(I am looking for a new pair of wedge heels.)

Employee #1: “Can I help you?”

Me: “Yes, could I get these in a size eight?” *holds up pair of shoes*

Employee #1: “Sure.” *disappears into back of store*

(A minute or so later, I see another pair of shoes that I want to try on. Not thinking anything of it, I ask another employee for help.)

Me: *walks up to [Employee #2]* “Hi, could I please try these in a size eight?” *holds up shoes*

Employee #2: “Of course!” *starts to walk toward back of store*

(At this time, [Employee #1] returns. [Employee #2] is considerably younger than [Employee #1].)

Employee #1: *walks up to me* “NO! You only ask one person! One person!”

Me: “Uh…”

Employee #1: *suddenly all smiles* “Here’s your shoes!”

(She then walks behind the counter and speaks angrily to [Employee #2]. They are too far away for me to hear, but she is clearly extremely angry. Several minutes later, [Employee #1] walks over with my second pair of shoes.)

Employee #1: “Here’s your shoes!”

Me: “Thank you.”

Employee #1: “You’re so polite! Most people your age are so rude! Have a nice day!” *walks off*

Me: “…”

(I assume she got so upset, because they earn money on commission or something, but still! That was a little excessive, and there was no need to yell at the other employee! She was just doing her job.)

(When my parents split my dad got a job with a company based in the USA. Twice a year I’d go visit him. I don’t remember how these people started talking to me, but I was a very social child.)

Random Person: “You are such a sweet child. Where are you from?”

Me: “Costa Rica.”

Random Person: “Oh! Puerto Rico is such a beautiful place.”

Me: “Costa Rica.”

Random Person: “Yes! It’s pronounced Puerto Rico.”

(Another random person, after telling him where I am from:)

Another Random Person: “Oh, that’s nice! Did your parents buy you those shoes when you came here? I always buy shoes for kids in third-world countries. Do you feel weird? Wearing shoes?”

(And yet another random person:)

Yet Another Random Person: “So, is Mexico nice?”

Me: “I don’t know. I’m from Costa Rica.”

Yet Another Random Person: “It’s the same. Isn’t Costa Rica a coast in Mexico?”

Me: “No.”

Yet Another Random Person: “I’m pretty sure it is.”

(When I am older and I’m back in the states, a guy is trying to impress me and asks me about my country.)

Me: “Costa Rica.”

Guy: “Oh, don’t we own you or something?”

Me: “What!? No. I think you are thinking Puerto Rico.”

Guy: “It’s the same. Costa Rica is ‘owned’ by the US, too.”

Me: “Mmm, no.”

Guy: “Well, I think it is.”

(The silver lining is that nowadays this happens a lot less than it used to.)

(I am the operations manager for a popular department store. It’s my birthday. We have closed up, and despite working a full shift, I still got to go on a nice birthday date with my boyfriend. I get a call at two am from the alarm company for the store; they have a motion sensor going off at the store and none of the other three managers are answering their phones. I tell them to not dispatch a patrol car yet; our store is charged for that and it’s likely a false alarm. I get up, and my boyfriend insists on driving me since I had several glasses of wine that evening. We arrive at the store fifteen minutes later, and there is actually a person. She has wedged our automatic doors slightly open and is jabbing a stick into the space where the lock would be. She sees our headlights and turns around before going back to it. I get out of the car, followed by my boyfriend.)

Me: “You need to stop that.”

Customer: “No, I ordered items for pickup and I am picking them up.”

Me: “You can’t be serious. Stop this. Step away from the door or I’m calling the police.”

Customer: “Do you work here? Go get my items; they’re under [Last Name]. It should be [a whole slew of things].”

(My boyfriend is getting fed up. I’m fed up. This woman is crazy. I realize I don’t have a nametag on.)

Me: “You have just gotten me out of bed on my birthday to come down here and tell you you’re behaving like an entitled child! If you don’t step away from those doors, you’re going to have to call the cops on me, because, so help me, I’m done putting up with crazy s*** like this.”

(She looks at me with wide eyes.)

Me: “I don’t want your business. Cancel your order when you get home. I don’t want to see you here ever again; are we clear?”

(She scampered off. My boyfriend and I stopped for late-night snacks on the way home.)

Customer: “Hey, will you guys be hiring for Christmas?”

Me: “We will! There’s a seasonal hiring fair scheduled in a few weeks. If you want to get on the email list, I can put you down.”

Customer: “Oh, yeah. I’m retired, looking for a little extra money. I want to work security. I used to, you know, in college.”

Me: “I don’t think we will have any seasonal loss prevention jobs available, but you can check out the jobs we will be listing.”

Customer: “Oh, that’s a shame. I used to love working security. Used to love watching the girls change in the fitting rooms through the mirrors. I can only imagine what those guys see now with cameras, ha!”

(As soon as he walked away, I crossed his email address off of the list.)

Customer: “Without that lanyard on, I wouldn’t be able to tell you work here.”

Me: “That’s why I wear this lanyard.”