(I’m driving my three-year-old daughter home after preschool. She’s very quiet and shy, especially around other kids.)

Me: “So, did anything interesting happen at school today?”

Daughter: “Yes.”

Me: “What happened?”

Daughter: “[Other Kid] pushed me.”

Me: “[Other Kid] pushed you?”

Daughter: “Yes.”

Me: “Where?”

Daughter: “In the wood chips.”

Me: “[Other Kid] pushed you in the wood chips?”

Daughter: “Yes.”

Me: “Did you fall down?”

Daughter: “Yes.”

Me: “Are you all right?”

Daughter: “Yes.”

Me: “Did you tell a teacher?”

Daughter: “Yes.”

Me: “Was it Ms. [Teacher]?”

Daughter: “Yes.”

Me: “Okay. Did she do anything about it?”

Daughter: “Yes.”

Me: “What did she do?”

Daughter: *suddenly loud and gleeful* “She grabbed [Other Kid] and taked his face off!”

(I have no idea what actually happened. My best guess is that my three-year-old was describing her fantasy vengeance instead of what the teacher really did. And the next time I saw [Other Kid], he still had a face.)

(I am at a hotel pool with some friends. A heavily pregnant woman is lounging in a chair near the pool, reading a book. She is wearing a bikini; you can see she has stretch marks on her stomach and legs, and her ankles and feet are swollen. A girl of about twenty walks by, then turns around and goes back, her face wrinkled in disgust.)

Girl: “Um, excuse me?”

Pregnant Woman: “Yes?”

Girl: “Why are you wearing a bikini? It’s kind of gross.”

Pregnant Woman: “I’m wearing a bikini because it’s summer and I want to. If you have a problem with my natural female form, feel free to f*** off.”

(Our window displays out in front of the window feature jewelry mixed in with fake candy. My coworker is in the back helping a customer design a new setting for some heirloom stones. I am in the front. A woman enters, her cell phone held in front of her, obviously filming me, a smirk on her face.)

Woman: “I would like to buy some candy.”

Me: “Uh, candy?”

Woman: “You show candy in your window. I want to buy some.”

Me: “I’m afraid that’s not for sale. In fact, it’s plastic; it’s just display.”

Woman: *getting louder* “So you WON’T sell me candy?”

Me: “I don’t have candy to sell.”

Woman: *triumphantly lowers her phone* “Ha! You know I can bring a lawsuit against you for false advertising! I’m going to sue this store for all its worth!”

(At this point, the customer emerges from the back room, smiling.)

Customer: “Ma’am, I truly hope you do try to sue this place. I’m Judge [Name], and I occasionally need a laugh from the bench. And that’s what I would do, laugh you out of the courtroom.”

(The woman turned red and sputtered out that she didn’t think he was a real judge. When he pulled out his card, she slunk out of the door. The judge laughed and shared with us a few stories of crazy lawsuits he had seen, while my coworker finished designing the new piece. The store owner has promised to donate to his re-election campaign.)

(I lifeguard at a local pool, and one of the rules we have to enforce is no long breath-holding. The reason is that the patrons can look dead. Usually it’s not enforced because the kids are clearly still alive, but not in this case. I notice a woman lying face-down in the water, completely motionless. As I watch her, wondering if she’s unconscious, she sits back up. I hop out of the chair, and walk over to her.)

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am, but I’m afraid you can’t lie face-down in the water like that.”

Woman: “Why?”

Me: “Because from the lifeguard’s perspective you could be drowning.”

Woman: “No, if I was drowning I’d be more relaxed. That’s how you can tell I’m not drowning; I’m not relaxed enough.”

Me: “Well, you looked pretty relaxed from where I was, and I couldn’t properly tell, so—”

Woman: “No, I wasn’t relaxed enough. If I was drowning I’d be all relaxed. Trust me. My friend’s a lifeguard; he knows all about this stuff.”

Me: *wearing my guard shorts, shirt, fanny pack, and whistle, and carrying the rescue tube* “Well, be that as it may, it’s still the rule, so if you didn’t do it anymore, I’d appreciate it.”

(She did stop, or at least, until I rotated out from that chair.)

(I am a plus-size female in my 20s, and I work at a thrift shop where I’m often the only person working the front of the store in the mornings. I check out an elderly man who is just buying a single chair. It’s heavily marked down and displayed on the sidewalk because it’s the last one of the set. The chair is part wicker and part metal, and while it’s heavier than you’d expect, it’s still completely manageable. It’s also comfortable outside, but I have trouble regulating body temperature, so I’m visibly sweaty.)

Me: “Thanks for shopping with us and supporting our mission. Have a good one!”

Customer: “Sweetie, you’ve been great. I’ll be sure to ask for you next time. Now, can someone help an old man get a chair into his car?”

Me: “Absolutely. If you pull your car up to the curb, I can help with that, no problem. It’s pretty slow right now, so I can step away from the register.”

Customer: “Oh, no, I don’t want you out there! It’s far too warm, and I can’t let you do that to yourself! And besides… Well, anyway, just call someone else, sweetheart.”

Me: “It’s really no trouble, sir. I can probably get you loaded and out of here before someone in the back could even get out here.”

(In the end, he flat-out refused my help, though he was still very sweet about it. I called someone, and after helping him, my coworker reassured me that he was just very old-fashioned but completely meant well. It’s the first time something like this has happened to me, but I’m sure it won’t be the last. I’m mostly laughing it off because not only am I the one who put the chair outside that morning, but I lifted two of them at once and carried them from the back of the store on my first day working there about a month ago!)