(I audition for the school musical and get a lead part. During rehearsals, it becomes apparent that the director does not know my name, despite her personally being present for my initial audition.)

Director: “All right, let’s go over this part again. Let’s start with… um…”

Me: “[My Name].”

Director: “[My Name]! Sorry!”

(This goes on for MONTHS, with her never making a real effort to learn to my name. One day, after a particularly bad day at school.)

Director: “Okay, let’s do this again. You, you there, um…”

Me: “GOD D*** IT!” *slams down music* “I am sick of this! I am your lead part! I have dealt with this nearly every day for three months! Please, just try to learn my name! It’s [My Name]! [My Name]! [My Name]!”

(The director’s jaw dropped. I later apologized, but she insisted that I was correct in my anger. She never forgot my name after that.)

(I’m working the drive-thru on a slow night at a popular chicken restaurant. My coworkers and I are slacking off as everything is done and the manager has gone home for the night, leaving me in charge. A car pulls into the drive-thru when this happens:)

Me: “Thank you for choosing [Fast Food Place]; what can I get for you?”

Customer: “Yeah, let me get a [one-person-sized meal only totaling to $5].”

Me: “And your drink?”

Customer: “Actually, scratch that. Let me get a [meal totaling to about $15].”

Me: “Okay… No problem. What else for you?”

Customer: “Actually, scratch that. Let me get a [big meal ranging to about $20].”

Me: *literally banging my head against the wall as my coworker unpacks the previous meal choice and starts the new one* “No problem. Will that be all for today?”

Customer: “Scratch that. Let me get a large water. That’ll be it.”

Me: *pause* “Just pull up to the window.”

Coworker: “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!”

(A bunch of teenagers pulled up to the window and I handed them their water as they laughed, driving off. While we were shocked, it at least relieved the boredom.)

(I’ve just finished with my shopping, and I come out to my van to find a lady standing next to the car in front of mine, looking at the bumpers. The other car was there before I got there, and I left around a foot of space between that car and mine when I parked. When I start loading my groceries into my car, the woman comes stomping between our cars.)

Woman: “You parked too close!”

Me: *thinking that a foot of distance really isn’t “too close”* “I’m sorry?”

Woman: “You could have scratched my car!”

Me: “Glad that I didn’t, then.”

(I’ve finished putting the last of my bags in the car, so I shut it, and I turn and start pushing my cart towards the cart return area. The woman follows.)

Woman: “You need to leave more space! You could have hit my car!”

(I was not even bothering to respond at this point. I put the cart away, walked around her to get back to my car, and got in, while she kept complaining about me being “too close.” She actually rapped on the glass of my car after I got in, but I just started my car and pulled out, taking some care to avoid running over her toes, before driving off. Looking in the mirror, I saw her pouting with her arms folded in front of my now-empty space. Sorry that I’m not willing to play along with your delusions, miss.)

(I have a history of coughing up blood for no particular reason. Despite a lack of a diagnosis explaining why it happens, it has happened three times. Two out of the three times, it was copious amounts. The first time, it happened when I was 16 and within a few hours, I had coughed up several cups before I was able to get to a hospital. A vein in my right lung had burst! The docs never figured out why it happened, but it happened again when I was 18. Fortunately, it was only a few mouthfuls – it ended up just being a busted capillary. Then, it happens again when I am 22. I have dealt with multiple nurses and doctors in the ER down the street telling me I am probably just exaggerating, which is incredibly infuriating. To prove that I am telling the truth, I begin to collect the blood by spitting it into a container and keeping the container in the fridge. It’s disgusting. Between Wednesday afternoon and Friday morning, I have coughed up and collected almost two cups of blood. I have a bronchoscopy at a different hospital go bad – a negative reaction to the light anesthesia they give me – so they send me back to the ER to be admitted. It is then that I deal with the most stuck up doctor in my life. I have no makeup on — obviously, who has time to worry about that when one’s life is possibly on the line? — and in the past that’s led people to mistake me for a high schooler more than once. It seems to fool this doctor, too, unfortunately. He approaches me with a haughty, unbelieving demeanor, and treats me like some sort of hysterical, loony teen. I start arguing with him about my honesty in the situation, and it begins to escalate to a frustrated yelling match. While I regret resorting to yelling at a doctor, I don’t regret how this ends. Not one bit. I finally reach a breaking point, yank my purse from my mother’s arms, shove the container of blood at the doctor, and scream.)

Me: “THIS IS WHAT I’VE BEEN COUGHING UP!”

(The doctor’s face goes completely white as he gapes at me, stares at the container, looks back at me, and takes it to run out of the room. Another doctor comes in right then, and the first doc grabs his arm to drag him out with him. They close the door behind them, but there is a huge window in the door, so I can see both of them holding up the container, arguing, and acting generally panicked. Join the club, dudes. When Doctor Jerkface comes back in, he has a huge change in attitude; he’s now sweet, attentive, and eager to help.)

Doctor: “All right, honey, don’t you worry. We’re going to admit you to the ICU right away. We’re going to take care of you and figure out why this is happening.”

(I let myself become the smug jerk in the room and give him a victorious smirk.)

Me: “You’re d*** right, you’re going to.”

(I have stopped at a department store to buy just a couple of small items, so I don’t grab a basket or cart, but then I also pick up a couple of more things I see that I can use, so my hands are full. I am walking to the register holding my items. I am about to pass a woman pushing a fully-loaded shopping cart in the opposite direction while she is talking with another woman, when she suddenly swerves and turns the cart sideways in the aisle directly in front of me, so close that I have to step back to keep from getting run into. She is directly between two large displays.)

Me: “Excuse me?”

Woman: “Oh, sorry. Excuse me!”

(She then walks away with her friend to look at a display that they have already passed, leaving the cart sideways in front of me blocking the aisle! As my hands are full, I can’t easily move the cart out of the way.)

Me: “Excuse me. Could you please move the cart?”

(The woman glances my way but continues talking with her friend, ignoring me. Using my foot and body to move the heavy cart a bit, I manage to squeeze by to continue to the front of the store. I’ve just taken a few steps.)

Woman: *yelling* “Hey! Why did you move my cart? You didn’t take anything, did you? Hey, I’m talking to you!”

(I glanced at her but kept walking, half expecting her to come after me, but she just stood there, cart still blocking the aisle, and resumed her conversation with her companion, now loudly complaining about rude people.)