(I work at a school and am bringing a kid out to be picked up, followed by a bunch of other kids who are also waiting for their parents. My school has an office and waiting area right in front, where parents can park to pick up their kids, and in the middle there is a ramp where kids come out from. It’s raining heavily and the pickup area, despite having a roof, is very wet.)

Me: *opening the door to the outside* Oh, [Student]! They are here to pick you up, I think. Who is that lady in the car?”

Student: “My mom.”

(The mom makes a horrible face at me.)

Me: “Great!”

(I open the back door and help [Student] in.)

Mom: *turns around from the front seat and screams* “I almost slipped on your s***ty floor.”

(I’m shocked by her language and turn to look at her eight-year-old. He looks down, obviously scared.)

Mom: “There.” *points to the offices* “I came in and almost slipped. I told the b**** inside that if my kid slips here, I will sue each one of you. I will sue the s*** out of this f****** school and you all will be out of a f****** job. And she ignored me, that b****. And you better hear me. Can you hear me, b***? If my son slips, I will leave you on the street.”

(She keeps screaming. I don’t even know what to answer as I look at [Student] and try, miserably, to buckle him up.)

Me: *interrupting her* “Excuse me, the seat belt seems to be stuck behind the seat. [Student], could you please move to the other side so I can buckle you up? I wouldn’t want you to leave without the seat belt on.”

Mom: *now furious at being interrupted* “Who cares about a d*** seat belt?! Get a life, you b****. I have things to do! Leave him like that and go get a mop to clean! This s***ty school charges too much and only hires b****es. Go work!”

(I hardly have time to close the door before the car speeds away, with [Student] unbuckled. So much for her child’s safety. I have never seen this mom before, but I do know that this is the second time in two years that she has picked up her son. Usually, he stays up to four hours after exit time waiting for her, and she always sends random people to pick him up: boyfriends, aunts, friends, etc. We have to call every time to ask if they are allowed. I tell my boss about this incident. The floor was dry. Apparently, the lady came in with her wet high heels and slipped on the smooth floor.)

Boss: “Don’t worry; she threatens to sue us all the time.”

(And before you ask, the father tried to get custody of the boy. He got it for a while and it was great. But she got it back. Poor [Student].)

(My mom has a tendency to not believe things I tell her in general. But this one takes the cake. In the car, on the way home from the gynecologist:)

Me: “I hate going to the gyno so much. Men are so lucky they don’t have to suffer through this.”

Mom: “Oh! But men have it worse. They need to get their prostates checked.”

Me: “Yeah, but that’s just one finger. And when they are like 40.”

Mom: “But a finger in their… ‘peepee hole!'”

Me: “WHAT?! MOM, NO!” *I explain the process*

Mom: “No, no… you are just making that up. How are they going to reach the prostate from there?”

(Six years later, she still believes this.)

Me: “So, your total is going to be of 30 thousand colones (60 USD). Here you go, and have a nice day.”

Customer: “Oh, you’re so nice. Thank you, too. I was wondering if you could do something else for me?”

Me: “Sure, what is it?”

Customer: “I was told at my church that they needed more members, and I was asked to bring a few. Would you mind to come?”

Me: “Well, I apologize, but I wouldn’t like to.”

Customer: *gets defensive* “Why? Don’t tell me you think we’re all cultists that don’t care about God!”

Me: “I’m sure you’re not, but I don’t want to go.”

Customer: “Why the h*** not, then? I already told you we’re nice people, so why don’t you go?!”

Me: “Ma’am, if I offended you I apologize, however I don’t want to go. It’s not because you’re nice people or not; it’s because I’m an atheist.”

Customer: “So, you don’t believe in God, is that it? Well, f*** you! You’re going to Hell! What are you going to tell me next, that you’re a f***ing queer?”

Me: “In fact, I am a homosexual, but—”

Customer: “That’s all I needed to know! Being gay is a sin!”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Customer: “F*** no! You’re kicking me out because I’m a Christian! That’s illegal, and it’s bulls***!”

(At this point, a man behind her speaks up. Note that he is a police officer in full uniform.)

Officer: “No, he’s kicking you because you already paid and you’re disturbing the peace. So, I’m going to give you my recommendation: Leave now, or I’ll arrest you.”

Customer: *suddenly pales and leaves without saying a word*

Me: “Thank you very much, Officer. Now, how may I help you?”

Officer: “Actually I didn’t need anything. I was just patrolling when I heard the conflict. However, now that you mention it…” *he blushes a little* “…I need to ask, would you go out in a date with me?”

Me: “…Of course!”

(The officer and I have now dating for nearly half a year.)