(The supermarket I work in has recently had a fire in the roof which has left us to power the store using only the backup generator. The technicians are currently trying to fix the problem when one of them cuts all power to the tills. As a result, not only can we not scan ANYTHING, but since it’s all electronic we cannot process ANY payment as the drawers will not open. Many people are waiting patiently for it to be fixed while others have decided to leave their groceries and either come back later or go to another store. We have someone standing at the entrance advising customers of the problem as they come in. We are also handing out cups of water and cookies and cake to those who have chosen to wait, while others are returning cold products to the fridge and freezers. A woman in her late 20s comes to the front with a product and proceeds to barge past the 80 or so other customers who are waiting with their trollies, including an elderly man who is sitting on a chair at the end of my counter as he was getting a little dizzy.)

Customer: “What the h***? Why is everyone just standing around?”

Coworker: “Sorry, miss, all our registers are currently down and we can’t scan anything.”

Customer: “Oh, well, I only want this one thing. Can you just put it through for me?”

Coworker: “No, sorry. We have no way of scanning it and, as all the registers need power, we can’t even process a payment.”

Customer: “But I’ve only got one thing and I’m paying by card.”

Coworker: “Like I said, the power is out. We can’t scan anything, let alone process a payment. You’re more than welcome to leave it here and come back in about half an hour when everything should be back up, or there are other stores in the mall that sell the same product.”

Customer: “I don’t have time for this; I’m in a massive hurry. I just need this one thing. Why won’t you help me? You’re all just lazy. I’m going to [Competitor down the mall].”

(She throws her item at my coworker and storms out, muttering about bad service and only having one thing.)

Elderly Man: *to my coworker and me* “Is she serious? What doesn’t she understand about you having no power? I may not understand technology, but I know all this stuff runs on electricity.”

Me: “I really don’t know how else he could have told her.”

(Five minutes later, the power was back up. The elderly man was out about one minute later but came back to tell me the young lady was still standing in line at [Competitor], ranting about how incompetent we were.)

(I have recently been diagnosed with epilepsy at age fifteen and am at my fourth or fifth neurology appointment. For some background, some types of epilepsy can be categorized as “reflex,” meaning there is usually a trigger — most people are familiar with flashing lights — but there are a huge variety of triggers, ranging from drinking alcohol to hearing a specific kind of music. I am describing to my neurologist some symptoms I’ve been experiencing.)

Me: “Sometimes while I’m reading, I’ll have spells where the words are very difficult or I can’t read them at all.”

Neurologist: *mostly disinterested* “Oh… Well, have you been diagnosed with learning issues?”

(I’ve told him all of this before.)

Me: “No. I’ve been reading since I was four and it’s actually one of my favorite things to do. I’ve never shown any signs of dyslexia or anything like it.”

Neurologist: “Do you notice any patterns to when this occurs?”

Me: “I’ve noticed it happening a lot when I’m reading in Spanish.”

(I’m in AP Spanish and have been studying the language for around six years; I’m definitely not fluent yet but am reasonably proficient. I have also told him this before.) 

Neurologist: *long silence* “You’re probably just bad at Spanish. Go ahead and schedule another appointment for a month out.” *leaves*

(I ended up not telling my parents about this part of the appointment for around six months because I was embarrassed and believed my neurologist that I was probably exaggerating. However, during this time, the symptoms worsened, so I told my parents who found another neurologist — incidentally, around thirty years younger. He immediately diagnosed me with reading epilepsy, which is fairly uncommon but absolutely not unheard of and has nothing to do with any prior learning disabilities. For me, it is triggered by unfamiliar words, which, obviously, come up more often in a second language. I’ve now, thankfully, been able to receive much better care.)

This story is part of our Epilepsy roundup.

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(The bank where I work allows non-customers to cash checks drawn off of a legitimate account at our bank, but we have to see at least one form of ID, sometimes two. We take identity security very seriously.)

Me: “Hello, sir! How can I help you today?”

Customer: “I want to cash this.” *hands me a check drawn off of our bank*

Me: “No problem. Do you have an account with us?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Okay, I just need to see your ID, then.”

Customer: *waves his ID in front of me for two seconds, then puts it away*

Me: “Sir, I actually need to see your ID again. The computer won’t let me cash your check unless I enter it in the system.”

Customer: “Oh. Well, my driver’s license number is–” *rattles off his number* “–and my birthdate is—”

Me: “Um, sir? I need to have the ID sitting in front of me.”

Customer: “But I just gave you all the information you need.”

Me: “Well, bank policy says—”

Customer: “It takes too long when you have to look at it and enter it!”

Me: “Bank policy says that I have to have your actual ID in front of me.”

Customer: “BUT I JUST GAVE IT TO YOU! I JUST GAVE YOU ALL THE INFORMATION YOU NEED!”

Me: “It’s [Bank]’s policy, for security reasons.”

Customer: “IT TAKES TOO LONG!”

Me: “I know you’re you, and you know you’re you, but some people are dishonest about their identity. So, may I please see your license again?”

(The customer grumbles and almost flings his license at me, snatching it back after thirty seconds. Thankfully, I’m a fast typist. I give him his money and he storms out.)

Supervisor: “What was his problem?!”

Me: “He threw a fit about having to show his ID.”

Supervisor: “Customer?”

Me: “Nope. Non-customer.”

Supervisor: “Did you actually get his information?”

Me: “Yeah, it’s all in the computer. I hope that yelling at a teller half his age made his day better.”

(I’ve just returned to the sales floor to check on how my coworkers are doing. I see an older woman waiting by the counter and each of my coworkers helping a different customer, so I jump in to help her.)

Me: “Are you ready to check out?”

Customer: “Yes. I don’t understand why it takes three people to help one person.”

(I turn and look at my two coworkers, while standing fairly close, each helping a different customer.)

Me: “I think you misunderstand. Only two of those four people work here.”

Customer: “Yes. I don’t understand why it takes three people to help one person.”

(She punctuated that statement with a look of smug satisfaction, like she had just gotten my goat by repeating herself. I thought I should correct her again, but I know better, and I let her feel like she “won” the exchange.)

(I’m on a plane that doesn’t have any built-in TVs. The man next to me has made several irate comments about this, as he was apparently counting on the in-flight movies to keep him occupied. As far as I can tell, the only entertainment of his own that he’s brought is his phone. He’s been playing games on it the whole flight. While I’m in the middle of watching a movie on my laptop, he taps my shoulder and gestures for me to take out my headphones. I pause the movie and do so.)

Man: “Hey, my phone’s dead. I need to charge it.”

Me: “I don’t think this plane has any plugs. Sorry.”

Man: “That’s all right. I can just plug it into your laptop.”

Me: “Um, no. No, you can’t.”

Man: “I have the cord right here!”

Me: “Sorry, but I’m not comfortable allowing a stranger to plug an unknown device into my computer. And anyway, there’s only just enough charge left to finish the movie.”

Man: “Come on, I don’t need much!” *starts trying to plug his phone in despite my refusal*

Me: *loudly* “I said no!”

(By this point, we were attracting a bit of attention. I look young for my age — I’m often mistaken for a teenager — and from an outside perspective, this seemed worse than it was. Other passengers saw a young woman who they probably assumed was underage yelling, “I said no!” at a middle-aged man, and clearly made some assumptions. Noticing all the glaring and muttering, the man stopped trying to plug his phone in, and I was able to get back to my movie. Ten minutes later, though, I caught him trying to sneak his phone charger into my computer’s USB port. I tried for another ten minutes to watch the movie with my hand covering the USB port, but he started repeatedly ramming the charger into my hand. Eventually, I gave up and put my computer away without finishing the movie. In retrospect, I should’ve just flagged down a flight attendant.)