(I work in a retail pharmacy. One day a patient brings in a prescription for a blood pressure monitor. My coworker is taking prescriptions.)

Coworker: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we can’t fill this. We sell them over the counter but we can’t bill them to insurance.” *tries to hand it back*

Patient: *upset* “Yes, you can fill them. I had one filled here a few years ago.”

Coworker: “We have never been able to fill blood pressure monitors; our company isn’t authorized to dispense medical equipment.”

Patient: *angry* “Then it must have been before you started here, but I had one filled at this store!”

Coworker: *getting frustrated* “I have worked at this store since it opened eleven years ago, and have been in the pharmacy for seven years, and we have never dispensed blood pressure monitors.”

Patient: “Yes, you have! The first time I brought a prescription in, the pharmacist showed me where they were, handed me one, and I walked out with it!”

Coworker: *shocked* “If you walked out with it, then you just walked out with it.”

Patient: “I am not a thief! I have never stolen anything in my life!” *stomps off*

(She called corporate on my coworker for “calling her a thief,” but we had already sent an email to our district manager detailing the incident, so nothing came of it.)

(I tend to go into work, or head to any appointment, around an hour early. This is for many reasons: to time how long it takes to walk there so, in the case of jobs, I’m never late, to cool down from the walk before needing to do anything, and sometimes just to buy stuff beforehand. I have applied at a local gas mart I have never walked to before, so I arrive for my interview an hour and a half early. Said mart also makes small batches of food, like hotdogs, subs, chicken fingers, etc., so it is pretty busy. I just take a seat near the back and start reading my book. Then, I decide I am thirsty, so I grab a drink and get in line to pay, and the manager sees me when I say hi to the cashier.)

Manager: *in a really snotty tone* “You’re early! It’s too busy to interview you!”

Me: *surprised, but trying to be as neutral-sounding as possible* “I understand I’m an hour early. I was walking and decided to stop in and grab a drink.” *holds up my book and the bottle of water I am buying* “I can read until you’re ready. If it stays busy, no rush. I have nowhere else to be today and can wait.”

Manager: *still giving me an attitude* “Well! Don’t expect your interview to be early! It’s slammed!”

(She stalks into the back room while I pay for my water and sit back down. I can hear the manager quite clearly, too, with her attitude still fully in her voice:)

Manager: “I can’t believe he’s here this early, expecting me to drop everything to interview him! He can wait until we’re less busy, and I’m good and ready!”

(I stand up and say to the cashier:)

Me: “You know what? I don’t think I really want this job after all. Let her know for me?”

(I hurried myself right out of there. I stopped in a few times a month over the next year, since a construction job I got not long after passed by there, and the same manager was always there… and they were always looking for new hires.)

(I work in a higher-end shoe store. Most of what we sell is relatively expensive. A customer approaches me during sale season, during which the majority of our merchandise is reduced.)

Customer: “My wife has been wanting to buy these shoes for three years, but they’re never on sale! Why do you reduce everything during a sale aside from these shoes?”

Me: “I’m very sorry, sir, but as floor staff we don’t really have any impact in pricing. You’ll have to take that up with the company itself.”

Customer: “I can see that you’re targeting me! Why don’t you reduce the price of these shoes? My wife just wants these shoes!”

Me: “Again, sir, I’m very sorry, but—”

Customer: “Three years we’ve been waiting!”

(I continue to apologise, but he clearly isn’t getting it. The customer continues ranting as he leaves the store.)

Customer: “Three years! For a pair of shoes!”

(The best bit? Our sales are mainly just for publicity, and rarely worth it. I’d honestly rather just buy the shoes at full price than wait for three years for the possibility of 10% off.)

(I have relatives over. They are not fond of my girlfriend because they consider her weird and childish. My dad and I are preparing dinner when I accidentally cut my finger.)

Me: “S***. Babe, can you bring me a band-aid?”

Girlfriend: *from upstairs* “Sure, hold on.”

(As soon as she leaves the room my dad pipes in.)

Dad: “How can you date someone who dresses like a twelve year old?”

Me: “She’s 23; she can dress however she wants.”

Dad: “And what grown woman collects stuffed animals?”

Me: “She likes cute things. Big deal. A lot of adults collect toys.”

(Before my dad can say another word, my girlfriend comes in with a band-aid, the cutesy kind.)

Girlfriend: “Here, sorry it took so long. I didn’t find any in your medicine cabinet so I got some from mine.”

Me: “It’s fine.”

Dad: “You’re a grown-a** man, you—”

Me: “Stop, just stop. I’ve had enough. It’s a band-aid; it’ll do its job regardless of how it looks. Another disrespectful comment, and you, as well as everyone who shares your attitude, can go check into a hotel.”

(The rest of the visit was thankfully without incident. We’re still not sure if we should tell my side of the family that we’re planning to get married.)

(I’m sitting on a bench. I rub my neck because it hurts. A stranger comes up behind me.)

Stranger: “Generation Look-Down. You know, you wouldn’t have so many problems if you stopped using those phones!”

(They start ranting about the evils of technology. I wordlessly hold up my crocheting.)

Stranger: *sputters* “I… I have an errand!” *runs off*