CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

I am an elementary school teacher working with kids aged four to six. My husband graduated as a chemical scientist but never worked in the field. He never lost his inquisitive nature. One day, I come home with food dyes. My husband reads the package and goes all “oh” and “hmm” with every E-number and the likes.

Husband: “Wait, they added [ingredient]? How can this be purple, then?”

Me: “I don’t know. The package says it is.”

Husband: “Let’s see how purple this gets.”

The package says one drop is enough for a deep purple, so people should add one drop at a time. My husband adds one drop to a glass of water and, indeed, it is very deep purple.

Me: “Well, that’s purple, all right.”

Husband: “Yes, I never thought that. I wonder what it tastes like?”

Me: “I don’t think they added flavour.”

Husband: “You know what? I’m going to taste it.”

Me: “Wait, that’s a lot of pure food dye. Are you sure? I mean, they say kids get really hyper from this sort of stuff.”

Husband: “Look, there are several studies that say there is no connection between food dye and hyperactivity of children. That’s an old wives’ tale. Besides, I’m thirty-three; I’m a lot bigger than a kid.”

My husband tastes the drink and it tastes like… water. So, he empties the glass and goes about his business. About half an hour later, he complains that he can’t focus and he’s talking very fast. He describes it as having an urge to run around and even scream. He flops on the couch, turns on the TV, zaps through the channels, turns it off again, and goes around the house, agitated.

Me: “Eh, are you all right?”

Husband: “Argh! What are those horses doing in my mind?!”

Me: “I’m sorry to say this, sweetie, but you’re acting like a hyperactive four-year-old. Are you sure you are okay?”

My husband becomes silent and leaves. About ten minutes later, he crashes back onto the couch, completely exhausted, and his mind has finally calmed down. 

Husband: “Forget what those studies say. Our future child will never have chemical food colourings!”

I pick up the phone to call a client and hit myself on the cheekbone.

Me: “I just hit myself in the face with the phone.”

Coworker: “That’s what you get for pushing its buttons!”

I am part of a group that does volunteer work. We had an event coming up, and for the first time, I was calling members to ask them to help out. It went really well until I tried to call this one guy. A woman picks up the phone.

Woman: “Hello?”

Me: “Hi. I am [My Name] from [Volunteer Group]. May I please speak with [Man]?”

Woman: “What?”

Me: *Slightly louder* “Umm, hello! I am [My Name] from [Volunteer Group]. May I please speak with [Man]?”

Woman: *Calling out LOUDLY* “[Man]! Someone’s on the phone for you!”

Man: *Distant but still loud* “WHAT?!”

Woman: “Someone’s on the phone!”

Man: “WHAT?!”

Woman: “THE PHONE!”

Man: “WHO IS IT?”

Woman: “It’s someone from [Volunteer Group]!”

Man: “WHAT?!”

Woman: “PUT YOUR HEARING AIDS IN!”

Man: “THEY ARE IN! WHAT IS IT?”

Woman: “Come answer the phone!”

Man: “WHAT?!”

They went back and forth like this for several more minutes, getting louder and louder, arguing among other things about HER needing hearing aids, too. I finally just gave up and moved on to the next volunteer.

I mentioned this at our next meeting and everyone acknowledged this couple are both quite hard of hearing and don’t like to admit it.

One evening, I’m returning items from the front to their shelves when I pass by sewing notions and am stopped by an older woman. As a note, I’ve been blessed with — or cursed with, depending on your perspective — large breasts.

Customer: “Excuse me. Can you help me with something?”

Me: “Oh, yeah, absolutely! What did you need help with?”

Customer: “I’m altering a dress for my granddaughter, but she doesn’t really have a lot going on up top.”

She places her hands over her own breasts to make it clear I know what she means.

Customer: “So, I know I have to use some kind of insert, but I’m not sure which to use. What do you recommend?”

I look down at my own chest and then look back up.

Me: “Ma’am, I’ve never had to worry about that, but—”

She looks down at my chest while I start speaking and then cuts me off before I can finish my offer to ask a coworker for her.

Customer: *Cutting me off* “Oh! I’m sorry! I’ll go ask someone flatter!”

She wandered off without giving me a chance to say anything else.

I used to work for a Christian retailer for many years, and whoo-boy, could I tell some stories. This one sticks in my mind, however.

One of my coworkers, a young unmarried female, fell pregnant — a bit of a no-no to our customer base. To assist her, she was retrained for a different department which had limited contact with the shop floor. One day, however, she needed to get something from the counter and a female customer spotted her.

Immediately, the customer exclaimed:

Customer: “Oh, you’re pregnant! That’s so exciting! Your husband must be so pleased.”

I could see my coworker have a mini internal struggle as to whether she should lie or tell the truth. She chose the latter and advised the customer that she was not married.

The customer’s countenance immediately changed and she began raging about sin and how terrible this girl was, etc. I bee-lined over right away and politely asked my coworker, now close to tears, to please pop out back for a moment as the manager was looking for her.

As soon as she left, I whirled on the customer and let fly.

Me: “How dare you judge that girl! You have no idea the circumstances surrounding her pregnancy! She may have been raped for all you know! Or divorced. Or any number of things. You have no right to judge her whatsoever.”

I let fly for a few more moments before the customer, who at least now looked properly chastened, left the store.

As soon as she left, my manager popped out from the next aisle, having heard the whole thing.

Manager: “You know, I technically should reprimand you for speaking to a customer like that.” *Pauses* “I won’t, though. Well done.”

We never saw that customer again.