(I am a twenty-year-old woman and I recently went to a professional baseball game and bought a jersey there. I like jerseys that are loose and somewhat baggy, so the one I bought is a little long on me. During the middle of the game I go to get something to drink and I am waiting at the top of the stands to be let back down to my seat. A woman in her 60s or 70s has been glaring at me the entire time I’ve been standing there, but I don’t think anything of it. When a twelve-year-old boy walks up to wait, she storms off and returns with a security guard.)

Woman: *points at me* “There she is, Officer! I want her arrested right now!”

(Everyone is staring at me, and the security guard looks very confused.)

Security Guard: “Her? Um, for what, exactly?”

Woman: “For public indecency! Look at her! She isn’t wearing any pants! And with a child right next to her!”

Boy: “Child?! I’m almost 13!”

Me: “Um, excuse me, but I have pants on; I’m wearing shorts. My jersey is long, so it covers them up. See?” *lifts my jersey up to show her that I AM wearing shorts*

Woman: “Oh, um…”

Security Guard: *turns to the woman* “Ma’am, I think you’d better return to your seat.”

(I told my boyfriend what happened when I got back to my seat. He couldn’t stop laughing at the idea of someone thinking I would walk around a public stadium full of thousands of people with no pants on!)

(I work as a lab technician in a factory. I’m one of the few females in a workplace full of males who — sometimes literally — think they know it all. There is one coworker in particular who served a short stint in the Navy years ago and now tries to insert this into conversation wherever he can, in order to talk about his “hard time served in the military.”  This guy served a few months and then was quietly discharged due to some obscure medical condition. The way he talks about it, though, he was on the front lines, digging trenches, giving orders, etc. I’m just going about my job, and it’s common for people to come into the lab for an assortment of different reasons. Also note that I’m wearing a Harry Potter shirt this day with the spell “Expecto Patronum” on the front.)

Coworker: “Hey, turn around. I want to read you shirt… Expecto Patronum… Oh, I know this! It’s Latin for, ‘Expect Greatness.’ I learned it in the Navy!”

Me: *trying not to burst out laughing*

Coworker: *sees me grinning from ear to ear* “Is that it?! I’m right, aren’t I?”

Me: “Uh… Actually, it’s a spell from Harry Potter.”

Coworker: “Oh… Huh. Must have been something similar that I learned in my time, I guess.”

(Sure, dude… Whatever you say. I got a good laugh out of it with my Harry Potter-loving friends and coworkers.)

(I work in the electronics department. I’m alone as my coworker is on her lunch. I’m currently ringing up a man for some online gaming cards when a woman walks over to me.)

Woman: “Are you the only one working right now?”

Me: “Yes.”

Woman: “Just great.”

(She walks back over to the tablet display. I finish up the order ,and I walk over to see if I can help her. She’s with her young son — about seven, I think — and her parents. Her parents end up leaving to go look at other products.)

Me: “Sorry about that. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Woman: “Yeah. Why doesn’t this display work?!”

(She’s looking at the children’s tablet display model. We have an empty display next to it, the regular tablet, and a book tablet display.)

Me: *tries to turn it on* “Looks like it’s not working, Huh… must be the charger.”

Woman: *goes to unplug it and plug it into the empty slot*

Me: “Ma’am, please don’t mess with it. It’s supposed to be attached to that security base.”

Woman: “I’m just trying to see if I can fix it!” *to her son* “Is this the one you want? You can’t even see what it does!”

Son: “Yeah. That’s the one.”

Woman: *to me* “What’s the difference between this [the children’s] and that [the regular] one?!”

Me: “Looks like it’s just the case and parental controls. Other than that, they’re the same tablet.”

Woman: “What about the app store? Are there free products on it?”

Me: “I would assume so; it’d be just like the [Phone Brand] app store.”

Woman: *goes over to the regular tablet display* “I want to access the app store! Why won’t it let me?!”

Me: “It’s the display model; it’s set to display mode, so it’s only going to show you a few things.”

Woman: “But I want to see the app store!”

Me: “I’m sorry. It only shows you a few features, as it’s on display mode.”

Woman: “Can’t you do anything about it?”

Me: “Sorry, I can’t.”

Woman: “Is it already charged in the package?”

Me: “I’m not sure; I would imagine so.”

Woman: “Can I see the package?”

Me: “Yeah, no problem!”

(I get out the box for the children’s tablet and let her look at it. She begins to open the box.)

Me: “Ma’am, please don’t open it until you pay for it.”

Woman: “I want to see if it’s charged!”

(She continues to ignore me and opens the package. She then realizes that the tablet is in a separate box that is glued shut.)

Woman: “Are you serious?!” *to son* “Do you want this or not?!”

Son: “Yeah.”

Woman: “Fine. We’ll get this.”

(They come up to the counter to pay as her parents return. Her son counts out $60, and then she recounts it, hands it to me, and yells at me to recount it, as well. She and her son leave, but her parents stay behind to pay for a backpack they wanted.)

Her Father: *shakes my hand* “Thank you for having patience with my daughter. I’m sorry.”

(I’m an IT helpdesk manager. Over the summer, we have a lot of projects, and as such we are trying to get customers to help themselves rather than relying on us to hold their hands when fixing their problems. I come back from a meeting to one of the first-line guys with a call on hold. He passes it to me as the woman on the other end is causing a bit of a fuss. She’s lost a folder in her email application. It happens all the time. Usually it’s just an accidental drag and drop into another folder. She won’t listen to my instructions to find it.)

Caller: “Send someone round to my desk, now!“

(She’s literally a data entry clerk; she has no urgent work. I try again to coach her on how to find the folder herself. She doesn’t want to know.)

Me: “I would advise you to log a ticket on our system with the details, and we’ll get back to you.”

(Ten minutes later, a “Priority One” ticket appears. When you log this, it tells you this is only for full system outages, power cuts, or VIP tickets. The ticket has no extra information, only, “Lost email folder. Send someone to help ASAP.” I then get two emails: one from my boss, and one from his boss. They’ve been notified that a “Priority One” ticket has been raised, and they want to know why. I downgrade it to a “Priority Three,” and attach some basic instructions for the user to follow, advising that if she still can’t find the folder after following the instructions, then we’ll assign someone from second-line support to look at it for her.)

Caller: *responding in all caps* “I WANTED SOMEONE TO COME AND LOOK AT THIS FOR ME, NOT GIVE ME INSTRUCTIONS. I MIGHT AS WELL HAVE DONE THIS MYSELF!”

(Now she’s getting it. I closed the ticket, asking her not to log “Priority One” tickets for non-critical matters again. My replies to my boss and his boss were also copied to her boss, who replied to all that he would remind her not to do that again.)

I heard this story from a bookstore clerk. He told me he had been working in the bookstore for a couple weeks when, on a Saturday morning, this couple came in. The wife started browsing the shelves, while the husband, a French gentleman, stood by the counter chatting with the clerk. When the wife came back to speak to the husband, the clerk noticed how rude she was, speaking loudly, almost screaming at him.

Later, he talked about the couple to the bookstore owner, saying how impressed he was with the husband, who had a very interesting and intelligent conversation, and the wife’s manner, mainly the way she yelled at him. The owner said, “Oh, that’s my friend, Mr. [Friend]. His wife is annoying as h***, so to avoid as much conversation with her as he can, he pretends to be deaf.”