(I work in a store where we’re encouraged to dress fashionably while wearing as many items from the store as possible. I’m coming out of the back room with one of my male coworkers. We’ve just clocked in.)

Coworker: “You have such a cute style!”

Me: “Thanks! I love your shirt!”

(A customer seemingly comes out of nowhere. He looks high.)

Customer: “You shouldn’t say that.”

Us: “…”

Customer: “You should never call a woman cute. She’s beautiful.”

Coworker: “I wasn’t calling her cute.”

Customer: “Good. Because she’s beautiful.”

Us: “…”

Customer: “Beautiful.”

(He continues to smile at me as I put away clothes on their proper racks. With a last, “Beautiful…” he floats over to another part of the store.)

Coworker: “What the h*** was that? I’m gay and you have a girlfriend.”

Me: *jokingly looking into one of our wall mirrors* “Beautiful…”

(It’s 2001. I’m a Hispanic woman in her twenties. Because I have naturally blond hair, people often mistake me for a tanned white lady. I get a phone call from a customer wanting to know if we have a certain item in stock. I put her on hold and call my coworker, Nina, since she knows more about the inventory than I do. She’s a bit hard of hearing, so I have to raise the volume of my voice a little.)

Me: “Hey, Nina!”

Nina: *meekly* “Yeah?”

Me: “Do we have any [popular item] left?”

Nina: “Let me check.”

(She checks the back. While I’m waiting, two African American twin ladies who appear to be in their late teens approach.)

Me: “How can I help you, ladies?”

Teen #1: “Cut the BS, you b****! How dare you say that word?!”

Me: *confused but keeping it together* “What word? If I accidentally said something that offended you, I apologize.”

Teen #2: “Cut the s***, already! You can’t say that thing accidentally!”

Me: “I have to warn you that your continued use of profanity will force security to escort you out.”

Teen #1: “You can’t force us to do anything, you d*** racist!”

Teen #2: “We demand a discount and your a** fired!”

(One of my managers overhears and intervenes.)

Manager: “I’m sure we can solve this in a civilized manner.”

(The two customers keep saying that I used racial slurs and raised my voice. I try telling my side of the story but they keep interrupting me and calling me a white b****.)

Manager: “I really doubt [My Name] would do such a thing, and she’s actually—“

Teen #1: “An entitled, white b****!”

(I’m surprised I haven’t lunged at them by now, since I’m known to have a temper. While they are still shouting, I see an elderly African American man walking toward us with a nice suit. He doesn’t seem very happy.)

Man: “What in the name of the merciful Lord is going on here?!”

Teen #2: “This gold-digging tramp used the N-word out loud!”

Man: *to me* “Is that so, young lady?”

Me: “No! I was just calling for my coworker who is hard of hearing and is named Nina!”

(At this point Nina exits the back room. She is clearly Korean.)

Manager: “That’s her.”

Man: “I see.” *to the teens* “I didn’t spend my youth during the Civil Rights movement so you could act like a pair of entitled brats! Now, apologize to this nice lady and kiss your birthday money goodbye. You clearly don’t deserve it. If it were up to me I would send you job options. Good Heavens, your parents spoiled you rotten!”

Me: “By the way girls, I’m Hispanic. My advice to you is to stay in school and clean your ears.”

(The girls apologized. The grandfather laughed and dragged the girls out by their ears, after he bought a nice suit for church. After Nina told me we had the item, I resumed the call from earlier.)

(I work in a UK clothing store that sells fairly expensive but good-quality clothing, and I recently encountered one of the weirdest days. A shopper, in her thirties I’d say, with a walking stick, comes up to me at the service desk.)

Shopper: “I’m really sorry to bother you but I need some help. There’s a lady in the store who has been following me around and telling me to leave now. I’ve not done anything wrong, I hope.”

Me: “Is she a member of staff?”

Shopper: “No, she’s not wearing your uniforms or name tags, and she’s got a coat on and seems to be shopping. She just keeps following me, and it’s kind of scaring me now.”

(I see a lady coming straight for the desk, pointing at the woman I’m talking to.)

Rude Lady: “You! You! I told you to leave!”

Shopper: “That’s her. I don’t know what I’ve done wrong.”

Rude Lady: “You!” *pointing at me now* “Get this out of the store!”

Me: “Okay, what is the problem? Has something happened?”

Rude Lady: “Are you blind?! Have you seen her? It’s revolting!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I don’t see the problem. She looks perfectly fine to me.”

Rude Lady: “You are stupid. This is an expensive shop, yes? For beautiful people. Fat cripples don’t belong in here.”

(The first shopper looks like she’s going to cry. I honestly think she looks better than this rude woman. She does weigh more than this rude woman, but that’s no indicator of beauty or lack of.)

Me: “We welcome all shoppers, providing they have good manners and behave well in the store. I’m not throwing people out just because you don’t like the look of them.”

Rude Lady: “Right, well, your manager will be hearing of this. I’m sure once I say you’ve let disgusting, fat tramps in the store and lost all my business in the process, you’ll be looking for another job.” *turns to the original shopper* “And you! I’d better never see you again in any of my stores. You chose to be fat, so you chose to look revolting.”

(The rude lady stormed out, and I spent the next ten minutes reassuring the poor shopper that not only would she not be thrown out of the store, but that the rude lady was now banned from here and we’d have the video footage to back up why.)

(I’m in a shoe shop, when I see a girl dressed entirely in black with a rainbow bag, clutching some holographic black shoes.)

Girl: *tearing up* “These shoes are black and gay! That’s me! That’s my aesthetic! I NEED them!”

(I work in a clothing store that has one wool sweater for sale. As we’re a tourist stop, we tell people how to wash the sweater when they purchase it. Normally people just nod, thank me, or ask a question like if they should have it dry cleaned. I recognize a girl from earlier in the day when she bought a sweater, but she is back with a friend who is buying one so they can use her discount card.)

Me: “This is 100% wool, so you’re going to want to hand wash it and lay it flat to dry. If you put it in the dryer it’ll become a sweater for a cat.”

Girl: “What’s wool made of?”

Me: *thinking I misheard her* “I’m sorry?”

Girl: “Do you know what wool is made of?”

Me: “It’s sheep’s hair.”

Girl: *looks confused*

Me: “You shear a sheep — basically giving it a haircut — and then that’s spun into yarn and tada! A sweater.”

(The girl looked at me like she was horrified that she’d asked such a stupid question. It was obvious she knew the answer but had just forgotten at the moment when she asked. The rest of the transaction was done in silence.)