(I am attending the county fair, and I go to use the women’s bathroom. There is only one handicapped stall, and a polite woman using a wheelchair is waiting to use it. She even moves her chair to make sure I can get into an empty stall. Once I am done, she is still waiting, and I notice she is squirming a lot in her chair. I work with disabled individuals, and I know that those with mobility issues, especially those who are paralyzed, can have little to no control over their bladders.)

Me: “Are you all right?”

Woman In Chair: “Yes, it’s just… I’ve been waiting about ten minutes, and it’s getting harder and harder.”

Me: *I knock on the stall door* “Excuse me, are you all right?”

Woman In Stall: “See? I told you to hurry up; people are waiting! We are not leaving this stall until you go potty!”

Child: *also in stall* “I don’t have to go! I told you already!”

Woman In Stall: “I don’t care! We’re not leaving!”

Me: “Ma’am? I’m sorry, but there are people waiting to use this stall.”

Woman In Stall: “We’re in here!”

Woman In Chair: “I can wait, I think. I’m trying.” *squirms more* “Really, I don’t like to cause a scene.”

Me: *to the woman in the stall* “Ma’am, that is the only stall large enough for anyone with a wheelchair to use; you need to move so others can use it.”

Woman In Stall: “I have my daughter with me!”

Child: “I don’t have to go!”

(This goes around for about three minutes. The mother keeps yelling at her daughter to go potty, the daughter says she doesn’t have to, and I try my hardest to figure out how to get a woman who cannot walk at all into a stall that isn’t large enough for her wheelchair. It’s not happening, at all. Even the larger stalls all have tiny doors. The woman in her wheelchair is actually tearing up.)

Woman In Chair: “This is my anniversary trip. I don’t have any spare clothes, or another seat cushion, and I just can’t… I can’t wait.”

Me: *bangs on the stall door*

Woman In Stall: “FINE!”

(She comes out of the stall, revealing that her daughter has to be close to seven years old. They leave, and I move out of the way so the woman in the chair can get in. As I move, an eleven-year-old girl walks over and actually steps over the foot pedals of the woman in the wheelchair!)

Me: “Hey! Wait your turn, please.”

Woman In Chair: “Excuse me. I was next; I’ve been waiting.”

Girl: *stares straight at the woman in the wheelchair as she shoves the door shut and locks it, literally having to push the woman back to do so*

Woman In Chair: *crying* “Please! Please! I can’t hold it any longer. Every other stall is free! Please!”

(The girl ignores us, and a woman comes in and walks straight past us and to the handicapped stall. She begins talking to her daughter through the stall.)

Me: “Ma’am, your daughter pushed this woman aside, who has been waiting!”

Mother: “Oops, sorry about that.” *continues talking to her daughter, notices that the woman in the wheelchair is crying* “[Child], this is actually a very good lesson for you. Look how upset this woman is getting over a bathroom stall. That is ridiculous! You did nothing wrong; it’s stupid to get upset over a stall.”

Me: “Wow! I’d be more upset over the fact you and your daughter are b****es.”

(The mother throws a literal tantrum. Her daughter comes out, and the mother then refuses to move, standing in front of the handicapped stall and trying to get other women in the bathroom to side with her, repeatedly saying, “I don’t have to move if I don’t want to; am I right?” Finally, a woman who has been doing her makeup at the sink turns around and stares the mother down.)

Makeup Woman: “If I were you, I would be beyond embarrassed. First for your daughter’s obvious lack of manners, and then for your own. If you were one of my employees, or if my daughters acted even close to how yours has, I’d be appalled. You are at a community event, and you are a parent. Act like an adult.” *looks at the girl* “As for you, I hope that you do not grow up to act like you are acting now, or how your mother is, because I can assure you it is a mistake.”

(The mother grabbed her daughter’s unwashed hand and stormed out, a bunch of us laughing at her as she did so.)

(My Girl Scout troop is having a table at a craft show, selling sweets and fire starters. We also have a dip mix for sale. At the same time, we have a bowl of dip at the very back of the table, behind a sign, that we are eating from. It is clear that it is not a sample for the dip that we’re selling, and we’re eating the pretzels right out of the bag. We’re all about 17 now.)

Lady: *points to fire starters* “How do you eat these?”

Fellow Troop Member: “Those are fire starters. You can’t eat them. You just light them and put them in a fireplace or campfire.”

Lady: “Oh, well, I never go camping! Hey, what’s this?”

(The lady proceeds to reach over the sign, take multiple pretzels sticks from the bag, and take a large portion of dip out of the bowl we’re eating from.)

Me: “Um, that’s not a sample. Many of us have not had lunch yet, so we have something here to eat.”

Lady: “But you’re selling the dip right here!”

Me: “Yes, but it’s not the same kind. This is [Flavor #1], and what we’re selling is [Flavor #2].”

Lady: “Oh, well, it looked like a sample!”

Me: *sighs and turns to others after she leaves* “I can’t wait until my ride gets here so I can leave. I am so done with people.”

(At a fair, my company is handing out free samples of our food product. We have to cook some sausage on a fryer and cut it up, then offer it to passersby. A young man in his 20s wearing an impeccable tuxedo approaches.)

Me: “Hello, would you like a free sample?”

Man: *grabs one* “…” *stuffs into mouth, and walks off*

(A little later, I sense someone behind me, so I turn.)

Me: “Hello, would you like—”

(It’s the same man again! Before I can recover, he grabs another one, stuffs it in his mouth, and walks off.)

Coworker: “Yeah, it’s okay if people want more. Just make some more. We have it.”

(So I make some more and a few hours later, the fair is winding down. Only a few passersby remain. And the same man approaches!)

Me: “Hell–”

(I stopped myself and he stared at me mischievously. Then, snake fast, he grabbed the remaining samples and stuffed them in his mouth, and walked off! Later, I learned that he was working for another company, our competition! What a strange guy. All he had to do was ask.)

(My sister, cousin, and I go to the annual agricultural show for our area. I am 21, sister is 18, and cousin is 15. The children’s ticket price is for under 16 years old. We each buy our own ticket and as we walk away from the ticket booth our cousin realises she’s been sold an adult ticket so she goes back to the booth.)

Cousin: “Uh, excuse me. I thought I asked for a child’s ticket.”

Ticket Seller: *looks her up and down* “I need to see ID.”

(She hands over her student ID and gets her child’s ticket. We head into the show and sister stops to put her change away.)

Sister: “How much were tickets again? I think I got too much change… Oh, look, I got charged for a child’s ticket.” *she looks young*

Cousin: “Yeah, figures I get ID’d to get my ticket and you don’t. What did you ask for?”

Sister: “I just said ‘one, please.’”

(Later on we stop at a wine tasting. I decide to taste a couple of wines. The guy serving them gives me one. My sister walks up with her hand out. Legal drinking age is 18.)

Guy: “Yeah, nice try.” *tries handing a wine to our cousin*

Cousin: “No, thanks. I’m 15.” *as we are walking away, to Sister* “Sucker! That’s what you get for pretending you are a child.”

(I was waiting in line to get some French fries while at a Renaissance Faire and the guy ahead of me in line is being condescending to the girl taking his order.)

Customer: “Honey, this shouldn’t be taking all day; do the people back there need me to show them how to use a deep fryer?”

Employee: “They’ll be ready soon. They’re constantly making new ones so it doesn’t take too long.”

Customer: “Well, it’s already been taking too long, so what are you going to do about it?”

Employee: “There’s really nothing I can do to speed it up. When they’re done you’ll get them.”

(The customer then walks over to the next counter, grumbling the whole time. I walk up and place my order, which coincidentally I had been waiting to do for as long as the guy had been waiting for his fries. After paying, I went and stood next to the other customer and waited for our orders.)

Customer: “Jesus, can you believe this s***? It shouldn’t take so god-d*** long!”

Employee: “Okay, they’re ready!” *brings out two plates of fries and places them on the counter*

Customer: “Thanks. You gonna put ketchup on ’em for me or do I have to wait another ten minutes for that, too?”

(She sighs because she is so obviously done with dealing with this guy and reaches in front of me, grabs the ketchup bottle, and squirts a bunch on his fries. Then she walks away and takes another customer’s order.)

Customer: *to me* “Christ, did you see the stupid look she gave me? It’s just putting ketchup on some fries. It’s not like it’s rocket surgery or something.”

Me: “Well, it seemed to be too hard for you to understand, so props to her. Hope that rocket surgery goes well for you.”