I work in asphalt with my dad. We seal coat parking lots (essentially spraying parking lots black again so they look new) and the black stuff goes on wet. We cone off these areas and signs are put up WELL in advance telling people that the parking lot will be closed for this reason.

Cue a pedal biker who, after blowing through a line of bright orange cones, hits the seal coat while it’s still wet, falls, and then slides across the asphalt, drenching his pretty biking outfit in our oil-based sealer. My dad just looks at him.

Dad: “Well, now you know what the cones are for.”

It is five am in an airport, so that is what I attribute most of this story to. I have ordered a hot sandwich because this is the only place open — no coffee because I don’t drink it. A group arrives just after me and places orders for drinks, and then we all mill around the collection area.

A member of staff puts my sandwich down in the collection area and calls my name. As I step forward, one of the men from the group behind me steps up to the counter and blocks me.

Customer: “This isn’t a latte.”

Me: “No, it’s my sandwich.”

Employee: “No, that’s her sandwich.”

He picks up my sandwich and looks at it.

Customer: “I ordered a latte. This isn’t a latte.”

I am reaching round him now, but he is tall and I am very short.

Me: “Excuse me. That’s my sandwich.”

He looks at me, confused.

Other Customer In The Group: “That’s her sandwich, [Customer]; your coffee is next.”

Employee: “Can you give her the sandwich?”

The man looks from me to the member of staff again.

Customer: “This isn’t my latte.”

Me: “No, it’s my sandwich.”

I reach for it. He is still staring vaguely at me but lets me tug my sandwich out of his hand and step away. As I am walking away, I hear:

Customer: “Did she take my latte?”

I worked in a large retail chain in their portrait studio as a manager. The portrait studio was actually an entirely separate company from the retail chain. I had two occasions where I wasn’t working but customers expected me to deal with them anyway.

The first time, I was doing some shopping before heading home after work. A customer found me in the store, nowhere near the studio.

Customer #1: “I need you to give me my pictures!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but the studio closed an hour ago.”

On another occasion, a customer tracked me down in the café.

Customer #2: “Come and take my pictures for me!”

Me: “The studio is closed for lunch right now, ma’am.”

Customer #2: “Where does it say that?!”

I took her over to our six-foot sign and pointed to and read to her where it said, “Closed For Lunch 2:00 pm to 3:00 pm.”

I then walked away and finished my lunch.

Me: “Thank you for calling [Company]. How can I help you?”

Caller: “I need to speak to your managing director, please.”

Me: “Our managing director is deaf and prefers to be contacted via email. I can give you the address if you’d like?”

Caller: “No, I need to speak with him directly; it’s regarding a limited-time offer. When is a good time to call back?”

Me: “You can call back any time you want; she will still be deaf.”

My company supplies to a very big, very well-known expensive brand you’ve heard of. Getting in and out of the brand’s building is a nightmare, and it’s so time-consuming.

Luckily, if you are a regular, you can get an exception and bypass this. Unluckily, for whatever reason, they are dragging their heels in extending the same courtesy to me, despite the fact that I should be more than eligible.

I grab some bits they suddenly want and drive the two hours to get there. As I arrive at the security gate, of course, they forgot to book me in and I have to wait and wait because no one is answering their phone.

I make an excuse and leave the security office. I manage to blag my way past the service gate and sneak through all the security doors just by carrying a big box and looking like I need doors opened for me.

I make it to the area where they need the parts.

Manager: “Oh, hey, thanks for getting here.”

Me: “No worries. Although, can you make sure I’m booked in next time, please?”

Manager: “I’m so sorry. Wait, who booked you in?”

Me: *Pauses* “Yeah, so, I’ve got to go. Very late already.”

Manager: “No, seriously, this is a secure site. How on earth did you make it inside? You don’t even have a pass.”

Me: “Oh, yeah, that. Well, there’s a good explanation for that.”

Just at that moment, he was interrupted, and I sneaked off. Getting out actually proved harder than getting in! I made friends with the service gate guard and managed to sneak in for months, seemingly completely legitimately.