(I’m sitting in the break room having a drink of water when one of the teenagers from the dairy department walks in.)

Teenager: “Again! You always drink water!”

Me: “…”

Teenager: “Don’t you know how to drink soda?”

Me: “I don’t imagine the required skill set differs greatly from that of drinking water.”

(All the stores in my chain have been made “no-smoking places,” meaning employees are not allowed to smoke during their breaks or during working time. One day when my shift is over, I am walking to the parking lot towards my car and smoking a cig.)

Woman: “You are not allowed to smoke!”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Woman: *getting quite angry* “YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO SMOKE!”

Me: “Says who?”

Woman: “Employees are not allowed to smoke at this place!”

Me: “Yeah, we are not allowed to smoke during our workday.”

Woman: “Put it out, now! I don’t want my kids to smell that awful smoke!”

(The woman drags her kids with her. They are good nine feet away and the wind is blowing to my direction.)

Me: “Then why did you even bring them here?”

Woman: “Put it out, now!”

(She manages to grab my cigarette and throws it to the ground. At the same time, the store manager is also leaving, and the woman calls her to talk with us.)

Woman: “You need to fire this guy, or at least give him a warning!”

Manager: “Why?”

Woman: “He was smoking here, and employees are not allowed to do that!”

Manager: “Is your shift over?”

Me: “Yes.”

Manager: “Then there is no problem! He can destroy his lungs if he wants to, but only during his free-time!”

(I lit another cig, jumped in my car, and left. The woman looked like she wanted to feed me to hungry bears. The next day, the manager told me that woman insisted that I must be fired and said she would give our executives a call about this. Nothing happened.)

(It’s just after eight am and a slovenly man walks into the shop where I work and asks for a large bottle of vodka that is kept behind the counter. It is illegal in this country to sell alcohol before ten am.)

Coworker: “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t sell you this before ten o’clock.”

Customer: “What?”

Coworker: *points at clock* “We cannot sell alcohol before ten.”

Customer: *suddenly angry* “But I want it.”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t sell you this until ten.”

Customer: “I can’t wait until ten; I’m getting the bus in five minutes.”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, sir, but I could be fined up to £5,000 for selling this before the allowed time, and our shop could lose its licence.”

Customer: “I won’t tell anyone.”

Coworker: “That isn’t the issue, sir. It is illegal, and I won’t sell you the alcohol. Our tills won’t even allow them to be scanned before ten o’clock, either, so I cannot process the transaction, even if it weren’t against the law.”

Customer: *irritated* “What if I just leave you the money and you can put it through later?”

Coworker: “That is still an illegal sale and can result in me losing my job.”

Customer: *leans over counter* “I don’t f****** care if it’s illegal; give me the drink or I will f****** stab you!”

(At this point, I am now afraid for the safety of my coworker and I’ve grabbed the phone to call the police. My coworker on the other hand is unfazed, and merely crosses his arms over his chest.)

Coworker: “Well I’m not selling you it. So I guess you’ll just have to stab me.”

Customer: *flustered and red in the face* “Fine!” *leaves the store*

(I ran to the window and, after checking the number of the bus he was getting on, I called the police. He was apprehended by the police twenty minutes later at the next bus stop.)

(I’ve been working at a grocery store for a few months with a manager who is, frankly, a miserable human being. He’s aggressively rude, blunt in all the wrong ways, and quick to lambaste you for minor mistakes and ride you on them for weeks. And, unfortunately, upper management is terrified of doing anything to him because he’s openly, flamboyantly gay and cries discrimination and homophobia the second someone so much as criticizes him. After finally having enough, I’ve decided to quit and decide to let him — the main reason for it — know exactly what I think about him.)

Manager: “Hey, [My Name], I heard you’re ending your employment with us. That’s a shame. Is there any reason in particular?”

Me: “Well… It’s a coworker issue, mostly.”

(He shoots me this toothy smile like he knows I’m about to say something he can twist. Not wanting to give him even a shadow of a chance of playing this game with me, I cut in.)

Me: “Let me tell you something about myself. I’m in a romantic situation that would make churches in this area try to exorcise us: I’m in a polyamorous relationship with three other people, including a trans-woman and another man. I’m so comfortable in my pansexuality I make you look straight; I’ve just never dared use it as an excuse for abusing people and getting away with it. I’m quitting because you’re an abusive creep of a manager and absolute scum of humanity; it has nothing to do with you being gay, or camp, or whatever. You’re just an a**hole.”

(At that, I flick my name-tag onto the table and toss my company vest off, while he and the rest of the office stand there, too stunned to respond.)

Me: “By the way, last night when he came in, I told your husband I saw you kissing [Coworker] a week ago. I heard you say you wondered why he went to his parents’ and didn’t call you last night; there you go.”

(I left just in time to hear him process what just happened and start freaking out. To his credit, though, a coworker I kept in touch with told me I humbled him pretty badly — even if I ruined his marriage — and he has started taking criticism on how to be a better person.)

(I’m a 20-something female produce employee, stocking the bagged salads on our cooler wall. I spot an older gentleman, [Customer #1], looking a bit confusedly at the cut fruit next to me.)

Me: “Hi, can I help you find anything today?”

Custom *frowns at me* “Where’s the kale?”

Me: “Well, we have some right down to your right on the wall. I can show you—”

Customer #1: *cuts me off* “No, I don’t want to buy any; I just want to know where it is.”

Me: “Well, then. Um. That’s where it is. Oh! We also have baby kale right here.” *picks up a package of pre-washed baby kale from the box I was stocking*

Customer #1: *abruptly* “Can I have that?”

Me: “Oh, sure!” *begins to put it into his cart, as he makes no move to take it out of my hand*

Customer #1: “No, no, I meant, can I have some of that? I want to try it.”

Me: “Right, of course! No problem! Let me just open it up and—”

Customer #1: *cuts me off again* “Why are you still talking to me? Go away. I don’t talk to ugly girls.”

(I’m so shocked by this I just turn to walk away without responding. [Customer #2], a woman in her early 30s, has clearly overheard the whole exchange, and as I turn and walk away she meets my eyes and gives me the most incredulous and horrified look.)

Customer #2: “Oh, my God! I can’t believe he said that to you! What an a**hole! Can I hug you?”

([Customer #2] gave me a hug, which really did make the whole incident much better.)