ll be right there.”

(The salesman shows my mom the cars, while I trail, yawning and doing my best not to fall asleep.)

Mom: “Yes we are using her—” *points to me* “—credit.”

Salesman: “What’s wrong with her? Is she r*tarded in the head?”

(I’ve been drowsy up to this point, but hearing him insult me instantly wakes me up.)

Me: “Excuse me?!”

Salesman: “How old are you, little girl?”

Me: “I’m 37, and I don’t appreciate your stupid assumptions. Mom, let’s go!”

(My mom finally agrees and tells the salesman to cancel everything. He does, very sourly. On the way out, my sister’s boyfriend stops us. My mom explains that she thought that he would give us a deal like he promised, not foist us off to someone else. My sister’s boyfriend turns to glare at the salesman, who’s chain-smoking in the back and glowering at us.)

Me: “I can’t believe he would say that! And [sister’s boyfriend’s name] was an idiot.”

(My sister broke up with her boyfriend soon after that. My mom got her car somewhere else.)

(My uncle is gay, but isn’t flamboyant. He works as a service advisor at a car dealership. He is scheduling an appointment for an elderly customer.)

Uncle: “All right. So, if you come in next week we can fix your car. However, I am going to be on vacation next week, so you’ll need to see [other service advisor].”

Customer: “Ah, that’s all right. Where are you heading to?”

Uncle: “I’m going to Cape Cod.”

Customer: “Well, be careful up there.”

Uncle: “Why?”

Customer: “Cause up there’s Queersville.”

Uncle: “Uh… excuse me?!”

Customer: “Queersville; it’s full of f**s!”

Uncle: *calmly* “Thank you for warning me. I’ll be sure to tell my boyfriend, ’cause he sure hates f**s!”

Customer: *turns pales and leaves*