(I’m working at a popular clothing store in the fitting room, helping customers and running clothes back to the store front. The fitting room also leads right to the restrooms. After a trip to the front, I come back and hear a customer coughing from one of the two restrooms. I hear the toilet flush and think its the end of it. Nope, I hear more coughing and another flush and the customer finally leaves the restroom; it’s an old woman.)

Me: “Ma’am, is everything all right?”

Customer: “Oh, I’m all right. It’s not contagious. I just got a little ill, a stomach ulcer. You take care, dear!”

(Fearing the worst, I take a quick look into the bathroom. Thankfully I don’t see or smell anything immediately, but I decide to put a wet floor sign in front of the bathroom to try and dissuade any other customers from using it while I get a manager to deal with it. I should mention that while I can clean spills at the store, only managers can deal with bodily fluids, which this definitely qualifies as.)

Me: “Hey, [Manager #1], a customer got ill in the bathroom. I blocked it off as best I could and it doesn’t look bad at all, but it still might need to be cleaned.”

Manager #1: “Oh, absolutely. I have some bleach I can use to clean it up later. Thanks for letting me know!”

(Thinking it is all taken care of, I head back to my post and hear a toilet flush. I look back and someone has moved the wet floor sign out of the way and used the bathroom. She doesn’t seem bothered by it, but I try leaning the sign against the door, to try a bit better to block it. It can’t be locked from the outside, at least not with a key I have. About an hour later, the manager I told about the mess leaves and, as far as I know, hasn’t cleaned the bathroom. I never see him come back, but he may have forgotten; it is a busy day. After another customer moves the sign to use the bathroom, so I decide to tell the next manager who comes in about it.)

Me: “Hey, [Manager #2], a customer got sick a while ago in the bathroom and I told [Manager #1] about it, but I don’t think he got around to it. Can you take care of it?”

Manager #2: “What kind of sick?”

Me: “Um… stomach sick?”

Manager #2: “Oh, no. Nope. Not going to do it.”

Me: “Are you sure? It didn’t look bad at all; it just needs disinfecting.”

Manager #2: “Nope, I don’t deal with that stuff. Make an ‘out of order’ sign and stick it on there.”

(My manager ended up making the sign and had me post it on the door. And that’s the story on how one of our two bathrooms went out of order because a manager didn’t want to clean it as she was specifically trained to do.)

(I work in a quite expensive clothing store. Today an American couple comes in. The lady chooses a bunch of expensive dresses she would like to try on. Most of them are not the best choice for her figure. She chooses dresses that look good only on someone who is model-like flat. The lady is very unhappy about how the dresses look on her, but refuses any options we present to her, which would look really gorgeous on her. Because the dresses she tries on and refuses are starting to pile up, I ask my coworker to take them away and put them on the racks again. The whole time, she is really rude, calling us names and accusing us of giving her wrong sizes. The man with her calls us nothing but “third worlders.”)

Woman: “Where are you taking them?”

Me: “Just back to the boutique. I thought you didn’t like any of them. I am sorry if I was mistaken. Do you want to keep any of them?”

Woman: “No, I don’t like any of those skinny-a** b****y-as-you dresses!”

Me: “All right, is it then okay to take them back?”

Woman: “NO! I tried them on, you stupid b****; you cannot put them back!”

Me: “I am sorry?”

(I am taken aback, as I did not expect this and I am not used to people swearing on me.)

Woman: “Can’t you speak English? That’s the only good language! Don’t speak that bulls*** of yours!”

(We have not been speaking in Czech because customers are sometimes unhappy about us speaking anything they cannot understand.)

Me: “I apologise, madam, but since you do not plan on buying any of those, what would you like me to do with them? There might be some other customer that would like them and—”

Woman: *interrupts me* “C***, I tried them, b****. No one else can try them now, b****! They can’t wear them; I did!” *spews a bunch of vulgar words*

Me: “I am deeply sorry, madam, but if you are not going to buy them, anyone else can. We cannot just dispose of these dresses just because someone tried them on and did not like them.”

Woman: “I am not buying anything here! You are just a useless little c***!”

Man: “These f****** third-worlders are for nothing! We are leaving your s***-covered store!”

(They left. Up to this day, I have never had a customer like this. They can be snotty and think they are better than us. But no one has ever been so vulgar to me.)

(I’m recovering the back of our store. It’s the end of my shift and I’m a little done with people for the day. While cleaning up a table, I begin hearing a soft “clunk, clunk, clunk,” as if something is hitting the floor a few feet away, and I go to investigate. I find a woman shopping with her husband, nonchalantly talking to him as she drops pieces of jewelry on the floor she apparently doesn’t want anymore.)

Me: *in the sweetest tone* “Oh, would you like me to put those away for you?”

Customer: “Oh! I’m so sorry! No, I can put those away, I just—”

Me: *stooping down to pick up the jewelry* “Nope, it’s fine; I got it!”

Customer: “My hands were just so full and—”

Me: *still sweet* “No worries! Someone could just slip on these if they’re left on the floor, and we don’t want that, do we?”

Customer: “No, not at all, I—”

(I walked away before she could finish. I found one empty tag in the pile, which was probably nothing, but I reported her to my manager, anyway, so someone could keep a good eye on her after I left. I hope she felt extra embarrassed.)

(I am browsing a clothing store together with a friend. It is winter, and I am looking for a new coat. This store is known for not always having everything folded and arranged, and during the day it can get pretty messy. It is not unusual to see single items scattered across other items.)

Me: *picks up an especially ugly-looking coat and shows to friend* “Unbelievable that someone is paying money for something like this; what was the designer thinking?”

Other Shopper: *snatches coat from my hands* “That is my coat; thanks a lot.” *storms off*

(I went beet red, mumbled an apology, and left the store as quickly as possible while my friend cracked up.)

(I’m shopping with my older sister. I’m 16, going through a period of having body image issues, and I have trouble shopping alone. I have a rather skinny build, while my sister is plus-size and curvy. We’re looking at bras when two random women start making comments.)

Woman #1: “Check that out; the cow looks even larger with that pancake beside her.”

Woman #2: “Why are they shopping for bras, anyway? One has nothing and the other can’t possibly afford a custom that big.”

(Their comments make me sink deeper into my shell, while their obnoxious laughing irritates my sister.)

Sister: “Mind your own business, will you? You’re only making yourself look dumb.”

Woman #1: “Ever heard about freedom of speech, big girl?”

Sister: “Freedom of speech doesn’t mean you can go around insulting people without consequences.”

Woman #2: “What are you going to do? Sit on us until we say sorry?”

Sister: “I wasted enough precious air talking to you. I have better things to do than talking to two random b****es who need to insult people to feel better, and their cold hearts to keep their plastic bodies from melting.”

(My sister quickly pulled me out of that store and told me two things. One is that your body is a unique work of art; treat it with extreme care. The second is that people who insult you are so arrogant they’re miles away from reality, dumb, insecure, or simply rotten. People like that will fade away if you don’t give them the attention they crave.)