The wiring at the gas station I work for is notoriously bad. Any time the weather turns, or even on a day with a particularly stiff breeze, the power flickers. It rarely goes out, but the flickering is enough to force our registers to reset, which takes three or four minutes to finish. However, this can be avoided; if register A is allowed to cycle through its reset before B, C, D, or E are used after a flicker, those others will NOT reset. The problem is, register A is on the other side of the building.

One night, the power flickers off for about three seconds while I have a room full of people wanting cigarettes and a line through our drive-thru window. I am completely on my own as we are short-staffed today, and the other worker is on their lunch.

Me: “Well, this is less than ideal. Excuse me, folks, but I need to run next door really quickly!”

I sprint into the back room to the other side of the store and throw the door open to call over to my supervisor.

Me: “Hey! I’ve got a building and drive-thru filled to the brim! Call me as soon as register A is back up!”

I then sprint back to where I’d been, but as I slow down to turn a corner, I manage to slam my elbow into a metal filing cabinet. However, with the adrenaline, I don’t feel it at first.

Me: “Okay, everyone, good news! They’re gonna tell me when I can run the register again! Give it like, three or four minutes! I’m gonna start grabbing orders, so one at a time, tell me what you’re after! I also need to warn you that I managed to slam my elbow into a corner on the way back up here because I’m just that good. I can’t feel it yet — I’m a little hopped up on adrenaline — so in a minute or two, after I’ve calmed down, I may suddenly screech in pain. Nothing to worry about, though, so please don’t freak out!”

Luckily, from as long as I’d worked there, they all knew me well enough to not mind. I got my call and could calm down and get everyone out of the store. And, yes, about a minute after everything settled down, I screeched in pain because I could finally feel where I’d hit my elbow.

I’m doing a little shopping in the city with my mom since we have a little time to kill before an appointment. We’re chatting a little and not really paying attention to our surroundings until someone all but jumps in front of us.

Guy: “Hi! My name is [Guy] and I’m from [Charity Organisation]! Do you have a few minutes?”

Mom is a bit startled and wary but still willing to listen.

Mom: “Well, we’ve got a little time to spare, I guess…”

Guy: “Great! Could I have your name, please?”

Mom: “It’s [Mom].”

He writes that down. During the whole discussion, he uses the informal variant of “you,”which in German is mainly used for friends and family but not strangers.

Guy: “So, [Mom], as I said, I’m from [Charity] and we—”

Mom: *Cutting him off* “Before you start, maybe you can save your breath. I know what [Charity] does, but I’m not interested in giving money to some stranger that stopped me in the streets.”

The guy smiles, but it starts to seem a little forced and condescending.

Guy: “[Mom], why don’t you just listen and let me talk?”

He then launches into an extensive spiel about his charity and what they do. During his last sentences, he almost pushes an empty form into my hands.

Guy: “So, now, if you just enter your information and sign here—”

Mom: “Wait a minute. I just told you I won’t give away any cash and that includes not signing any membership application. If you have some flyers or pamphlets, I’d happily take them with me so I could make a donation via money transfer, but I’m not comfortable giving my bank account information to someone I don’t even know.”

Guy: “No, I don’t have any pamphlets. I told you I’m [Guy], so we’re not strangers anymore, right? Now, just fill in your information and sign here, please. Why wouldn’t you want to?”

Mom: “For one, it’s my decision how I spend my money. And besides that, I’ve had bad experiences with a scammer that pressured me into signing a contract when I was younger.”

Guy: “Well, we’re no scammers; we are [Charity]!” *Points to his name badge* “[Mom], it’s really not difficult. You could be really making a difference with your donations!”

Mom: *Getting really fed up* “Look, I’ve repeatedly told you I won’t be signing this. You say you are with [Charity], but anyone could print a badge like yours and claim that.”

The guy tries to speak up again but she raises her hand to stop him.

Mom: “Besides, we’ve got an appointment and need to go now so we’ll be there on time.”

He tried to keep us for a little longer but we left. On our way back, we made sure to take a different route just to avoid running into him again. It’s not like my mom or I don’t want to donate money for a good cause, but if an organisation doesn’t offer pamphlets or accept one-time donations via money transfer, they can’t really expect people to sign a membership form just because someone on the street pushes it at them.

On my campus, we have a few places to eat. One of these places is a burrito place. It’s pretty good, but I’ve started becoming uncomfortable going because of a few incidents. 

The first incident: I walk up to the guy who’s making my burrito. 

Employee #1: “What would you like today?”

Me: “A burrito, please.”

Employee #1: “Do you want rice and beans on that?”

Me: “Yes, please.”

Employee #1: “Protein?”

Me: “Oh, uh, no protein, please.”

Employee #1: *In a snotty tone* “You know, you don’t have to say please so much.”

I am very self-conscious, so I promptly shut up and barely say anything else for the rest of the order except what I want. 

The second incident: I walk up to a different employee at a different time of day. 

Employee #2: “Hi, what can I get for you?”

Me: “A burrito, please.”

Everything goes perfectly fine while I order; the employee puts my order behind the glass divider within her reach but not within mine. I go to pay for my food with a different employee… and neither of them gives me my food.

Me: “Um… excuse me? Excuse me?”

For a solid minute, I try to get both of their attention so I can get my food, which has been paid for, while they socialize with a different customer. I finally get one’s attention.

Me: “Hi, sorry. Could I, um, actually have my food, please?”

I give a nervous laugh to show I’m joking.

The employee gives me a snotty look and slaps the box into my hand. Nothing spills, but the look she gives me makes me feel completely embarrassed for asking for food that I’ve actually purchased. 

The third incident: my roommate goes to go get a burrito. The — third and different — employee puts rice and beans, no meat, cheese, and lettuce, and begins to close the burrito. Only BEGINNING to close it; that is, she’s folded the wrap over the tiniest amount.

Roommate: “Oh, sorry, could I get sour cream and cilantro on that, please?”

The employee huffed loudly, slapped the burrito back open, flung cilantro on it, squirted too much sour cream on, and wrapped it up as aggressively as she could. I get that you’re tired and want to end the semester, too, but still…

This happened a few years ago when I was still in college. I was working at a fast food joint that was… an interesting place to work, to say the least. I had also been dating this guy for a few months when both of his parents died. The funeral was scheduled for Saturday of that week when I was scheduled to work. It was an all-day event two hours away. However, I wanted to pay my respects, so I asked my manager what my options were. 

My manager told me I could just switch with someone else. I talked with another coworker who was scheduled for Sunday but not Saturday and we agreed to switch. My manager cleared it, and I thought all was well and good.

Cut to Saturday. As soon as I turned my phone back on after the service, I saw a few missed calls from work. Yes, they had tried calling during the service itself. I called back and it was my shift lead asking where I was. Initially, I thought my coworker had no-showed, but no, she was there. 

Puzzled, I asked what the problem was since she was covering my shift. Apparently , they had wanted us both to come in, but hadn’t mentioned it until now, but could I come in today? I told them no, it wasn’t possible, and that I’d see them tomorrow.

The next day, I came in for the Sunday morning shift to see that my coworker I’d switched with was in, as well. Apparently, they told her she was still expected to work it. Not even an hour later, she was sent home because it wasn’t busy enough to warrant having that much staff. I left that job a few months later and can’t say I was too disappointed about that.

I’m the office millennial, and I often use phrases from TV shows and movies from my childhood, such as, “No, this is Patrick,” “Hakuna Matata,” and, “She doesn’t even go here!” I’m also not known for swearing.

One of my managers and I are pretty close and hang out a lot outside work. She also has a daughter around my age and likes to use the lingo she learns with me, so I try to sprinkle some of these phrases into everyday conversation.

One day, I’m discussing tasks I have to do with my manager.

Manager: “So, do you think you can do that this afternoon?”

Me: “Yep.”

Manager: “Are you sure? You can ask [Coworker] to help you with the filing, since I need these numbers today, and those can wait.”

Me: *Smiling* “Abso-f******-lutely!”

Manager: “Uh…”

Me: *Realizing what I just said* “Oh, my goodness! I did not mean to say that! I was trying to say, ‘Absotively posilutely,’ which is still childish, so not much better, but I did not mean to swear!”

Manager: *Laughing* “It’s okay! Girl, I swear ten times a day in here; I was wondering when you’d crack!”