I was at a coffee shop. There were two padded chairs in a corner, and I was sitting in one of them. The other chair was next to an empty table. An elderly man and what I assumed was his grandson walked up.

Grandfather: “Excuse me. Is this seat taken?”

He gestured to the empty padded chair.

Me: “Oh, no. Go ahead.”

The grandfather sat. He pulled a chair out from the table for his grandson, who seemed to be happily playing with a toy. I turned back to my laptop and put my headphones on. After a moment, I realized the grandfather was trying to get my attention, so I pulled off my headphones.

Grandfather: “You know, staring too much at a screen can damage your eyes.”

Me: “Um… okay.”

I turned back to my laptop and ignored him. I guess you were upset that I wasn’t interested in talking to you, old man. Maybe you should have focused on spending time with your grandson instead of making passive-aggressive remarks to strangers.

I take a tour of an apartment complex, and everything looks above-board to me. Several staff are in the office, and the tour itself is very professional. [Manager] tells me the rate for a one-bedroom, and I say I’ll need to think about it. I tour a few other complexes. Two days later, I give the first complex a call in the morning.

Me: “I’d like to come in and sign a lease. Would that be possible today?”

Staff Member: “Oh, yes! You can come in at any time.”

Me: “Great! And it’s $575 for a one-bedroom, right?”

Staff Member: “Oh, it’s actually $605 for a one-bedroom.”

This is the first red flag. I decide to go in, anyway. When I get there, it’s mid-afternoon, and [Staff Member] is the only one in the office. She is running between phones and trying to help tenants who come in with issues while I’m there. I end up being there for about half an hour, during which time no other staff makes an appearance.

She gives me a blank application to fill out, and I ask about the price hike. She has to hunt around for a price list and explains that the rate increases with each day that passes, which is the first time I’ve heard this. She also mentions that the rate is now $625. While she helps a tenant, I look over the application. It is generic, with no details about the specific unit I’d be renting.

Staff Member: “If you just sign that at the bottom, I’ll make sure my manager gets that and gives you a call.”

Me: “I’d prefer not to sign a blank form. The monthly rate isn’t even on here yet.”

Staff Member: “Oh, it’ll be $625. It should be fine.”

Me: “Yeah, I’d still prefer for that to be written on the form before I sign it.” *Stands up* “I’m going to have to get some info from my co-signer, too, before I finish this.”

I did not go back.

Two of my mall “friends” are a pair of sisters, a seven-year-old and a three-year-old whose parents run a food stand right outside my store. I have gotten my hair cut very short and bleached it, and they’re both quite shocked. Once they get over it, we’re chatting as usual. 

Three-Year-Old: “Can I have a candy?”

Me: “Did you ask your mom?”

Three-Year-Old: “No.”

Me: “Then you can’t have any candy.”

Three-Year-Old: “Why?”

Me: “Because I’m not giving you candy unless your mom says yes.”

Three-Year-Old: “But why?”

Me: “Because I said so.”

Three-Year-Old: *Narrowing her eyes* “I don’t like your hair.”

I am fourteen years old and not very assertive. I go to a rollerskating rink with a friend who’s a year younger than me. My friend spots a few friends of hers and goes off briefly to skate with them, but while she’s gone, I trip on the skating rink and end up hurting my elbow. My friend comes up, and I tell her that I think I’ll be okay. I sit at a booth on the edge of the rink, but the pain doesn’t fade and feels pretty bad.

I approach the concession stand. Half a dozen employees are there, and they all pause to look at me.

Employee: “Hi. What can we get you?”

Me: “I fell on the rink and hurt my elbow…”

The employees immediately scattered and started doing other things. I stood there for an instant, hoping they would come back to me, but they didn’t.

I left and sat back down, unsure what to do. I eventually got back up, went back to the stand, and specifically asked for some ice. They gave me some in a cup. I sat back down and waited for my friend’s mom to pick us up.

When I told my dad about it later, he suggested that the employees didn’t want to be liable for my accident, so that’s why they ignored me. I wonder why the employees would expect a fourteen-year-old girl to sue them.

(Leaving the fast-food drive-thru window, I am overwhelmed with a wave of nausea and dizziness. I manage to pull across several parking spaces and wait, hoping I’ll feel better. I don’t. I think I might pass out, and wish I’d throw up because that might make me feel better. Clearly, I can’t drive, and I have no idea what was wrong. Dizzy, scared, and disoriented, I call 911.)

911: “911! What’s the address of your emergency?”

Me: “I have no idea. I’m at the [Fast Food Restaurant] on the corner of [Highway] and [Cross street].”

911: “But I need a specific address.”

Me: “I can’t give you a specific address. I’m in pain and scared. I’m at–” *repeats cross streets* “Please help me!”

911: “We cannot help you without a street address, ma’am.”

Me: *losing my cool completely* “Okay, start at the hospital. Drive north on [Highway] a few blocks. When you get to [Major Store], look to the east, to your right. You will see [Fast Food Place] with a car parked across several spots. That’s me!”

(Funniest thing, they did find me! It turned out to be a kidney stone.)