(I am sitting in the waiting room of my local GP, where a mother and her son have arrived for their appointment.)

Receptionist: “Miss [Name], I think [Son] needs the toilet.”

Mother: “No, he does that when he’s getting ready. That’s his potty dance.”

Receptionist: “Sorry, but I think he’s trying to tell you he really needs to go.”

Mother: “I’m his mother. I know my son better than anyone. He’ll be ready in a couple of minutes. I’ll take him after his dance.”

(The receptionist protested again, and the mother threatened to complain about her. The boy stopped dancing around a few minutes later, and it looked like he was in a lot of pain. Just as his mother was about to take him to the toilet, the doctor called them in and she decided to force her son to wait again. He could barely move and we were all a bit worried. I was called in to see my doctor next. By the time I left, there were police officers in the building, and I could hear hysterical screaming coming from one of the rooms. As I walked by, I heard one of the receptionists saying, “Imagine using a paperclip to keep it shut.”)

(I’m driving my nine-year-old daughter. My daughter asks me to play the soundtrack quiz game. She hasn’t seen many of the movies in the game, she only knows the music. English isn’t our first language.)

Me: *hums the theme from “Schindler’s List”*

Daughter: “I KNOW THAT ONE! S***-LIST!”

I have very light skin and come from a not very diverse area. My first exposure to people with darker skin tones was when I saw Mowgli in The Jungle Book.

When I was about three-and-a-half years old, I was at the store with my father and, to my amazement, I saw a black man. I immediately asked my dad, loud enough that everyone could hear, “IS HE FROM THE JUNGLE?!”

My dad apologized to the man and hurried out of the store, leaving his cart full of items behind.  

I got a huge lecture in the car, and my father did his shopping elsewhere for a few months. My dad will never let me live this down.

(I work on a roller coaster where the height requirement is 48″. If we think a guest is under the height requirement, they can’t ride. This particular day, I notice a little girl in high platform sandals is boarding. I approach her and her father.)

Me: “Sorry for the inconvenience, but do you mind if we check your daughter’s height?”

Guest: “Sure, but I paid for an adult ticket.”

(I take the little girl to the height scale and have her remove her shoes. I measure her barefoot, and she’s way too short.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but it doesn’t look like she’s tall enough to ride. If you want to stay on, she can wait in the kiddie corral—”

Guest: “She’s tall enough! You can’t make her take her shoes off!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. That’s the company policy.”

Guest: “Measure her again! She’s tall enough! I paid for an adult ticket!”

(At this point, my supervisor comes over.)

Supervisor: “Sir, the height scale showed that she isn’t tall enough to ride. For her safety, she has to be 48 inches.”

Guest: “Your f****** employee made her take her shoes off! That’s not fair! I paid for an ADULT TICKET!”

Supervisor: “Sir, the tickets are based on age and not height. If you continue to cause a scene, we’ll have to call security.”

Guest: “F*** THIS RIDE! C’mon, honey, let’s go ride the Banshee!”

(The Banshee has a height requirement of 54″. The guest stormed off screaming about an adult ticket.)

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(I have taught swimming lessons for many years, and have just started a program for swimmers with special needs. One family wishes to register their son, who is prone to violent outbursts, and was banned from swimming lessons because he choked a kid and held him under water. His parents chalk it up to his medical condition, and decide to try a one-to-one environment to see if it’s successful. His parents also want it during a busy lesson slot that his brother is in, when we really need extra instructors. They solely want this so they can attend a workout class. Luckily, it’s summer, so we’re able to get an extra instructor with no problem. After two lessons, I am having a hard time with him leaving the little pool or wanting to do any swimming. To make matters worse, he will not leave the water after the lessons are done until his parents show up. He is almost 12 and very strong, so we can’t physically move him. This is a problem, as his parents are often late, and we only have five minutes in between lessons. So, by the third lesson, I get a coworker to cover my next lesson so I can talk to his parents.)

Me: “He wouldn’t leave the kiddie pool again this time and threw a couple toys at other kids.”

Dad: “Oh, no, I’ll try to talk to him about that.” *starts to leave*

Me: “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. Since this session is almost over, if [Child] wants to pass to the next level, it’s going to be hard to do that. I want to talk to you about what you want for him. If you just want his time occupied, then I can absolutely do that with no problem, but we’ll most likely be spending it in the little pool.”

Dad: “Oh, no, we don’t want that. We absolutely want him to progress.”

Me: “Then I’m going to have to ask that one of you be present during the lesson or come before the lesson is over to help get him out of the water.”

Dad: “Hmm, I’ll have to talk to my wife about it. We do go to an exercise class during this time.”

Me: “Even if we could just find you in case he’s acting out. It really helps when you’re present.”

Dad: “That could work; I’ll talk to my wife and let you know.”

(I don’t see him for the rest of the summer. Fast forward two more months: they show up randomly, expecting the lessons to continue, when they haven’t confirmed anything or responded to any of the calls or emails. Since my schedule has changed, I am not present when they try to accommodate the child with a new instructor, but I hear about it. Unfortunately, the child punches his new instructor and breaks her glasses. He then refuses to leave, and neither of the parents can be located. A meeting is held to potentially work out a compromise, and what really irks me is what the father says:)

Dad: “We just want him to be occupied while we work out. From 9 to 9:45am, he is your problem, not ours.”

(A word from the minimum-wage lifeguards you’re abusing, buddy: 1) the program was completely free for you to use, and we went above and beyond trying to accommodate you, 2) I offered you that EXACT option earlier, but it wasn’t good enough for you, and 3) try to open your eyes once in a while!)