I was meeting a friend for breakfast one morning, and rather than drive I decided to get a taxi using a well-known taxi app.

Everything was going fine until I innocently mentioned that my weekend plans involved visiting my baby niece. The driver asked if I had kids or was married, and I happily said no and that I had no intention of either.

Big. Mistake.

I was treated to the remaining fifteen-minute journey listening to a lecture on how his culture’s children were better than mine because they stay with their parents, care for them, and don’t leave them. He said I probably moved out as soon as I could, because that is what “my culture” encouraged. He was genuinely shocked when I said I visit my parents weekly and we all live very close to each other.

As I seriously considered how painful it would be to ditch out of a car doing 40 mph on a busy road, he then started extolling the benefits of arranged marriage, how well it worked, and why it was the best thing ever. He said I should really consider it because I need to have kids, because who would look after me when I am old, otherwise?

Throughout, his tone was calm and reasonable, and he kept asking if I agreed with him — prompting non-committal noises from me. I was honestly worried at making him angry if I disagreed, like he was waiting for me to say something.

When we arrived at the restaurant, he parked about as far away as he could manage. It was raining. I didn’t care. 

Next time someone asks me about my personal life, I’m going to stick to the tried and tested “Yes, I have a son! He is three and moves very quickly! He’s a fussy eater, though. Want to see a picture? Yes, I know that’s a snake… Where are you going?”

(I am a male checkout supervisor, running the department on my own for a while. I get called over to the self-scan checkouts.)

Colleague: “This lady forgot to get tonic water. Can you get some for her?”

Me: “Sure.” *to customer* “Any particular brand, madam?”

Customer: *rudely* “TON-NIC WA-TER!”

(I go to the water aisle and find we’re all out; it has been very hot. I take back some sparkling water, instead.)

Me: “Sorry about the wait. I’m afraid we were all out so I brought–”

Customer: “TON-NIC WA-TER!” *to my colleague* “Is he new? Is he always this rude and useless? I said TON-NIC WA-TER!”

Me: “We were all out, but—”

Customer: “TON-NIC WA-TER!” *leaves in a huff, still repeating, “TON-NIC WA-TER!”*

Colleague: “I’m so sorry about that. How rude!”

(Turns out she had been rude to every male colleague in the store! We made sure only females dealt with her afterwards, whom she was always really nice to!)

(A friend of mine works in car sales for a major German car manufacturer. There is one woman who is a continual bane to the dealership. Almost weekly she calls and complains about things that are wrong with her car and demands they change them. She always causes such a fuss that she gets a number of free services and discounts. One day, she starts to threaten with legal action over something apparently minor. Most people there hate dealing with her but because she and her husband spent lots of money, the boss tries to keep them happy despite that they’re a major pain. As a gesture of goodwill, they send her a bottle of pretty nice champagne and my friend gives her a courtesy call to see if it has been received. Immediately, he can tell this will be hard.)

Customer: “Hello?”

Friend: “Oh, hello, Mrs. [Customer]. It’s [Friend] from [Dealership].”

Customer: *snaps* “WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

Friend: “Err… I was just calling to see if you received the bottle of champagne we sent you recently!”

Customer: “YES, I DID! IT WAS TOO SWEET AND I POURED IT DOWN THE SINK! SEND A BETTER ONE!” *hangs up*

(After that one, their boss no longer encouraged them to try and keep her happy and told the woman to find a new dealership because they were fed up with dealing with the abuse.)

(I currently live with my mum. She’s bought a tub of dressed olives that she’s eating.)

Mum: “You know, there’s a bit too many in here for me… Do you want some?” 

(She extends the tub in my direction.)

Me: “No, thanks. I don’t like olives.”

Mum: “Oh, okay.” *stands there thinking* “I know. I’ll put the rest in tonight’s tea!”

Me: “I… don’t like olives, Mum.”

Mum: “Yes, chicken and olives. Sounds lovely, doesn’t it?”

Me: “No. I don’t like olives.”

Mum: “Okay, dear, I heard you.”

(There were olives in the tea. I was told off for picking them out.)

(At my store, we have two “stand up tills,” designed for small basket shops of just a few items. We stand behind the tills, with the screen facing us, and the customers stand on the other side. Behind us is the back end of a long magazine stand, which acts as the boundary for the till area. It’s a bit of a squeeze to get to the staff area of these tills, but it is fairly obvious which side the customer goes to. It should also be noted that our uniforms are black. One day I am serving [Customer #1], a lady wearing a black top.)

Customer #1: “I was looking for a small chill bag to put my steak in, but I couldn’t find one. Do you have any left?”

Me: “We should have some over by Till 2. I’ll get someone to check.”

(I ring for a supervisor, but it is busy and they are all dealing with other customers.)

Me: “It’ll be quicker if I grab one myself. I’ll be right back!”

Customer #1: “Thanks!”

(Luckily, we have a few of the chill bags left, so I grab one and head back to my till. I have been away ten seconds at most. When I get back, there is another customer standing behind my till! She is talking to [Customer #1].)

Customer #2: “I just want to know how much this is!”

Customer #1: “But I don’t work here! You’ll have to ask that man.” *referring to me*

Customer #2: “Why won’t you tell me how much this is?”

Me: *realising what has happened* “Madam, I’ll find out how much that is for you in just a moment, but you need to be on that side of the till. Customers aren’t allowed on this side.”

([Customer #2] moves over to the correct side of the till.)

Customer #2: “Your coworker is very rude!”

(I mouth an apology to [Customer #1] and do the price enquiry for [Customer #2] to get her out of the way. She leaves with the item and [Customer #1] and I just look at each other in a “Did that just happen?” way.)

Me: “I’m so sorry about that. I guess she saw your top and thought you were one of us, even though you were standing on the customer side with your shopping right in front of you!”

Customer #1: *laughing* “I thought so. But perhaps I won’t wear it here again.”