(My tire light keeps going off and on. I keep taking it in to get checked and no one can figure out what the issue is. I’m a female in my late 20s but I look much younger. The tech that’s been helping me is an older guy, about my dad’s age. I walk into the shop, and my normal tech is cashing someone out.)

Tech #1: “Hello, young lady! Don’t tell me. The tire light went off again.”

Me: “Yep.”

Tech #1: “I think it might be an issue with your sensor. I’m gonna have [Tech #2] check you in, and then I’ll look into it myself when I’m done with this other customer. Okay?”

Me: “Great. Thanks!”

([Tech #2], who is about my age, waves me over.)

Tech #2: “Okay, so you’re [My Name] with the [Make and Model], right?”

Me: “Yep.”

Tech #2: “I was working on it last time, and I gotta tell you… your alignment is way off on that car.”

Me: “Really? I’ve been in here three times in the last month and no one’s said anything about it.”

Tech #2: “Well, it’s important to get your car re-aligned. Otherwise, it’ll drift, and you could cause an accident. I’d be happy to add that on today.”

Me: “How much is it?”

(He names a price that almost hits four figures.)

Me: “No. I can’t afford that. I don’t know what’s actually wrong with my car, and I’m not adding on any other services until I do.”

Tech #2: “But you could cause an accident! You don’t want that, do you?”

Me: “I just want my tires checked. That’s it.”

Tech #2: “Whatever.”

(He checks me in and drives my car onto the rack. I sit in the waiting area and pull out a book. Ten minutes later, [Tech #1] walks back into the store and waves me over.)

Tech #1: “I’ve only checked one tire, but I had to show you this. Been driving through any road work zones lately?”

Me: “They’re doing construction and road work near my office. Why?”

(He produces a very large nail that is the same shade of black as my tire.)

Me: “WHAT?!”

Tech #1: “It was in there at such an angle that you couldn’t tell until you took the tire off the car– which, of course, no one did until today. I’m sorry about that. That’s on us. I’m going to take the other tires off and make sure you don’t have any more.”

(He goes back outside. Twenty minutes later, he comes back in.)

Tech #1: “Well, [My Name], looks like you’ve got nails in two other tires. You’re gonna need a new set. We are having a sale on your brand, so that’ll take the cost down. I really recommend we get those on today.”

Me: “You might as well. Can’t drive a car with three damaged tires. Quick question, though. Is my alignment off?”

Tech #1: “What? No. The rest of your car is great. Why?”

Me: “Someone told me it was off.”

([Tech #1] looks over at [Tech #2] and sighs.)

Tech #1: “Nope. Not your car. Ignore that. I’m gonna get those tires on your car and get you out of here. I’ll throw on another discount, as well.”

(While the tires were still a few hundred dollars, the additional discount helped a lot. I only use that mechanic now. I’ve been there a few other times for oil changes, and I haven’t seen [Tech #2] since.)

(I’m working on a project at home when someone knocks on the door. I answer, and it’s someone with a clipboard and a jumpsuit from [Electric Company]. Note: I’m in my 20s and own the house.)

Salesman: “Hi there. Is [Name] home?”

Me: “No?”

Salesman: “Oh, okay. Is your mom home?”

Me: “My mom is dead. And before you ask, no, my dad isn’t here.”

Salesman: “So, they just left a child home alone?!”

Me: “Sir, I own this house. I pay the utilities. I’m very much an adult.”

Salesman: “Oh, then let me tell you about—”

Me: “Stop right there. Do you think I’m going to at all be interested in your services now?”

Salesman: “But we’re cheaper than [Current Electric Provider]!”

Me: “Actually, I looked into it when I bought the house. They’re cheaper and have far better customer service. Please don’t come back.”

(I shut the door in his face. A few hours later, I get a knock on my door again. The same salesman is back.)

Me: “Sir, what could you possibly be offering that I haven’t already said no to?”

Salesman: “Well, we offer a student discount! You could save even more—”

Me: “I’m not a student.”

Salesman: “Of course you are! We offer—”

Me: “Sir, I asked you not to come back. You’ve instead returned to harass me more.”

Salesman: “I’m just trying to save you money!”

(My dog, a very large German Shepherd, decides to poke his head out between me and the doorframe. He apparently doesn’t like the salesman, either, and starts growling.)

Salesman: “I, uh, will mark you down as not interested!”

(He didn’t come back.)

(In this story, everyone is wrong, but I’m putting it here because this was all started by my stupidity. My family owns property in West Virginia and we frequently make the six-hour drive for weekends and such. Usually, we take my father’s truck as it handles the mountains well, but my boyfriend and I need to drive separately so we take his tiny little car, instead. There are heavy winds and the car starts making strange sounds and having trouble making it up the hills. We finally decide to stop off at a repair shop to get it checked out.)

Mechanic: “What can I help you with today?”

Me: “Our car is really struggling up hills and making odd sounds. We were wondering if you could figure out what’s going on?”

Mechanic: “Well, mind if we all go for a ride?”

Me: “That’s fine!”

(We hand over the keys and all hop in the car with the mechanic driving. He proceeds down a very narrow and busy backroad overlooking a steep mountain drop. He proceeds to go 90 in a 55, zipping around all traffic using the oncoming lane and what little shoulder there is. He floors the car at every hill and the car flies up each one.)

Mechanic: *nonchalantly* “Yeah, your problem is that you weren’t giving her enough gas. You just need to push it a little on these hills. The car can handle it.”

(Miraculously, we made it back after the longest ten minutes of my life. We tipped the man and made it the rest of the drive without incident. Now I’ve learned to never let a stranger drive my car, even if they are a mechanic trying to diagnose a problem.)

(My mom, my husband, and I have stopped by a Chinese takeout place to pick up food for ourselves, my dad, and my two brothers.)

Mom: “We’d like six to-go meals.”

(She indicates the Styrofoam clamshells which are the general de-facto meal size here. These come with one side and two meats. There are options for meals with one side and one meat, which comes in a plastic bowl, and for one side and three meats, which is uncommon. We do plan on getting two extra servings of meat on the side, which will make two of our meals ring up as one side and three meats, but we never mention these until later on so we don’t confuse the employees.)

Counter Employee: “Okay!”

(She takes our first order, writing shorthand for each food on the clamshell. She has to pause to ask another employee what the shorthand is for one of the meats.)

Counter Employee: “And you wanted three meats on that, right?”

Mom: “No, we’re getting six meals each with two meats.”

(The girl takes the rest of our orders, pausing once to fill a clamshell. I’m unsure if this clamshell was for one of our meals, but almost speak up about it because she has just filled half the clamshell with the dregs of the last batch of chow mein, which at this point is almost entirely cabbage and celery. After checking with other employees for the shorthand for two more meats, the girl finishes writing our orders and starts filling our clamshells. Almost immediately we see her putting fried rice, [chicken #1], and [premium meat #1] in a clamshell.)

Me: “Wait, is that supposed to be one of ours?”

Counter Employee: *mumbles*

Mom: “That’s not right. We only ordered [premium meat #1] on one meal, with veggies and [premium meat #2]. That plate should have either double [chicken #1] or [chicken #1] and [chicken #2].”

(The girl starts mumbling to her supervisor, who is now trying to figure out what’s going on. My mom asks her to hold the food where she can see it, and rather than holding the clamshell under the sneeze guard where we can see it, she holds it flat at eye level behind both the metal top of the sneeze guard and another employee’s head, at this point standing about six feet away from us. There is NO way to see what’s in there, even for my tall husband.)

Mom: “Can you hold it where I can see it?”

Counter Employee: *holds the clamshell exactly where she held it before, not bothering to move closer*

(The supervisor determines the girl has written the wrong shorthand for [chicken #2]. I had watched as she asked for the shorthand for [chicken #2].)

Counter Employee: *starts filling more of our clamshells*

Mom: “Can I get more than just three pieces of shrimp in the shrimp [premium meat #2] that I’m paying $2 extra for?”

Counter Employee: *mumbles*

(The manager has noticed what’s going on.)

Manager: “The serving size for shrimp is five shrimp.”

Counter Employee: *mumbles more*

Manager: “Do you want us to give you a second serving of shrimp?”

Mom: “No, I want her to give me all five pieces of shrimp I’m paying for, not three pieces and a ton of vegetables.”

Manager: *whispers to the employee*

Counter Employee: *finally puts more shrimp in the meal, then continues making our meals*

Me: “Wait, wait, you aren’t going to fill all three of our meals with chow mein with cabbage and celery leftovers? Was that one of ours that I saw you do that to before?”

(There are fewer noodles in the entire pan than go in a standard serving of chow mein, but almost enough veggies that she could fill ours with “chow mein” if she emptied the pan. They check all our clamshells, and it appears that the meal I saw her fill with cabbage, celery, and a few shorter noodles went to some poor person who didn’t see what she was doing.)

Manager: *to the employee* “Wait until the new pan of chow mein is done.” *to my mom* “The next pan of chow mein is almost done.”

(The manager walks over and says something to the cashier, and as he walks out into the restaurant area I approach him to explain to him just how many issues have been popping up from this girl.)

Me: “I know walking up midway it seems like my mom is being dramatic about this, but this girl has been making big mistakes every step of the way.” *explains exactly what happened before the manager came over* “We definitely will be checking every one of our meals before we pay.”

Manager: “Wow, okay, this is something she needs to go back to training for. And I agree with you to check all your meals. How many people do you have here right now? Would you like free drinks?”

(The manager gives my husband and me free drink cups and talks to my mom, who refuses the cup because she doesn’t drink soda. He discusses what has happened with my mom while my husband and I fill our cups. My husband and I walk back over as they are lining up our meals to check them.)

Mom: “Wait? Why is there another meal with [premium meat #1] in it? We already went through this once.”

(I look at the plate and see that it has chow mein. All three meals with chow mein are supposed to have [chicken #1] or [chicken #2] and the same beef side.)

Me: “That’s supposed to have [beef side] in it.”

(An employee filled a small container with our other serving of [beef side] as the manager told us to just take the mistaken serving of [premium meat#1] for free. In the end, we left with only one serving of the side meat we had planned on getting two servings of because it would have been ten minutes longer to wait for the other. When we got our meals home, I looked at the shorthand labels on them. Almost every one of them was scribbled over and rewritten, and the girl had managed to mislabel both [chicken #2] and [beef side] as [premium meat #1], despite having asked for help with the shorthand for all three of those meats.)

(My friend is at a grocery store that also has a pharmacy counter in it. He stops by the pharmacy, but as it’s fairly early in the morning, the counter isn’t open yet. He goes to find an employee:)

Friend: “Excuse me, could you tell me when the pharmacy will be open? I was just over there, but I didn’t see the hours posted anywhere.”

Employee: “Oh, yeah, the pharmacy’s right over there!” *points*

Friend: “No, sorry, I know where the pharmacy is. I was just there. I’d like to know when it will be open.”

Employee: “Yeah, so, the pharmacy is just right over there.” *points to it again*

Friend: “…”

(This repeats a few more times, until:)

Employee: *gives directions to pharmacy yet again*

Friend: “Right. Thanks.” *wanders off to find a different employee to ask*

(After telling me this story:)

Me: “Maybe if you had asked for directions instead, they would’ve told you when it opens!”