My family and I were living in a beach town, all of us adults. I’m trans male or non-binary (AFAB). I’m very modest; I’m not into wearing bikinis, not because I’m chubby but because I don’t want my crotch and t*ts out.

For my birthday, I was given a gift certificate for $300 to a fancy swimsuit boutique. My oldest sister took me since I couldn’t easily get there without a car.

Sister: “Look at these!” *Holds up string bikini bottoms* “I wear the same ones! We could match.”

Me: “How big do those go? You have a much smaller butt than me.”

Sister: “Oh, I don’t know, but there are strings, so it’s adjustable.”

I turned to the owner, who knew my sister.

Me: “What size bottoms does [Sister] wear?”

Owner: “Large. But I have an extra large.”

I looked at this tiny, short, skinny woman and wondered what she thought was large. She was the owner, designer, and seamstress.

I tried on the strip of fabric. (I was wearing a thong under for sanitary reasons.)

Me: “I don’t want to show you both how this looks. It is way too small.”

Sister: “Don’t be silly. We are all women here!”

I sighed and opened the fitting room curtain.

Owner: “That looks fine! The strings were long enough—”

I silently turned around; the whole upper half of my butt was exposed.

Sister: “Well, clearly you just need thong bottoms!”

Me: “No.”

Owner: “Oh, you just need to pull it up.” *Yanks the thing up into my buttcrack*

Me: “Most people in this town are closer to my size… Would you consider making larger options, and I could come back?”

Sister: “Don’t be rude!”

I’m average to small on top, but I still had trouble. And the stuff was so expensive that the certificate only bought me like four outfits.

I had to be passive for family dynamic reasons; I’m not normally such a pushover.

My family then pressured, shamed, and cajoled me into wearing these humiliating outfits, also requiring that I shave, which is hard for sensory reasons. Normally, I would go to the beach in leggings and a long-sleeved shirt.

The funniest part is that this isn’t even the reason I live on the other side of the planet from them now and don’t talk to them.

I’ve since learned that nothing is worth putting up with people who disrespect my body and identity so blatantly. If a situation will destroy my mental health, it’s unlikely any good will come of it. Trying to pretend to be what others want, especially with changing and unreasonable expectations, will destroy me. I can’t just grin and bear that forever.

If you have some people dictating who you are allowed to be, ask yourself why you are there, and if it’s worth it.

I am a doctor in a hospital. At around 5:00 in the evening, we got a call that Code Black had been announced in the hospital. This meant that a mass casualty had occurred and the patients were being sent our way. Two buses had collided with each other; some patients were mildly injured, but some of them had serious injuries.

Around that time, a mother had brought her son to the hospital to consult into emergency because her son was having a minor stomachache and was refusing to eat food. I personally went to talk to her.

Me: “Ma’am, a large number of patients are coming here with trauma due to an accident. We’ll help them first to avoid fatalities. You and your son can either wait in the hall or go to the department of medicine and someone will attend you there.”

She started to make a fuss.

Woman: “You’re refusing to do your duty! You’re here just to trouble the patients!”

At the same time, the first two ambulances arrived, and both of the patients were injured badly. On seeing that, the security guards had to clear the entrance to the emergency room, and they asked the woman to move aside. When she refused to do so, they called a female guard, and she helped push the woman and her son aside. She started to scream like a banshee.

Woman: “You assaulted me! You assaulted my son and me! I’m going to call the police and file charges against you for harassment!”

We ignored her shouting and screaming.

We took the ambulance patients inside and gave their wounds support to stop the bleeding enough that they could be taken into the surgery room to locate the wounds, completely stop the bleeding, and check for any further damage.

The woman came back into the ER with her son, and of course, we were there and there was blood around the floor.

Woman: *Shouting* “You’re going to give us infections and make us sick with all this blood!”

We again had to ask the guards to escort her out as the ambulances with other, less injured patients had started to come in. We were tending to those patients when the woman tried to stop the entry of a patient who was not very injured but needed a full examination.

Woman: “This patient is fine! My baby needs treatment first!”

Remember, we had already told her to go to the other department, but she did not want to walk even a small distance to have her baby evaluated and treated.

This time, she actually called the police and tried to pester us again. One of my fellow doctors approached the police and told them about the whole scenario. They already knew that we were treating the patients. The woman had told them that we had refused to take in any patients and were making them wait outside.

At the end, the policemen took the woman outside, gave her a nice earful of some well-deserved strong words, and slapped her with a nice hefty fine. She was banned from the hospital for two weeks.

Later, we did treat her son, and it all turned out to be a sham. The whole problem was that the child did not get the food he had demanded, so he made a fuss about it.

On the brighter side, all of the patients from the accident were completely treated, and today, the last patient was discharged from the wards. They are all doing perfectly fine.

Some people really have the audacity to be such idiots in emergency scenarios for nothing but attention and drama.

I work in a restaurant and bar. Some angry customers stop to yell at me as they’re leaving.

Customers: “We have to go to the emergency room because of a shellfish allergy! Why didn’t you tell us the crab artichoke dip had crab in it?!”

That’s the same dip they ordered by saying the full name.

Sometimes, I wonder about people.

My job banned employees from keeping drinks with them. It was for everybody, too: cashiers, back room, stock, floor, etc. But after some of us threatened to call OSHA on them, since we needed access to at least water, they finally said, “Okay, fine. You can all have water, but ONLY water, no other drinks, and especially not soda!” Their concern was that stuff like soda would damage items if spilled, and hey, that part is fair.

My coworker kept bringing Gatorade to the register with her.

Me: “They said water, not Gatorade. They’re going to yell at you for having that.”

Coworker: “Oh, I don’t drink water, so this is fine!”

Needless to say, other people started bringing in soda, Gatorade, and other non-water drinks, so they banned drinks again.

Bosses: “You can get water whenever you want. You just have to keep it in the break room. We’re not breaking OSHA rules.”

However, the front-line manager was insane, so cashiers could never leave to get water. It was a struggle to even escape her to run to the bathroom; she would purposefully try to block you from leaving.

Paired with the fact that the air conditioning system barely worked — plus there was no AC by the registers — we were super dehydrated and cooked alive every summer.

I have just been promoted to assistant store manager of the small pharmacy where I work. This is when companies are coming out with various home tests for [certain respiratory illness], but before insurance companies start paying for them up front. If you want to get reimbursed, you have to keep your receipt and turn it over to your insurance company.

It’s an hour before we close, and I’m closing drawers for the night when my cashier calls me to the front.

Me: “Hi, I’m the assistant store manager. What can I help you with?”

Customer: “No, I want to talk to the store manager!”

Our store manager has taken a week off for her brother’s wedding.

Me: “Ma’am, our store manager is out for another few days, but I am more than willing to help you with whatever you need.”

Customer: *Grumbling* “Fine! I bought these home tests here, but when I called my insurance company, they said I never should have paid for them because insurance pays for them now, so I want my money back!”

I stare pretty stupidly for several seconds, knowing this isn’t going to be a fun conversation.

Me: “Ma’am, I apologize, but due to certain health reasons, the tests are non-refundable.”

Customer: “But I have my receipt! I want my money back!”

Me: *Reading the receipt* “Unfortunately, even if these items were refundable, you purchased these items three months ago. Our return policy is sixty days. But again, it is a serious health violation to try to return these tests.”

Customer: “I DON’T WANT TO RETURN THEM! I JUST WANT MY MONEY BACK!”

Me: *Staring at my cashier in disbelief* “You… want to take home your money… and the tests?”

Customer: “This is why I wanted the store manager!”

Me: “Ma’am, even if she were here, she would tell you the same thing. These tests are non-refundable. The CDC has issued this warning. Please understand that there is literally nothing I can do. The system simply won’t allow me to refund these items, no matter how upset you are.”

Customer: “I WANT TO TALK TO THE STORE MANAGER! WHEN IS SHE COMING BACK IN?! NO ONE EVER TOLD ME THE TESTS WERE NON-REFUNDABLE! I WANT MY MONEY BACK!”

Me: “Ma’am, the only thing I can suggest is possibly calling corporate and asking if there’s any way around this?”

Customer: “I’M NOT CALLING ANYONE! I! WANT! MY! MONEY! BACK!”

Me: “Would you like me to call for you?”

Customer: “YES!”

A phone call is placed. The woman screams at the person on the other end for not having a sign in OUR store saying the tests are non-refundable, and she demands to know what he would do to rectify that. I pull away and speak to the person quietly, asking if there is ANYTHING I can do for this woman.

Corporate Representative: “I’m very sorry, but if she wants her money back, she will need to get reimbursed through her insurance company. However, not all insurance companies cover these tests.”

I hang up after several minutes of pleading to find the woman speaking kindly to my cashier.

Me: “Ma’am, I apologize, but he also said the only way to get your money back is to be reimbursed through your insurance company. We cannot do anything for you here. I’m sorry, but that’s the law.”

Customer: “Why’s it so hard for you to give me my money? I work hard to put money in my FSA [savings account], I have a job, I pay my taxes, and I’m a law-abiding citizen! What makes a little white girl think you can just steal my money like that?!”

She’s Black. At this point, I’ve had ENOUGH. NO ONE accuses me of being racist when race was never part of the conversation in the first place and gets away with it. I’m done playing nice.

I step back and point to the door.

Me: “You can see yourself out.”

Customer: “Oh, you’re mad because someone finally called you out on it!”

Me: *With a strained smile* “No. You probably weren’t aware, but you’ve been yelling at me for the last forty-five minutes, and we close soon. So leave.”

Customer: “WHAT IF I WANT TO BUY SOMETHING ELSE?! HUH?! I’M A PAYING CUSTOMER! YOU CAN’T JUST KICK ME OUT!”

Me: “Ma’am, I do not get paid to get yelled at by customers who think they’re above the law. You can leave now, or I will call the cops and have you forcibly removed from this building.”

Customer: *On the way out* “I’M GONNA CALL CORPORATE AND COMPLAIN! I’LL CALL YOUR BOSS! I’LL FIND YOU ON [SOCIAL MEDIA] AND LET THE WHOLE WORLD KNOW! YOU CAN’T TREAT ME LIKE THIS! I’LL HAVE THEM ALL FIRE YOU! YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY!”

I text my boss after we (barely) manage to close on time that night, telling her what happened.

Me: “[Cashier] was present for the entire thing, so he can back me up.”

Boss: “Don’t worry. Once a customer makes the complaint personal, i.e., ‘I’ll find you on [Social Media],’ corporate trashes it.”

Me: “Well, it makes me feel better to know I won’t be fired for not breaking the law, lol.”

Boss: “Oh, I would’ve kicked her out after ten minutes. You have so much more patience than I do. But… does she not know how to read, or is she just blind?”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Boss: “Well, she said no one ever told her that the tests were non-refundable, but in order to walk into the store, buy the tests, and then walk out, she has to walk past at LEAST three large, bright yellow signs that say, ‘[Illness] home tests are NON-REFUNDABLE and only covered by SOME insurances.’”

I slapped myself on the forehead for not thinking of that.

I was not fired.

Related:
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 31
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 30
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 29
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 28
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 27