I am training two new cashiers. An elderly customer decides to cash out at the register we are training on. We respect the rules of social distancing, but when we have three people on one register, the best we can do is to at least be a metre (about three feet) apart so we’re all watching and learning from each other. I’m in the middle, watching [Trainee #1] scan their items, and [Trainee #2], on my left, is watching from a decent distance.

While the customer’s items are being scanned and I’m watching, the customer is staring at [Trainee #2] and me.

Customer: “Neither of you is social distancing! [Trainee #2] needs to move back away from you!”

He has nowhere to go, so he just takes a step back and she shakes her head in disbelief.

Customer: “Oh, honey, that’s not far enough. Do I need to call the manager to teach you how to social distance?”

Trainee #2: “The manager has gone home for the night.”

Customer: “I don’t like your attitude.”

I step in and explain.

Me: “All three of us are training and he wasn’t giving any attitude; he just has nowhere else to step back toward.”

Customer: *Fake tone* “Oh, I’m not trying to argue with you, honey.”

She continues on spewing her nonsense about social distancing and getting management involved and then starts yelling at me loud enough for the whole store to hear.

Customer: “STEP BACK AWAY FROM HER!”

She gestures to [Trainee #1].

Customer: “MOVE BACK! MOVE BACK! MOVE BACK!”

Customers and coworkers are all staring in our direction. I’m shaking my head at her and she’s appalled that I’m taking her tantrum as a joke.

While this is going on, I notice that three of my other coworkers are gathered by the exit doors, talking to each other, definitely not two metres apart, and I bring it up to the customer.

Me: “So, if you’re going to tell us to social distance, then does that mean you’re going to tell them to do so, as well?”

Customer: “I’m only looking at you, honey.”

Me: “Well, you can’t be selective on who to tell to social distance.”

She had no reply. She paid for her groceries and left.

In the end, [Trainee #2] and I came to the conclusion that she was a passive racist because he and I were the only tanned ones there and we were the only ones she was giving trouble to.

During the 2020 health crisis, we order carryout from a local pizza chain. There is a queue to enter the restaurant in order to maintain social distancing. When I finally enter the store, I see that the only workers wearing masks are at the front desk. Only a few of the folks making pizza are wearing masks. The few that are wearing masks are wearing them around their necks and not covering their noses and mouths.

Me: “Uh, your workers don’t have to wear masks?”

Cashier: “They have respiratory issues so they don’t have to wear masks.”

Me: “So, of the twelve people working here, ten of them have respiratory issues?”

Cashier: “Well, we don’t ask for documentation of the illness.”

Me: “Cancel my order.”

I am a customer standing in line to pay for my groceries. The queue is quite long. When I finally approach the checkout, an elderly woman tries to sneak into the line ahead of me from the left. I casually block her off with my cart and address her.

Me: “Excuse me, but the line starts back there.”

Elderly Woman: *Huffily* “I didn’t realize that. I’ve been standing here for quite some time!”

I ignore her and start putting my groceries on the conveyor belt. Turning to my cart, I realize she managed to sneak into the line behind me and is now standing way too close for my comfort. I address her again.

Me: “Excuse me, but could you at least keep your distance? I’ll give you a hint: if I can touch you like this—”

I extend my left hand and lightly touch her with my index finger.

Me: “—you’re standing way too close.”

I turned back around and approached the cashier. When I looked back, I saw that she had taken the hint and was finally keeping the required distance.

CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

My mum and I live together. There’s a global health crisis, and we’ve been potentially in contact with someone who tested positive, so we have to self-isolate for ten days. I’ve checked all the stuff, and apparently, we’re not able to get tests because we’ve got no symptoms; it’s a stupid rule, considering you can be asymptomatic with it, but what do I know? One symptom is losing your sense of taste and smell.

We are day four into isolation, and Mum has to open the giant jar of garlic puree she panic-bought but can’t, so she enlists me to open it. After lots of grunting, copious swearing, hitting the lid, and attempting the tea-towel technique, we finally get the jar open by her holding the body of it and me using both hands to unscrew the top. We cheer! But then we fall into a coughing fit, eyes streaming, as we’re both smacked in the face with the very pungent smell of garlic.

Me: “I’m gonna smell garlic forever! Oh, God!”

Mum: “At least we know we’ve not got symptoms!”

Disclaimer: I do not condone panic-buying; please do not panic-buy. I’m just saying my mum’s panic-buying of a single giant jar of garlic actually… paid off. A little. That was a SINGLE jar, though, not fifty rolls of toilet paper.

I am at the final window of a popular fast food drive-thru in the UK, at the height of the health crisis. I am patiently waiting in my car, and the server has handed my first bag through the window, when I witness one of the most entitled people I have ever seen.

A woman marches through the exit of the drive-thru, in the middle of the road, instead of using the pavement. Around a blind corner. You know the type. No mask, THAT haircut.

Immediately, she ignores that I am at the drive-thru window. She squeezes into the small space between the window and my car. Her a** is literally pressed against the glass. She is brandishing one of the small books that come free with a kids’ meal.

The woman proceeds to knock on the window until she gets someone’s attention.

Customer: “I specifically asked for a toy. This is a book. Not a toy.”

Server: “The kids’ meal promotion at the moment is a small book, not a toy.”

Customer: “I told my son that he was getting a toy.”

Server: “Give me a moment. I can check if we have any left over from last week. Just a moment.”

Customer: “Un-f******-believable.”

The server returns.

Server: “Hello, apologies, but we do not have any toys from the previous promotion and we haven’t received next week’s kids’ meal treat yet. Unfortunately, we only have the books.”

Customer: *Tapping the book against the glass* “It’s your fault that my child is crying! Do something!”

Server: “I’m sorry, but there is nothing I can do.”

The woman slammed both open palms against the window and screamed before marching out of the drive-thru, in the middle of the road again.

I waited a few moments, and the drive-thru gave me my food which had gotten cold at that point. The drive-thru was packed. It was the lunch rush, and I felt bad for the staff who had to take time to deal with the woman, so I just sped away.

As I rounded the corner, I saw the woman in one of the waiting spaces, parked terribly, in a brand new Mercedes. The back door was open and she was consoling her ten-year-old son who was screaming at her.

I didn’t know if he had a learning disability, though I suspect she would have led with that when she spoke to the staff if he did, but I couldn’t believe that someone was so upset about being given a BOOK.

There were plenty of ways to deal with that situation — namely, calling the store from the car park to maintain social distancing — but that was how she chose to deal with it?