Four years after leaving a company where I was the only software engineer among mostly chemist employees, I meet a previous coworker at a community event.

Coworker: “Hey, [My Name]. When are you coming back to work at [Company]?”

Me: “Sorry, I am never going back to work there.”

Coworker: “But we really need you. The new guy is not working out; he’s no good.”

Me: “I’m not going back, but I have a solution for you: treat the new guy like he’s a valuable employee, pay him enough for the job, listen to him when he is explaining a software issue instead of saying, ‘Beep, beep boop, you’re speaking technical talk.’”

Yes, they really said that to me while I was there.

[Coworker] looked at me like I was joking. It’s been four more years since speaking with the coworker. Occasionally, I check job listings to see if the company is posting for that position, and yes, every six months to a year they are hiring for a software engineer.

I’m in line to check out when I see a man cut in the line a couple of lanes over.

Customer Behind Him: “Hey, the line’s—”

The impatient man throws his hands up and bellows in the guy’s face.

Impatient Man: “I don’t have time to wait! I’m too important to wait like a poor.”

Yes, he uses “poor” as a noun. The cashier looks like they want to say something, but the man talks over them.

Impatient Man: “Just hurry up and check me out. Can you manage that? I’ve got more important places to be.”

He’s still shouting, and several people have turned to look at that point. I see a manager striding up, and I’m hoping he will get thrown out, but no luck.

Manager: “Sir, you’re causing a scene. Please calm down.”

Impatient Man: “I’m causing a scene?! I’m not causing nothing. I just need my stuff and I’ll go. I’m too important to wait. I can buy and sell all of you!”

While they argue back and forth, the cashier apparently finishes scanning whatever he had, and he goes to pay. After a moment, the manager speaks up in a voice that’s just a bit louder and seems pitched to carry.

Manager: “I’m so sorry, sir, but that card is declined. Do have a different card?”

The man tries three different cards, or maybe the same card three times, with the manager announcing that it’s declined each time.

Manager: “Do you have cash? You don’t even have twenty dollars to cover this?”

I admit, I stuck around after finishing checking out just to see what happened. The man ultimately did not get his stuff, instead leaving with his head hanging just a bit. I’m guessing he was embarrassed to have it revealed that he was, in fact, “a poor.”

I am shopping with my mom and my sister at the grocery store. My sister and I are playing around but not enough to cause any disturbance; we stop when anyone is close by.

We both start laughing about something, and then this old lady who is a couple of feet in front of us confronts us, snapping her fingers at us.

Old Lady: “Girls, settle down.”

Me: “What the f—”

Mom: *To the lady* “Excuse me.”

She starts walking away, I’m guessing because she didn’t notice that my mom was right there.

Old Lady: “I’m a substitute teacher and I know how to handle kids.”

Mom: “Well, I’m their mother and I can control my own kids.”

The lady kept walking away.

In conclusion, she was embarrassed that my mom turned out to be there. I know for a fact that if we were being loud or obnoxious, my mom would have told us to settle down.

I’m working as a cashier in a small chain store. A regular customer comes up with a few items. As I ring him up, he starts complaining.

Customer: “My family was here this morning, and one of your staff yelled at my two-year-old for touching things on the shelves.”

Me: “Do you know who it was? What they looked like?”

My supervisor walks over, having heard the “I’m Not Happy” tone of voice. She’s friends with the customer.

Supervisor: “Who’s been yelling at my little boy?”

Customer: “I don’t know. I know it wasn’t you or [My Name]. But he’s my child, and I’ll tell him when not to do something. It’s not your job to tell my boy not to touch things.”

Further questioning reveals that he’s complaining about the assistant manager, who would never yell at a child. We try to placate the irritated customer, but he’s still not happy as he leaves.

Customer: “She had no right to do that! It’s not your job to tell my kid anything. It’s not your job!”

My supervisor called the assistant manager to find out what had actually happened. The customer’s toddler had been playing with the lock on our entry doors and was about to pinch his tiny fingers between sharp-edged steel. The assistant manager had asked him nicely to stop messing with the door because he could get hurt. Apparently, the parents considered that “yelling” and didn’t want anyone but themselves ever telling their child not to do something.

I work at an antique store. I always ask our customers if they need help finding anything or if they need help with any home projects they’re working on since we paint a lot of customers’ furniture.

My boss calls me into her office.

Boss: “I have had some complaints about you that I feel we need to discuss. I had someone tell me that you asked if they needed help with anything or if they were looking for anything and they said, ‘No,’ and you didn’t try to help them.”

I genuinely thought she was joking. She was not.