(I work as a cashier at a gas station. During my second week, a man comes in from the gym next door to order cigarettes and some alcohol. During the exchange, he tells me his name is Daddy in a way that makes me highly uncomfortable. He is a huge guy, very ripped, with a smirk that makes it clear he enjoys this exchange. I refuse to call men “Daddy” or play some weird power game with people.)

Me: “That’s Addy, you said? That’s a cool name. Would you like the pint or the half-pint?”

Regular: “It’s Daddy. Dah-Daddy.”

Me: “Okay, Addy.”

(He tells me the size he wants.)

Me: “I need to see some ID.”

(He shows me his ID. Shocker, his name isn’t Daddy.)

Me: “That will be $14.55. Have a nice night, Paul.”

Customer: “It’s Daddy.”

Me: “Okay. Please put in your PIN. I will need you to sign the receipt.”

(The customer gets his receipt.)

Customer: “Can I have someone help me out to the car?”

Me: “We don’t offer that service.”

(He leaves. My coworker comes up after and says:)

Coworker: “I can’t stand that guy.” 

(Apparently, “Daddy” likes to come in and act like he is King of the Crap-pile. He refers to a coworker who is short as “Midget.” He made me really uncomfortable. I didn’t feel like I could say anything to him, but I am not calling some strange dude Daddy. I don’t even call my own dad that.)

(I’m taking a basic lifeguarding class at a public pool. This is the only pool in the area that offers these classes, so the other students and I don’t know each other very well because we come from different towns. It is a mixed-gender class, and I am a man. We’re learning how to use the life hook — a lifeguarding tool that you slide under a drowning person’s body and use to pull them to the edge of the pool. It’s my turn to practice with the life hook, and the “drowning” person is a woman. I successfully hook her and pull her to the edge of the pool, and then help her climb out. When she gets out of the pool, she immediately storms into the pool manager’s office. About ten minutes later, the pool manager comes out and asks to speak with me. I head into his office, and my “drowning” classmate is sitting there.)

Pool Manager: “Can you tell me what happened between you and [Classmate] earlier today?”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Pool Manager: “[Classmate] tells me that you touched her butt multiple times today while she was in the pool. Is that true?”

Me: “What? Of course, it’s not true.”

Classmate: “Don’t lie! You know you grabbed my butt!”

Me: “I don’t know how I could have done anything like that. I don’t think we’ve even been within ten feet of each other besides the life hook practice.”

Classmate: “Exactly! You grabbed my butt with the hook!”

Pool Manager: “Wait a minute; what’s this about a hook?”

Me: “That’s what we’re learning about today. We were practicing using the life hook. [Classmate] was the one I was supposed to be rescuing.”

Pool Manager: “Wait, wait, wait. [Classmate], do you mean that he touched your butt with the hook while you were playing the drowning person?”

Classmate: “YES!”

Pool Manager: “Did he successfully pull you to the edge of the pool so you could climb out?”

Classmate: “Well, yeah, I guess.”

Pool Manager: “[Classmate]… that’s how the life hook works. You hook it underneath a person’s body so you can pull them to the edge of the pool.”

Classmate: “Well, he didn’t have to grab my butt to do it.”

Pool Manager: “[My Name], you’re free to head back to the class. [Classmate], please wait here for a minute while I talk to your instructors.”

(The next day, guess who we found out had been removed from the lifeguarding class?)

(I work in a chain bakery within a shopping centre. We are across from a supermarket and throughout the day a sales associate goes on “tastings,” essentially just standing in front of the shopfront offering free samples to people walking past. I am out on tastings when I am approached by an older man. I am eighteen and fresh out of high school.)

Random Guy: “Well, I suppose I’d better take one, then.”

Me: “Here you go, enjoy!”

Random Guy: “Hey, why did the baker go out of business? Because he ran out of dough!”

(Cue awkward laughter and a polite customer service smile.)

Random Guy: “Hey, can I buy you a drink?”

(This catches me totally off guard as this has never happened before, and I have no idea how to respond, so I just try to be polite.)

Me: *laughs* “No, thanks. I’ve got to do my work.”

Random Guy: “Don’t worry, I’ll get you a drink.”

(The dude walked away and I thought he was leaving, but he was back ten minutes later with what looked like a bottle of wine; it was a non-alcoholic drink from the supermarket next door. He gave it to me and I just thanked him and ran back inside as quickly as possible. I’m still not sure if he was a creep or just trying to be nice.)

(I am picking up some stuff for Christmas dinner with my family, looking like a cross between a college student and hipster, when a rather rude man approaches me.)

Rude Man: “Hey, hot momma, where you been hiding?”

Me: *instantly on guard* “Nowhere that concerns you. Excuse me, please.”

Rude Man: *doing his best to block my exit* “Where do you think you’re going? Here I am being a nice guy, and you just blow me off!”

Me: “I apologize; I am in a bit of a hurry and not feeling up to chatting with a strange man at the store. I need to get past you so I can check out and get home to my family. Please step aside, now.”

(I admit, the word “now” came out with more force than I intended. The man is over a foot taller than me, blocking me into a very small space, and causing me to feel very crowded. I have PTSD from some pretty nasty events I have experienced at work, and I dislike being blocked off, so my “work” personality is creeping out. As a brief backstory, I work in a maximum-security prison, but I do not look like it in any way when I am not at work. I purposely make sure I look feminine and am friendly when off-the-clock as it takes a toll to always be the tough guy. Unfortunately, that, coupled with the fact I look barely 18, makes me be underestimated by basically everyone. At this point, the man starts to puff up; he shifts his stance to be more aggressive and “intimidating.”)

Rude Man: *while leaning towards me* “You need to change your tone, little lady, or a man might have to step up and change it for you.”

Me: *internally sighing from frustration* “Bigger and scarier men than you have tried; you are not even fazing me at this point. Step aside, and let me get home to my family. I am not about to deal with this nonsense when I am off the clock.”

Rude Man: *clenching his fists and acting like he is about to either grab at me or swing* “I am not done talking to you yet!”

(He started to raise his voice and started swearing at me and threatening me. This allowed the clerk at the register nearby to realize that there was a person being blocked by this troll, and he and another male employee came over and helped to defuse the situation, allowing me to get to the register and out of the store. I promptly forgot about this man shortly after regaling my family with the story while popping some popcorn for our movie bash that night. What brings me to write this story now is that a few hours ago, I was processing some new intakes from our diagnostic facility and came across one with a 15- to 50-year sentence, recently convicted, and already with a staff-assault under his belt and pending in the court system, that looked oddly familiar. When I collected him from intake to restrain and escort him to our segregation unit, he got a deer-in-headlights look before saying, “S***, I f***** up now.” It was the guy from the store, and turns out he has a few assault charges now.)

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(This story takes place at around 10:00 am during my 8:00 am to 5:00 pm shift. A customer has just walked in the doors. I’m 17 years old and a part-time cashier, so I don’t normally work a morning shift.)

Me: “Hi, how are you today?”

Customer: “Hi, do you need a ride home today?”

Me: “Um, no.”

Customer: “Well, okay. I need help with hardware.”

(I send my manager back with the customer. I turn to my coworker.)

Coworker: “Do you know him?”

Me: “No, I’ve never seen him before.”

(My coworker decides to go out to the parking lot and take a look at the car windshields to see if any of the cars have any indication that they are Uber drivers because I have to take quite a few Ubers to and from work. She comes back in with no luck. The customer comes back up a few minutes later and since I’m with another customer, he walks to my coworker’s register. As he’s leaving, the customer turns to me.)

Customer: “I’m keeping my eyes on you.”

(I’ve told my two managers, but I haven’t seen the customer since. Needless to say, I always have pepper spray on me now, just in case.)