I work for the town government. The building I work in is closed to the public, but we have temporary workspaces in the building next door to allow for customers to come in. There are only two departments with designated workspaces — I represent one of them — and all other departments in the building are closed or by appointment only.

This is explained on the website, on social media, on the phone when you call in, and on the doors of the building. Roped stanchions are placed across the staircases with “DO NOT ENTER — EMPLOYEES ONLY” signs on them.

The other departments have also locked their doors to prevent wanderers from walking in. Benches are placed across the doors of the large event room to prevent people from going in. The only places customers can go freely are down the hall from one outside door to the other as well as in the bathroom.

We also have to use a visitor log for contact tracing in case one of us is sick with [contagious illness] with the date, time of visit, name, and phone number of the visitor. Below are a few customer interactions I’ve had within the first two weeks of opening. Also of note, we aren’t supposed to call to make appointments for other people. They are supposed to call themselves. Every department is extremely short-staffed, so if we use our time being the liaison calling other departments to make appointments for people, we will be missing our own phone calls, which we are already missing due to not having enough staff.

Me: “Hi, can I help you?”

Customer #1: “I need a permit for [item].”

Me: “Oh, okay. [Department #1] isn’t here, but you can either mail the application and payment in, put it in the dropbox, hand it to me so I can give it to them, or call them and make an appointment to meet with them.”

Customer #1: “No, that won’t do. I need a permit now.”

Me: “Right, well, they aren’t here, so those are your options. I can write down the phone number and mailing address for you if you’d like?”

Customer #1: “NO! I NEED A PERMIT NOW!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t issue permits. The only departments here today are [My Department] and [Department #2]. [Department #1] doesn’t have hours here, but if you need to meet with them, you can call them and make an appointment. Or I could hand your application and payment to them when I go back over. Or you could mail it or put it in the dropbox.”

Customer #1: “NO! GOD, YOU’RE USELESS!” *Storms out*

Next customer:

Me: “Hi, can I help you?”

Customer #2: “I just tried the doors for [Department #3], but they’re locked! Can you call them and tell them to open their doors?”

Me: “Unfortunately, I can’t. I can give you their phone number, though, and you can make an appointment if you need to meet in person.”

Customer #2: “No, I’m not going to make an appointment. I just want to go in. I need an [activity pass].”

Me: “Oh, well, they aren’t selling [activity passes] right now for health reasons, but again, I can give you their phone number if you want to talk to them.”

Customer #2: “No! I’m not calling them! I’m going to stand right here until you let me see them!”

Me: “Okay, but they aren’t coming out right now. The only way to see them is to call them.”

Customer #2: *Stomps foot* “NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!”

She leaves two minutes later after realizing her temper tantrum won’t solve anything.

Next customer:

The door to the event room is slowly but forcefully pushed open, knocking over one of the benches.

Me: “Uh, sir? Can I help you?”

Customer #3: “Yeah, I was just looking for [Department #4]. There was a bench in the way, so I moved it to get in here, but it looks like you put another bench in the way. Why would you do that?”

Me: “Well, sir, no department has ever been located in the event room, and we don’t want people going in there unsupervised, so we put the benches up to block the entrances.”

Customer #3: “They used to be in that room. Did they move?”

Me: “I don’t know if they were ever in that room, but not in the seven years I’ve worked here, and not for at least thirty years to my knowledge. In any event, you can meet with [Department #4] by calling them to make an appointment. Do you want their phone number?”

Customer #3: “No, that’s okay. Thanks, sweetie. I’ll talk to them some other time.”

Customers #4-#50:

Customers #4-#50: “Do you have [very specific item/book/information that requires research]?”

Me: “We do back at the main office, but not here. I can call you later with that information, you can pick it up on [list days and times], or you can make an appointment to view it later.”

Customers #4-#50: “I don’t understand why you don’t have it here. It’s public record. I should be able to get [very specific item/book/information].”

Me: “As you can see, I have nowhere to keep it here.”

I gesture to the twenty-five-square-foot room/closet acting as my “office”.

Customers #51-#100:

Me: *On the phone* “[My Department], can I help you?”

Customers #51-#100: “Yes, are you open yet for us to come in?”

Me: Yes, we are open, but not at [main building]. [Main building] is closed. We are in [building next door] at [address].”

Customers #51-#100: “Oh, like where we vote?”

Me: “Yes, exactly — [building next door] where the voting takes place.”

Customers #51-#100: “Okay, see you soon!”

A few minutes later on the phone:

Me: “[Department], can I help you?”

Customers #51-#100: “Yes, I just went to [main building] like you said, but the doors are locked! And there is a sign saying to go to [building next door]? Is that right?”

Me: “Yes, that is correct. Come over to [building next door]. Remember where you vote? It’s that building.”

Customers #51-#100: “Oh, it’s where we vote? Well, why didn’t you say so in the first place instead of sending me over to [main building]?”

Customers #101-Infinity:

Exit doors, which are locked from the outside and clearly marked as Exit Only, are being tugged at.

Customers #101-Infinity: “Did you know your doors are locked?”

How did you get in, then?

Me: “Only the exit doors are locked. There are big signs on them saying ‘EXIT ONLY.’ There are also large signs next to two other doors, such as the one you came in, that say, ‘ENTER HERE.’ Those doors are unlocked.”

Customers #101-Infinity: “Yeah, well, I just wanted you to know that the door was locked. You should probably fix that.”

And I bang my head on my desk.

I work in a small independent bookshop. Due to the current health crisis, it is recommended that any merchandise touched by customers should be quarantined for seventy-two hours before being offered back for sale. We have set a couple of large baskets in the middle of the shop, and there are hand sanitisers in several places along with large signs asking people to sanitise their hands and to only touch books they want to buy, and if they decide not to buy a book they have touched, to place it in the basket so we can quarantine it.

A customer comes in and browses for a minute or two, then pulls a book, looks at it, and puts it back on the shelf. I go over and take the book and drop it in the basket.

Me: “Hi, sir, if you touch a book can you please put it in the basket?”

Customer: “What? Why?”

Me: “If any books are touched, we need to quarantine them for three days. It’s fine if you want to look at books; just please put them in the basket when you’re done instead of back on the shelf.”

Customer: “I used sanitiser.”

Me: “I’m sure you did, but I’m afraid we still need to quarantine anything that’s been touched.”

He looks into the basket, which has about a dozen books in it.

Customer: “So what if I want one of those books?”

Me: “Well, if there’s one on the shelf, you’re welcome to buy it.”

Customer: “What if it’s the only one?”

Me: “It will need to be quarantined.”

Customer: “So I can’t buy it?”

Me: “No, I’m sorry, but any books in the basket are not for sale.”

Customer: “Well, that’s just stupid.”

Me: “Sorry, sir, it’s the rules.”

Customer: “What about this, then?”

He walks up to a shelf, rubs his hands over his face, and then rubs his hands all over all the books.

Customer: “Are you gonna quarantine all these, then?”

Me: “Yes. Yes, I am. Thanks for that.”

I started piling the books in the basket. He just stared at me and then left quietly.

I’m currently in a weekly planning session with my coworkers. Due to the recent health crisis, we’ve been primarily working from home, and today, some of our team are back in the [City] office to socialise for the first time in months. They’re discussing their plans for lunch and where they’ll be going.

Colleague: “Well, it was a fifty-fifty between Greek and Thai, but we decided to go with Greek.”

Me: “So, what you’re telling us is that you had a Thai-breaker?”

The entire team groans.

Team Leader: “How can you have such bad dad jokes without having any kids?”

I’m clothes shopping in the time of the health crisis, so no changing rooms are open. I pick up a jumpsuit I think is cute and buy it, making sure to keep the receipt in case I need to return it. I get home and try it on but it’s too long in the leg so I put it back in the bag. It’s out of the bag for a total of maybe five minutes.

The next day, I go back to the store to return it.

Me: “Hi, I’d like to return this.”

I place the jumpsuit and receipt on the counter.

Assistant: “Okay, I just need to get a supervisor to do that.”

She pages a supervisor, who comes up in a couple of minutes. The supervisor picks at the jumpsuit with the end of her fingers like it’s disgusting.

Supervisor: “Sorry, you can’t return this.”

Me: *Confused* “I only bought it yesterday.”

Supervisor: “It’s not in a resalable condition.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Supervisor: “Look here; it’s all dirty.”

She then points at one hair that has stuck to the fabric of the jumpsuit.

Me: “Ummm, okay.”

I was about to protest further when the supervisor walked away. I was furious but I just picked up my stuff and left. When I got home, I picked off the hair and asked my friend who was going into town the next day to see if she could return it. She got the same rude woman who, once again, picked over the item looking for some excuse to refuse the return, but she eventually gave in and did it.

It’s the beginning of summer during the health crisis and things are sort of getting back to normal with stores. I have been out mountain biking with some friends, and I stop by a big store to pick up a few things to make dinner for my daughter and me. Then, I happen to see my best friend with her child. He is turning four years old, and she is buying him a bicycle for his birthday. This is right up my alley!

Me: “Great! Let Auntie [My Name] help you out with it.”

We find a good sixteen-inch-wheel starter bike and look at helmets, and I even fit the helmet to him. [Best Friend] and I chat a bit while her child looks at other toys.

Then, I hear an “ahem” and I turn to see a woman standing there.

Me: “I’m sorry if I’m in your way of the shelves.”

Customer: *Rudely* “Now that you are done with her, you can help me with my child and a bike for him.”

Me: “Sorry, ma’am, I don’t work here. I was just helping my friend with her son.”

Customer: “Yes, you do! You are wearing cycling clothes!”

Me: “I just got finished with a ride about an hour ago and came here to pick things up and saw my friend. I’m just helping her. I’m sure one of the employees would be glad to help you. I really don’t work here.”

Best Friend: “She doesn’t work here, lady.”

Customer: “You need to butt out and shut up. I wasn’t talking to you.”

Me: *To my friend* “Oh, my God! Let’s go and get away from this crazy lady.”

Customer: “What?! HOW DARE YOU CALL ME THAT?! I WILL HAVE YOU FIRED!”

Me: *Trying to stay calm* “I DON’T WORK HERE!”

My friends always say that I am really scary when I’m mad. I’m 5’10” and fit; I’m not a small woman. We try to walk away and the lady grabs my arm. I pull out of her grip.

Me: “If you touch me again, I will have you arrested!”

I try to walk away again and she grabs my cycling jersey.

Customer: “YOU ARE GOING TO HELP ME AND I’M GOING TO REPORT YOU TO YOU THE MANAGER, ALSO!”

Me: “Let go of my jersey, you f****** wingnut!”

Then, a manager comes around the corner and the lady screams at him.

Customer: “YOU NEED TO FIRE YOUR EMPLOYEE FOR NOT HELPING ME!”

Manager: “Ma’am, she doesn’t work here, and you need to let her go before I have you escorted out the door.”

Customer: “HOW DARE YOU TREAT PAYING CUSTOMERS THIS WAY?!”

I pull my jersey from her grip and she tries to slap me. I grab her wrist in mid-flight.

Me: “YOU HAVE NOW DONE IT, LADY!”

And I twist her arm behind her. The woman is now yelling about assault and screaming about how badly I am hurting her arm as I pull it up behind her back. I do have a lot of fighting training. [Best Friend] is recording it all on her phone and trying to calm her kid at the same time.

Me: *To the manager* “Call the sheriff’s department right now. I’m having her arrested!”

Customer: “LET ME GO! I WILL SUE YOU ALL! YOU ARE ALL GOING TO JAIL!”

Me: “I don’t think so!”

I wrench her arm up harder, and escort her and her crying kid up to the front of the store as we wait for someone from the sheriff’s department. Two deputy sheriffs walk in; I know them both from having to use the sheriff’s department a lot in my line of work. I let go and the woman screams.

Customer: “ARREST HER NOW FOR ASSAULTING ME!”

Deputy #1: “Ma’am, you need to calm down right now!”

Customer: “NO! SHE ASSAULTED ME!”

[Best Friend], the manager, and I just stand there, wait for the deputies to handle everything, and answer anything that is asked of us.

Deputy #2: “[My Name]… what is going on here?”

Customer: “YOU KNOW THIS B****?! ARREST HER!”

Deputy #1: “You need to be quiet or I’m going to arrest you!”

I am feeling really bad for her child; he is crying as another employee tries to keep him calm. [Customer] keeps screaming. Then, they cuff her as the manager, [Best Friend], and I talk to [Deputy #2] about what happened.

I don’t want to press charges because I don’t want to spend time in court; I spend enough time in court with my line of work.

The woman is banned from that store. The manager apologizes for everything and gives my best friend and me $50 gift cards. I hand mine to [Best Friend], and it pays for the bike and helmet.

I think that will be the end of this and that I’ll never see that woman again. I am wrong.

Two weeks go by. I’m in my office at work; I own a home rental business, family-owned. I spent my whole life in this business and took over when my parents retired. I’ve told everyone in the office about what happened at the store.

This one fine day, this couple comes in to file and sign final paperwork on a home rental. My office manager buzzes me and asks if I can come out to meet the new renters and introduce myself to them. As I walk up front, a look of shock hits my face. It’s the lady from the store!

Customer: “YOU! DON’T TELL ME YOU WORK HERE!”

Me: *Calmly* “Yes, I do work here.”

Customer: “WHO IS YOUR MANAGER?! I’M GOING TO HAVE YOU FIRED!”

Her husband turns red with embarrassment. I point to the office manager.

Me: “She is the manager; talk to her.”

Customer: *Yelling at my manager* “YOU SHOULD FIRE THIS WORTHLESS B****!”

Office Manager: “I can’t fire her; only the owner of the company can fire her.”

Customer: “I WANT TO SPEAK TO THE OWNER!”

Office Manager: *Pointing at me* “She is the owner.”

Me: “Yes, you are in my place of business. I’m not going to rent a house to you and I’m asking you to leave right now, never to come back, before I call the sheriff’s department.”

She left in a big hurry with her husband in tow.