I sell carnivorous plants at local shows and events, including science fiction and comic conventions. It’s not a real convention unless I’ve had this conversation at comic and anime conventions, which is why I’ve mostly stopped doing either:

Rando: “Hey, I came by earlier, and the other guy here at this booth told me that I could [get a discount on this incredibly rare and expensive plant] or [take it for free] or [I could pick it up and take it now since I’ve already paid].”

Me: “The Other Guy?”

Rando: “Yeah, the other guy at your booth. I talked to him about a half-hour ago.”

Me: “I’m the only guy here, and I’ve been here all weekend.”

Rando: “Oh. So, can I still have it?”

The terrifying part? It’s watching the same man going from booth to booth, trying the same routine at each booth in the hope that it eventually works.

My son and I were on the last row of an airline flight. Three teens were in the seats across the aisle. They seemed quiet during the flight and I really didn’t pay attention to them. Then, it happened. They jumped up from their seats before the plane came to a stop at the gate.

Teen #1: “Let’s get out of here!”

There was no way in h*** I was going to let them rush to the front of the plane, so I stepped out into the aisle to block them.

Teen #2: “We’re late for our connecting flight!”

Me: “No, you’re not. The plane landed fifteen minutes early.”

Teen #3: *Shouting* “We’re diplomats!”

Me: “All three of you?”

Teens: “Yes, we’re diplomats!”

Me: “You mean you have a parent who is a diplomat?”

Teens: “No, we’re diplomats! We need to get to our connecting flight!”

Me: “You need to wait your turn like everyone else.”

Teen #3: *Shouting* “You’re being racist because we have brown skin!”

Me: “No, you’re in the back of the plane and need to wait like the rest of us.”

Teens: “BUT WE’RE DIPLOMATS! YOU’RE BEING RACIST!”

The teens then started crawling over the tops of all the seats, over people’s heads, toward the front of the plane. At some point, I lost track of them because my son and I had to gather our belongings. When we finally made it into the terminal, several airport staff, including security, had detained the teens and were explaining to them that they could not possibly be late for their connecting flight because we arrived early. One of the teens spotted me and started pointing vigorously at me.

Teen #3: “There she is! She wouldn’t let us pass! She’s being racist because we have brown skin! WE’RE DIPLOMATS!”

I explained the whole situation to security. They asked me if I wanted to press charges. Since none of the teens had actually touched me, I declined and went on my way.

A few minutes later, my son and I were sitting near our connecting gate, and guess who came laughing, scampering, and skipping through the terminal without a care in the world? The teens saw me and one took out a camera phone and started filming me. I just sat there, bemused. 

Teen #3: “Ooo, you’re in trouble now!”

I checked social media for a few days after that and never saw a viral story about some old white lady being racist. Go figure.

I work at a candle store and we have a lot of great scents. I love telling customers about them, based on their interests.

Me: “Hi, ma’am, can I help you find anything today?”

Customer: “Yes, I’m looking for the strongest scent you have because I have a big room to fill.”

I show her the strongest candle.

Customer: “I just can’t smell it.”

I show her another.

Customer: “You must not put very much scent in these because I can’t smell this, either.”

I remember one of the main symptoms of the health crisis currently doing the rounds.

Me: “Well, ma’am, I’m sorry, but those are the strongest we have. Is there anything else I can help you find?”

Customer: “Ugh. Fine. I guess I’ll just go with the first one. Whatever.”

Me: “Perfect! May I also show you the hand sanitizer?”

I’m in line at the airport with my family. There’s a fairly long line to get through security but it’s moving so I’m not complaining. I overhear this woman talking to an employee.

Woman: “Where’s the line for first class?”

Employee: “Ma’am, this is the line for security. There is no line for first class.”

Woman: “No, there is!”

Random Lady In Line: “Get in the f****** line. Just because you’re first class doesn’t mean you’re better than the rest of us.”

I am working at a cookie store in a mall when we are accepting donations for a local charity and giving customers the option to donate $1.00 at checkout. Many people say no, which is fine; it’s none of my business. But it is the people that are exceptionally rude about it that bother me. This is my favorite instance.

Me: “Would you like to donate $1.00 to help children in need?”

Customer: *Visibly annoyed* “No. I wish people would give me a dollar every time my children needed something.”

Me: *Pause* “All right, well, your total comes to $6.66.”

Customer: “You can’t be serious.”

She donated $1.00 after that.