I have a very large chest. This happened a few years ago after my chest went through its last growth spurt. I went into the only lingerie store in my small town to get resized. I explained up front that I knew they didn’t carry my size but would like to be fitted so I had a better idea of what to order. The girl took me into the fitting room to get a few measurements.

Clerk: “Good news! We actually do carry your size on our website, but not in-store. Although, we do have a few fitting bras for you to try on so you know what to order. We can even place the order for you in the store so you’ll get free shipping.”

Me: “Oh, cool. The last time I was here, you didn’t carry a large enough size.”

Clerk: “Yeah, we just expanded our size range. You’re a 38DDD.”

Me: “Are you sure? Usually, the band size I wear is a 34. My best guess is that I should be around a 34G.”

Clerk: “Yes, you probably just wore the old ones and they stretched out with you so they seem to fit.”

I found this statement to be incredibly rude, but she seemed utterly clueless, so I just let it go, mostly because I wanted to see where this was going.

Me: “Okay, that doesn’t seem right to me, but I would be happy to try them on.”

She came back and handed me two bras. I tried them on and they were awful; they were both too small and too big at the same time. I considered just leaving, but I wanted to see if I could get her to fit me correctly after she saw how bad they were. Just to note, I did have the loose bra-fitting T-shirt on.

Clerk: “Is it okay if I come in and check the fit?”

Me: “Yes, but I was right; these do not fit at all.”

Clerk: “Oh, no, those fit you perfectly.”

Me: “No, they don’t. They are so tight on my chest that my boobs are mushrooming out the top, and the band is so loose that if I raise my arms I’ll fall out of it. I can even fit my entire fist in the band.”

I lifted the shirt slightly and showed her that my fist did in fact fit in the band with extra wiggle room.

Clerk: “No, it’s supposed to fit like that. You have just been in the wrong size for so long you’re just used to a tight band. Having a band too tight is what causes back pain.”

Me: “I don’t have back pain. And what about the fact that I have mushroom boobs?”

Clerk: “You just need to push them down farther, or try on the full-coverage option if you don’t like having cleavage. It fits you fine.”

Me: “This is the full-coverage bra. There’s a difference between cleavage and spilling out, and no, it doesn’t. Could you please remeasure?”

She gave an annoyed sigh but did remeasure me.

Clerk: “I’m getting the same numbers. That is the correct size. Would you like me to place an order for you?”

I didn’t say anything. I just lifted my arms and shrugged my shoulders and, as I predicted, the band slid up over my chest and stayed there even after I dropped my arms down.

Me: “Is this supposed to happen? I really don’t think this is the correct size.”

The clerk stared at my chest for a second with the band now across the top of my boobs, not under them, and without saying a word, she turned and walked out of the dressing room. I got dressed, left the store, and never went back.

I go with my parents to a restaurant. It’s not super busy, and the food is delicious, so we enjoy our meal.

Server #1: “Is everything in order?”

All Three Of Us: “Yes, it’s delicious, thank you.”

About seven minutes later:

Server #2: “Good evening. Is everything in order?”

All Three Of Us: “Sure, it’s great.”

In the Netherlands, servers don’t usually get a certain section and just go where they are needed. And about ten minutes later:

Server #3: “Hello. Is everything to your liking?”

We look at each other but answer:

All Three Of Us: “Yes, thank you.”

When the server has left, we start grinning.

Mom: “How many more times will they ask?”

Me: “Did we already have all the servers ask us?”

Dad: “No, that man over there and that girl over there haven’t stopped by yet.”

Mom: “Will they? Surely they saw the others; it’s not that busy.”

Me: “Maybe that’s the reason. But my guess is that girl is next and we’ll finish off with that man.”

Dad: “Deal!”

And yes, not much later:

Female Server: “How are you doing tonight? Is all well?”

All Three Of Us: “Yes, thank you!”

And, after only five more minutes:

Male Server: “And how are we doing tonight? Is all to your liking?”

Me: “Called it!”

My parents started laughing, and I explained to the confused server. I also emphasized that we didn’t mind and thought it was funny. The servers did leave us alone after that… or so we thought.

When we got the tab, they neatly lined up and said, united:

Servers: “We hope it was to your liking!”

Tipping is not common in the Netherlands, and we didn’t have much change on us, but we made sure each and every server got a little extra.

Dinner and a show — what a lovely surprise!

This is my father’s story. He’s the kind of man who always checks his receipts after a purchase before leaving the store. If he finds an error, he tells the cashier. He does this even when it means he is supposed to pay more than he did. This causes the employees who have been around for a while at our local grocery store to be very trusting of him.

He takes some studies later in life. He studies on the subway on his way home, and then he stops by the grocery store to shop. While he is there, he notices one of the newer employees keeping an eye on him, but he doesn’t give it much thought. As he goes to pay, however, the new employee comes up.

New Employee: “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Dad: “I am? Did I drop something?”

New Employee: “No! I mean, aren’t you going to pay for what you have in your backpack?”

Dad: *Confused* “My backpack? I don’t have any groceries in my backpack.”

Cashier: “[New Employee], it’s fine.”

New Employee: “No, I saw you put something in your backpack! You need to pay for it.”

Dad: “I didn’t put anything in my backpack.”

New Employee: “Yes, you did! I saw it!”

Cashier: “[New Employee], it is fine. He didn’t put anything in his backpack; he said so. That will be [total].”

New Employee: “No, he did! I didn’t see what it was, but it was about this big.” *Shows with her hands* “Open up your backpack so I can take it out.”

Dad: “No. I am not letting you mess around in my bag. I keep my expensive college books in there! Some of them have very fragile pages.”

Then, it dawns on him: the book he read on the subway. He had forgotten to get it back into the backpack, so he did it while he was in the store.

Dad: “Oh! Do you mean this?”

He opens the backpack and shows her the book. It’s the correct size.

New Employee: “Yes! Oh…”

The cashier repeats the total and he pays. As he goes to pack, he also checks the receipt.

While he does so, he overhears the cashier and the new employee talking. The new employee says the cashier should trust her, and the cashier then explains exactly what he is doing right now with the receipt and how he has come back to pay more when they’ve made errors. 

My dad confirms there are no errors today.

Dad: “Thank you, and I’m sorry for confusing you. It is a good thing to prevent theft. Have a nice evening!”

Six years after I finish my BA degree, I start a new job as a Senior Investment Advisor at one of the largest financial institutions in Canada. Unlike my previous job, I get to have my own office which has my nameplate — also reflecting my position — on the door.

One day, I gave to stay a bit past office hours (9:00 to 5:00) to finish up some tasks. Just when I start getting ready to leave, the night shift janitors arrive to service our floor. Among the cleaning staff members, I recognize one of them as someone I went to university with. I do not approach her to say hi because: A) we just had one class together and we barely even spoke to each other, B) it has been a very long time since I last saw and heard of her, and C) she was a “mean girl” back then and enjoyed tearing people down.

I particularly remember [Cleaner] because, one time, the professor asked me an opinion-based question, which I answered. [Cleaner] disagreed with me and even said my answer was s***ty in front of the entire class. It did affect me, but not for very long because I eventually moved on and put the situation behind me.

Most people, like me, leave their office doors open. We have never had an incident where someone has reported something missing from their office. As I head out toward the elevator, I can see that [Cleaner] has reached my office to clear my garbage bins. I don’t think anything of it because it is part of her job to step into my office to do her work. When I am getting ready to pull out of the parking lot, one of the junior advisors calls me.

Me: “Hey!”

Junior Advisor: “Hi, [My Name]! I’m sorry for calling after hours. This might be a long shot, but are you still in the office?”

Me: “Well, I just got into my car at the building’s parking lot. But yes, technically, I’m still at work. What’s up?”

Junior Advisor: “I just noticed that my card case has been misplaced. I checked my bag and looked everywhere in my apartment, but it is nowhere to be found. If you can, would you mind terribly going back upstairs and checking my workstation and drawers? I would greatly appreciate it.”

Me: “Of course, that’s no problem. I am heading back up right now and will give you a call when I’m done.”

Junior Advisor: “Thank you so much! Lunch is on me next time whether you find my card case or not!”

Me: “No worries. Talk to you later.”

Junior Advisor: “Okay, bye!”

When I am back upstairs, I go straight to [Junior Advisor]’s desk. Unfortunately, I do not find the card case, but I decide to let one of the janitors know and ask them to hand it to the lobby’s security if someone from the cleaning team finds it.

As I make my way out, I notice that [Cleaner] is still in my office. From where I am standing, it looks like she is snooping around my desk. I manage to quietly sneak into my office and stand there for a good ten seconds. She opens one of my drawers, so at this point, I can confirm that she is snooping.

I wait for [Cleaner] to turn around and give her a “surprise”, but she is too focused and is taking her sweet time going through my stuff. I decided to break my silence.

Me: “Can I help you find anything?”

Cleaner: *Startled* “Oh, geez, you scared me! You’re too quiet. Oh, my God, [My Name], it’s you! I saw your name on the door but didn’t know that it was the [My Full Name] from uni. It’s so great to see you! Not sure if you remember me, but I’m [Cleaner’s Full Name]. We had a class together.”

Me: “Oh, hi, [Cleaner]. I can see that you have already done your job, which was clearing up my bins. Can I ask what else you were doing?”

Cleaner: *Nervously* “Oh, yeah, because I saw your name on the door… And I was looking to see if you have any cleaning supplies so I could wipe down your desk and disinfect your keyboard and monitors. You know, I want to go the extra mile with the service so I can get positive feedback.”

Me: “Uh-huh.”

I know she is lying. From what I’ve heard, the janitors are not supposed to be wiping up the staff’s desks and equipment. This is an add-on service that is not covered, and if someone from the building wishes to do this, they must submit a request form, and it must be approved by the property manager. The policy she is violating could lead her to dismissal.

Cleaner: “Look, I didn’t have to do this. I was simply being nice to an old friend.”

Me: *Firmly* “Right. Well, I’m going to ask you to stop. You already cleared the bins, and I don’t need you to do anything else.”

Cleaner: “Wow, okay. You don’t need to be so b****y about it. No good deed goes unpunished.”

I decided not to waste my time with her and just went home. I also called [Junior Advisor] to let him know I didn’t find his case card.

I don’t have any valuables in my office, so I wasn’t worried about stuff going missing. The next day, I told my boss about what had happened, and she agreed that [Cleaner] was only supposed to clear the bins. My boss emailed the property manager about the incident. They responded promptly.

Weeks passed, and my boss told me that the cleaning company addressed the situation by letting [Cleaner] go. Apparently, I was not the only one who had complained about her. Other tenants saw that she was taking office supplies from their units, and her own coworkers said that she would often help herself to anything in the fridges of the units her team was assigned to service.

I take my car to a local tire place to get four new tires and an alignment. After a few hours, I am called up to the front. The mechanic is there, and he just starts spouting technical jargon at me. 

I think he aggressively says, “Rear toe links are not adjustable!” or something to that effect. I’m looking between him and the sales guy and trying to process what’s being said. I finally work out that he can’t do the alignment because the rear toe links are not adjustable.

He wants the full history of the car, and he wants to know how long I’ve owned it and who worked on it last, etc. He just keeps badgering me and repeating that the toe links are not adjustable. He’s being very aggressive regarding my answers, and I’m just trying to understand what’s going on.

I’m feeling overwhelmed.

Me: “So, you can’t do the alignment. Okay.”

Mechanic: “They are not adjustable!”

I keep looking back and forth from the mechanic to the sales guy, hoping that someone will help me out. It’s like he wanted me to magically make them adjustable or something — I don’t know what. I am not impressed. We finally agree that he will bring the car out and I will leave.

I call the dealership where we got the car, who did a toe link recall on this car.

Dealership: “The rear toe links are absolutely adjustable. Bring it in tomorrow.”

They do the alignment without any problem or any charge.

Dealership Mechanic: “I have no idea why the tire place couldn’t do the alignment. We do four or five of these a week.”

I call the tire shop back because I was charged money for them to do an alignment that they said they couldn’t do. I talk to [Employee] who offers to refund my money but then also becomes combative.

Employee: “I remember your car. It absolutely cannot be done. Dealerships like to throw small shops under the bus!”

[Employee] sends me a text message that details how rear toe links get adjusted. He has me crawling under the car to look at the toe links myself. I’m tired of the combative nature of the place, so I say forget it, we’re square.

Employee: “No, come in for the refund. I insist. I’m going to give you your money back even though our shop did absolutely nothing wrong.”

I do a quick Google search for [my vehicle] rear toe link alignment and find a YouTube video that explains the whole process in four minutes. I send the guy the link. All he responds is:

Employee: “Yep, there it is, right there. [Facepalm Emoji].” 

I wonder how many return customers they get? I’m slightly afraid to make the trip in to their place to get a refund because who knows what aggression I’m going to get?