(My girlfriend and I decide to check out a higher-priced lingerie store, hoping they carry something we’ll like. We are both in our twenties, but never mention that we are together, so the employee might have assumed I’m just a friend, not necessarily her boyfriend.)

Employee: “Hi there. Are you looking for something in particular?”

Me: “Hi. We just wanted to look around, but we’re interested in regular bras. The type that isn’t lacy, just plain and hopefully with some kind of pattern or in some fancy color.”

Employee: “Um… I’m afraid we don’t really have this kind of bra. Why don’t you like lacy ones?”

Girlfriend: “Well, it’s just a preference. I like the non-lacy ones more.”

Me: “Me, too.”

(Some discussion and product examples later:)

Employee: “But, you know, the lacy ones are sexy and feminine. You would want to stay new and interesting for men.”

(We look at each other and I laugh nervously.)

Me: “Yeah. I guess we’re out of luck here. Thanks and bye.”

(This woman, herself in her twenties, could have come straight out of a 1950s-style commercial. My girlfriend and I still joke about it, like her saying, “But I want to stay interesting for men,” when she likes some new clothing item.)

(My twins got into Kindergarten this summer, and they have a support club of parents raising extra money for the place. This ranges from selling cakes to encouraging sponsors to give something for certain events. Around Christmas, the town has stands reserved at the Christmas market that get used by all the different places and organisations who want to sell stuff to make money. The parents are encouraged to make cookies, jam, decorations, and such stuff to sell, and they need people to man the stand in two-hour shifts over the day. I am an avid baker, so I make a batch of very tasty gingerbread cakes and package them to sell, and volunteer for the six- to eight-pm shift. I encourage the Club to use a pay-what-you-want system this year, so instead of, say 50 cents for a little bag of homemade cookies, people are encouraged to just give a donation as they see fit. People love that, it seems, and when I get there, the stand is rather bare already. We still keep selling stuff. I go around to the nearby mulled wine sellers and offer cookies to people and tell them to come over and get some. After that, I am in the hut selling stuff, and so many people are like, “For the Kindergarten? Of course! Have 5€ for them!” and only take a couple of bags of cookies. But, of course, some people are just impossible. There is an older woman hovering over the free-sample dish we have. Her clothes are rather fancy, so she’s not likely a poor person by the look of her jewellery alone.)

Me: “Please, help yourself! These are made by the parents of [Kindergarten].”

Lady: “Oh, thanks! Don’t mind if I do!”

(She takes a cookie, exclaims it’s delicious, and takes another.)

Me: “I’m glad you like them! You are welcome to take a bag or two home if you want! Just give a little donation and the kiddies will thank you, as well.”

Lady: “No, absolutely not! I have no money at all.”

Me: “Well, you can give what you want, so you could just take a bag and give some small change. Like, 10 cents would be fine. Every little bit helps.”

Lady: “No, that is impossible; I have no money.”

(She takes two more sample cookies and eats them.)

Me: “Well, if you are that poor, here!”

(I give her a bag of some stuff; we have lots left over and will not sell out, anyway.)

Lady: “What? Is this free?”

Me: “Yes. Consider it a Christmas gift from the kids at [Kindergarten]. Nobody should be so completely out of money they can’t have cookies at Christmas.”

(She thanks me profoundly and goes off. The other people buying stuff make good for her at least thrice, exclaiming how nice that was and grumbling about cheap people. About 20 minutes later, I see a lady hovering over the sample dish again. I invite her to help herself, then spot the earrings again. She has taken off her hat and scarf, but I recognise it’s the lady from before.)

Lady: “Oh, can I take one for free?”

Me: “Yeah, sure. Take a free sample.”

Lady: “Can I get one of the bags, please? They are free, as well, right?”

Me: “No, the bags are not free. But you can donate whatever you see fit.”

Lady: “Oh, but I have no money at all. Can’t you give me one for free?”

Me: “I’m sorry, no. We want to raise money for the kids at [Kindergarten]. And still, if you have 10 cents it would be enough if you think it’s enough to give to the children.”

Lady: “But you gave away the bags earlier; I saw it! Why won’t you give me one?”

Me: “Because I know you are the only person I’ve given one to all evening, and nobody else so cheap came here after you. Please enjoy the free cookies you got earlier, but if you want more, please donate at least something.”

(She then slunk off and that was the end of it. The vast majority of the people were great, but there are some that will never get into the spirit of giving, only taking.)

(I’m shopping for groceries in a supermarket near home. While waiting in line, I overhear two cashiers talking to each other about misbehaving customers.)

Cashier #1: “I had a mother wanting to buy a banana that had already been eaten! I told her that I couldn’t add that to her purchase just like that; I’d have to weigh it. She said her son had eaten it and he was only a few months old, and why shouldn’t he have eaten it; he’s just a child! Mind you, he actually looked quite a bit older, and anyway, I don’t see why he couldn’t wait. I told her she would have to get a banana from the fruit section so I could weigh that one, instead. But seriously, why couldn’t she just have had him wait some three minutes?!”

Cashier #2: “I know what you mean; that happened to me, as well! I also asked them to get a banana that I could weigh, instead.”

Cashier #1: “Why can’t people just wait? I don’t mind it that much if it’s chocolate; at least you can still scan the packaging. But, you know, my mother would never have allowed me to eat something before it’s been purchased! She would have told me that she’d need to buy it first! Why do people let their children do that?”

Cashier #2: “I had something even stranger happen. Once, a customer wanted to buy three separate rolls of toilet paper!”

Cashier #1: “What, removed from the packaging?”

Cashier #2: “Yes! Just three separate rolls. He said he only needed those three and didn’t want to buy more.”

Cashier #1: “Why would you even do that? Sooner or later you’d be out of toilet paper and need more, wouldn’t you? Who on earth has no use for more than three rolls?”

Cashier #2: “I don’t know! I told him he’d have to buy an entire package of toilet paper or none at all. I don’t know where he got the idea!”

(I left the store somewhat confused — with the cashiers on that one. What kind of person needs JUST three rolls so desperately that they open a package in the store for that? And what kind of person wants toilet paper that’s touched a conveyor belt?)

(I am a regular at a local sewing store where I’m also taking classes. One day I drop by to get fabric and decided to bring my dog, since my mum and I have to go there by car, anyway, and my dog is still kind of anxious about driving after a recent bad experience. When I bring her into the shop, this happens.)

Owner: “Oh, I’m sorry; you can’t bring your dog in here. My husband is really allergic to them.”

Me: “Sorry, I didn’t know that.”

Mum: “I’ll just take her out and wait in the car with her.”

Owner: “I’m really sorry. It’s not that I don’t like dogs. I love dogs, and yours looks really cute, but my husband swells up and can’t breathe when he’s near dog hair, and…”

Me: “Really, it’s no problem. She can use the time in the car, anyway.”

(We go on to discuss fabric choices for my project, and she helps me personally, since only one other customer is in the store who is already being helped by one of the employees. When we move closer to them to look at some belt straps, the owner notices that in a bag on the floor is a tiny dog, even smaller than mine.)

Owner: “Excuse me. I didn’t notice it before, but dogs are not allowed in this store. Please leave your dog outside.”

Customer: *in a tone so rude I can’t possibly portray it in writing* “It’s none of your business. He’s in a bag.” *turns back around to the employee*

Owner: “My husband is extremely allergic to dogs, so I have to ask you, again, to please take your dog outside, as I can’t have him in the store.”

Customer: “And where am I supposed to put him? My car? He’d just destroy it. No. I’m keeping him with me, in here.”

(The dog in question is a chihuahua in a closed bag, on a leash that ties him to said bag. He couldn’t possibly get out of there.)

Owner: “I frankly don’t care where you put your dog, as long as he’s not in my store. Please get him out of here now.”

Customer: “No. I won’t. And if you make me, you’ll lose me as a customer.”

Owner: “I don’t want you as a customer if you don’t take your dog outside right now!”

Customer: “I won’t.”

(With that, she turns back to the employee, who obviously doesn’t know how to deal with that and is extremely uncomfortable, but resumes helping the entitled woman with choosing some buttons. The owner is obviously furious but doesn’t know what else to do. I’m furious, too; the tone and general attitude of the customer are so rude, and to such a nice person, that I basically feel ashamed to belong to the same species as that person. After taking a deep breath and contemplating, I decide to step in.)

Me: *in a calm but incredibly icy tone, with my best menacing stare* “Excuse me.”

Customer: “What?”

Me: “I just took my dog outside to wait in the car, too. You have been asked repeatedly to remove your dog from this store. It is not okay to endanger the health of a human being just so your dog won’t have to spend ten minutes alone in a car. Do you really believe that the fifteen Euros you’re spending here are more important to [Owner] than her husband’s health? Pull yourself together, get rid of that attitude, and get your dog outside right now.”

Customer: “FINE! I will buy my buttons here, and then I will never come back! You’ve just lost a customer for life!”

Me: “Thank God. I wouldn’t like to encounter the likes of you in here ever again.”

(I work at a supermarket that only offers organic products. We have regular automatic sliding doors. I am ringing up customers when I hear someone entering, and immediately after this a child, maybe around two years old, starts to cry. I turned to see what’s wrong as a woman dashes into the store, holding her crying child and giving me a death glare. Even before I can even ask what happened, she starts yelling at me.)

Woman: “My son’s hand got stuck in that stupid door!”

Me: “Well, that’s unfortunate. Will he be all right?”

Woman: “Of course not! I bet it’s going to swell!”

(I already am puzzled at how it would be humanly possible to get your hand into that tiny slit at the side of the door, but I know that she is going to blame me for whatever happened. I apologetically look at the customer I was ringing up.)

Me: “Would you excuse me for a second? I need to get something to cool his hand.”

(Luckily, they are very understanding and I hastily get up, leaving the already insane amount of customers in the line to wait. Luckily, a coworker hears me talking and goes to get a cool pack before I can. I get back to what I was doing before, to see that this woman has already snatched a popsicle out of the freezer next to the registers to cool the kid’s hand. He seems to be better now; he’s stopped crying, and looks around as my coworker hands them the cool pack.)

Woman: “That was about time!”

(She then snatched it out of my coworker’s hand but continued to cool her son’s hand with the popsicle. My coworker gave me an annoyed look. Just a few minutes later the woman rushed out of the store and I saw her son eating the popsicle; she never paid for it. A few days later the same coworker told me that she came back the day after to complain about me to our manager. I “never apologized” to her and acted completely rude. What should I have apologized for? For her not telling her kid to not stick his hands everywhere they fit? Luckily our manager took my side and I never saw her again.)