(I work in a library. A middle-aged woman approaches the desk.)

Patron: “I was in the computer lab the other day, and I brought a big folding chair. I left it behind. Is it in your lost and found?”

Me: “I can check, but I doubt it would be there. Let me check the lab.”

Patron: *already growing irate* “I already checked in there.”

Me: “Okay, I’ll check our lost and found, but I didn’t see any chairs when I came in.”

Patron: “So that means somebody stole it. Great.”

(She’s so rude that, by this point, I just want to get rid of her. I go to the back room and, sure enough, the only chairs we have are ones that the library owns.)

Me: “I didn’t see it back there.”

Patron: *even more irritated than before* “Okay, so where would it go?”

Me: “I don’t know.”

(Honestly, who brings a CHAIR to a library and forgets to take it home?)

Patron: *demanding* “Who was cleaning that night?”

Me: “I don’t have access to that information.”

(Our cleaning crew is privately contracted, so only library administration has access to their schedule.)

Patron: “So, nobody turned in a chair at all?”

Me: “No.”

Patron: “Well, then, what am I supposed to do?”

Me: “You could check back at the circulation desk up front.”

(Thankfully, she left at that point. I can understand her frustration, but seriously, who brings their own chair to a public library and then assumes it was stolen instead of put in storage by a confused cleaning crew member?)

(My fiancé and I have gone to our local comic shop and gaming store to play in a “Magic: The Gathering” draft tournament. After everyone has signed up and paid, the owner tells us to take a seat at the tables so that he and his employee can pass out the packs of cards. As he’s handing out packs, the shop employee taps a guy on the shoulder and points at the girl sitting next to him.)

Employee: “She’s not playing, so she can’t sit there.” *shrugs* “I’m not saying you’d cheat, but those are the rules so that people aren’t tempted to cheat.”

Guy: “Oh, okay.” *to the girl* “Sorry, baby.”

Girl: “That’s okay. I’m just going to take the car and go grab something to eat, okay?”

(She gets up and starts to leave the shop. The guy watches her go and notices me as she walks past me.)

Guy: *suddenly pointing at me* “Hey! If my girlfriend can’t sit with me, then she can’t sit with him!”

Employee: *without looking up from what he’s doing* “Yes, she can. She’s playing.”

Guy: *scowling* “But you made my girlfriend leave!”

Employee: *rolls his eyes* “I said she’s playing. If you want your girlfriend to sit with you, go pay [Shop Owner] $15 so she can play.”

Guy: *scoffs* “My girlfriend doesn’t want to play Magic.”

Employee: *pointing at me* “Well, she does want to play and has paid her $15, so she can sit right there with her man if she wants to.”

Guy: *grumbling* “It’s not fair.”

Employee: *groans* “Life’s not fair. But she’s paid her money and it wouldn’t be fair for me to make her leave.”

(The guy starts to complain again but a friend of ours, who is sitting next to him, cuts him off.)

Friend: *annoyed* “Oh, my God, shut up! She’s in here with him all the time! She legitimately knows what she’s doing and paid to sit her a** in that chair, so shut the f*** up or do us all a favor and leave!”

(The guy sulked the rest of the evening and even pouted when I came in fourth place.)

This story is part of our International Women’s Day roundup!

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(I work at a small, local grocery store, the kind that prides itself on customer service. One of my jobs is to take customers’ bags out to their cars. We’re in a somewhat nice part of town, so our customers are mostly middle-upper class. I usually hear this every so often as I take carts out.)

Me: “Okay, where are we headed?”

Customer: “Oh, it’s the white SUV over there.” *points somewhere in our parking lot where there are at least three white SUVs that they could be pointing at*

(I’m cashiering at a well-known department store.)

Customer: *puts her items on the counter* “Can I keep the hangers? And will you put this in a garment bag?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am.” *starts ringing her up*

Customer: “I forgot my [Store] card in my car and I don’t want to walk all the way outside to go get it.”

Me: “That’s okay. I can look it up using your ID. And you get an extra discount for using it today. It brings your total to [total].”

Customer: “I left my ID in the car, too. I didn’t want to carry around my heavy purse while I shopped. Can you use my husband’s ID? It’s the same last name and address.”

(On a normal day, I would do this. However, my store just changed the way we do a card lookup for security reasons and I definitely need her ID. She makes a HUGE show of having to go to her car to get her purse, and when she gets back she is exaggerating being exhausted)

Customer: “Ugh. This thing is so heavy. And it’s so hot outside.” *digs for her store card, can’t find it, and hands me her ID*

(I go to perform the lookup but it directs me to call our authorization department. I call and go through various steps with the woman on the other end to find the customer’s card, who tells me it’s been closed due to inactivity.)

Me: “When was the last time you used your card?”

Customer: “Maybe six months ago.”

Me: “Well, they told me that it was closed due to inactivity, but you can—“

Customer: *flips me off* “You can tell that to the b**** on the phone that I’m never opening another card here.” *leaves without taking her items or paying*

Me: *ringing up the next customer*

Customer: *comes back in the store* “Can I just pay with a Visa?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am.”

Customer: “You didn’t tell me that.” *pays for her things* “I can’t believe this. I’ve been in here using my card! How can it be closed?! What’s the time limit for inactivity?”

Me: “Usually a year, but they’ve changed a lot of things this year.”

Customer: “I’m going to call them tomorrow. So, can I reopen my card here?”

Me: *internal scream* “Yes, ma’am. Here at the register, online, or over the phone.” *gives her the corporate number* “Have a good night!”

Customer: “You too, sweetie. Sorry I yelled at you. It’s not your fault.”

Me: *to coworker* “At least she apologized.”

(She walked out to meet her husband. However, she spent the next 45 minutes bothering various workers in the store because she couldn’t find her phone. We called it and took her information down only for her to find it in her car.)

I work with kindergarten students with special needs. A majority of the students I work with are on the autism spectrum, and because this school is small, every staff member who has been around for a long while knows my students. The cafeteria staff is also well aware, and knows most of the students by name, especially kindergarteners.

I was in line with one of my girls on the spectrum, who normally is very self-sufficient and doesn’t need me one-on-one very often. I just happened to be with her for lunch due to my other students being out of school, or not in lunch at that time.

Lunch was hot dogs, with optional chili and optional cheese. Unbeknownst to me, students weren’t allowed to get cheese unless they had chili. My student only wanted cheese, so she poured some melted cheese onto the hotdog, just in time for the lunch lady to yell at her from across the room, “No chili, no cheese!”

My student started bawling for fear of being in trouble.

The lunch lady then took the hotdog off her plate and placed a plain one on it, mumbling about students not paying attention and wasting food.

I had another member of cafeteria staff make fun of one of my boys on the spectrum, who is self-sufficient and will get his own items, even if it means returning items an adult placed on his tray. When I mentioned that he had OCD, the staff member rolled her eyes and proceeded to mock him.

Both students were six years old at the time of these stories.

Sometimes, I have to remind myself that prison orange is not my color and that these students need me more.