(I get a phone call and answer it. I’m met with the most awkward robotic voice I’ve heard, randomly pausing and emphasizing every third syllable.)

Robot: “Hello, this is the Canadian justice department. You are being called because your social security number has been flagged for criminal charges.” 

(It then goes on to impart how serious ignoring the phone call is and how ignoring this call is also a crime and this is my best shot to not be put in federal court in front of the magistrate. It then says, “Press one to talk to a representative.” I know this is a scam, so I take a moment to figure out how I want to do this before I press one. The woman it connects me to has a moderate Indian accent. I try to do an English accent, and end up speaking in the worst accent I’ve ever heard.)

Scammer: “Hello, this is the justice department. Can I please have your first and last name so I can look up why we called you?”

Me: “Wait, why don’t you have that already? The bot said that you got my phone number from my social security.”

Scammer: “Well, I still need your f****** name to look you up!” *click*

(It was a shame; I was about to let her know what I thought of our government that can’t even tell its workers why they called me.)

(I work at an auto dealership. A customer comes in to buy out their existing lease. I have to get the exact VIN and miles off the car so I can submit the proper paperwork to the state.)

Me: “May I please see your keys so I can get the miles?”

Customer: *shoves a crumpled piece of paper that has VIN and miles scribbled on it* “Here you go.”

Me: “Unfortunately, I have to get the info from the car.”

Customer: “You calling me a liar?”

Me: “No, sir, this is the process to buy out your lease. We need an odometer statement with exact miles.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous. Can’t you just put this info in?”

Me: “No, sir, it’s my name on the bill of sale. I wouldn’t want to send the wrong info to the state so you have a title issue later on. Would you?”

(He reluctantly follows me to his car and unlocks it, still grasping his key like it’s made of gold or something.)

Customer: “It’s unlocked; go ahead.”

Me: “Again, I need your key so I can physically look and write down the miles.”

Customer: “You don’t need s***.”

Me: “Fair enough. You won’t get a bill of sale or the title.”

(The customer’s wife is getting irritated because they drove an hour to do this. I can see that he does this crap often. The customer finally gives me the keys.)

Me: “Wow, looks like you were 500 miles off. No biggie, I’ll make sure to put the correct info on the statement.”

Customer: “Did you just call me a liar?”

Me: “No, sir, I merely read what’s off the odometer. Numbers don’t lie. Here is your paperwork. Have a great day!”

(My tire light keeps going off and on. I keep taking it in to get checked and no one can figure out what the issue is. I’m a female in my late 20s but I look much younger. The tech that’s been helping me is an older guy, about my dad’s age. I walk into the shop, and my normal tech is cashing someone out.)

Tech #1: “Hello, young lady! Don’t tell me. The tire light went off again.”

Me: “Yep.”

Tech #1: “I think it might be an issue with your sensor. I’m gonna have [Tech #2] check you in, and then I’ll look into it myself when I’m done with this other customer. Okay?”

Me: “Great. Thanks!”

([Tech #2], who is about my age, waves me over.)

Tech #2: “Okay, so you’re [My Name] with the [Make and Model], right?”

Me: “Yep.”

Tech #2: “I was working on it last time, and I gotta tell you… your alignment is way off on that car.”

Me: “Really? I’ve been in here three times in the last month and no one’s said anything about it.”

Tech #2: “Well, it’s important to get your car re-aligned. Otherwise, it’ll drift, and you could cause an accident. I’d be happy to add that on today.”

Me: “How much is it?”

(He names a price that almost hits four figures.)

Me: “No. I can’t afford that. I don’t know what’s actually wrong with my car, and I’m not adding on any other services until I do.”

Tech #2: “But you could cause an accident! You don’t want that, do you?”

Me: “I just want my tires checked. That’s it.”

Tech #2: “Whatever.”

(He checks me in and drives my car onto the rack. I sit in the waiting area and pull out a book. Ten minutes later, [Tech #1] walks back into the store and waves me over.)

Tech #1: “I’ve only checked one tire, but I had to show you this. Been driving through any road work zones lately?”

Me: “They’re doing construction and road work near my office. Why?”

(He produces a very large nail that is the same shade of black as my tire.)

Me: “WHAT?!”

Tech #1: “It was in there at such an angle that you couldn’t tell until you took the tire off the car– which, of course, no one did until today. I’m sorry about that. That’s on us. I’m going to take the other tires off and make sure you don’t have any more.”

(He goes back outside. Twenty minutes later, he comes back in.)

Tech #1: “Well, [My Name], looks like you’ve got nails in two other tires. You’re gonna need a new set. We are having a sale on your brand, so that’ll take the cost down. I really recommend we get those on today.”

Me: “You might as well. Can’t drive a car with three damaged tires. Quick question, though. Is my alignment off?”

Tech #1: “What? No. The rest of your car is great. Why?”

Me: “Someone told me it was off.”

([Tech #1] looks over at [Tech #2] and sighs.)

Tech #1: “Nope. Not your car. Ignore that. I’m gonna get those tires on your car and get you out of here. I’ll throw on another discount, as well.”

(While the tires were still a few hundred dollars, the additional discount helped a lot. I only use that mechanic now. I’ve been there a few other times for oil changes, and I haven’t seen [Tech #2] since.)

(A woman approaches my counter with a product that is on clearance for half off. I have been helping another customer, and when I finish, I turn to her and push my glasses up my nose.)

Customer: “I’m sorry, but before you help me, can you wash your hands, since you were just picking your nose?”

Me: “Um… Sure, okay.”

(I go back to the sink and wash my hands. When I return, she is still there.)

Me: “Okay, all clean. Will this be all today?”

Customer: “Yes, and I want to know if I need my [Store Membership Program] card to get the discount?”

Me: “Well, it looks like this item is coming up at [price], which is half off the original price. I don’t think we’ll need your card today.”

Customer: “It had an orange tag in front of it.”

Me: “Yeah, that’s just letting you know it’s half off because it’s on clearance. It came up at the discounted price.”

Customer: “Okay.” *pays*

(I go to bag her item.)

Customer: “Can you get me a different bag?”

Me: “Sure, was something wrong with this one?”

Customer: “You rubbed it all over your chest.”

Me: *raises eyebrow* “Okay, I’ll get you another bag.”

(I lay the first bag on the counter and reach for a new bag but she stops me.)

Customer: “Just give it to me; I’ll do it myself.”

Me: “Sure thing, ma’am.” *hands her the bag*

Customer: “Can I speak to a manager?”

Me: “Sure, was there a problem?”

Customer: “I will not be discriminated against.”

Me: *shocked* “Um, I apologize if anything I did seemed discriminatory. I assure you that was not my intention.”

Customer: “Just call a manager!”

(I do. My manager comes over and speaks with the woman while I go back to helping my first customer. Finally, the woman leaves and I approach my manager.)

Me: “What did she say I did?”

Manager: *rolls eyes* “She said that you rubbed her bags all over your chest and that insinuated she was a lesbian and she ‘is not a lesbian’!” I know you wouldn’t do that. She just wanted a discount.”

Me: “She wanted more off of her already half-off item?”

Manager: “Some people…”

(I am pregnant with my second child and a bit upset I have passed the 200-pound mark. To try to cheer me up, my mother takes me, my sister, and my daughter out to spend the day together. We have stopped at a diner for lunch and have just been seated when my daughter starts getting fussy because she is hungry.)

Customer: “Hey!” *snaps at the waitress* “That baby is causing a racket! It shouldn’t be allowed in here!”

Waitress: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but this is a family restaurant. They have every right to be here.”

Customer: “My meal has been ruined by that brat! I want it for free!”

Waitress: “I can’t do that, ma’am. You have ordered and eaten five entrees, and have already received your check. I can’t comp your entire meal just because a baby starts crying as you are getting ready to leave.”

Customer: “I’m going to call corporate on you for this! F****** brat has ruined my entire day!”

(The customer finally pays and leaves, but not without more foul language and many nasty looks in our direction. My mother has had her hand on my arm to keep me seated and has been whispering to me to stay calm the entire time. After the customer leaves, the waitress approaches our table.)

Waitress: “I’m very sorry about that. Can I get you ladies something to drink?”

Me: “Boy, I wish I could have some alcohol right now…”

Waitress: “I know how you feel. That’s the third time this month that lady has tried to get a free meal out of us.”

Me: “And I thought it was only us pregnant chicks that were that bat-s*** crazy…”