(I have volunteered at a kids’ carnival in my town for the last 15 years, since I was a kid myself. I have never had issues and I am always hard-working, despite a lack of people helping each and every year. It runs about four hours long, but it makes me happy to just help out. I am running the putt-putt golf game; basically, you shoot the ball into the hole from two feet away. Kids of any age can play. I am supplied the clubs and foam balls. This lady comes up and gives me her ticket and her kid plays. He doesn’t make it in, but I give him a prize, anyway. The mom is livid and she rips the club out of the kid’s hand.)

Kid’s Mom: “What the f***?! Are you trying to kill my kid here with these iron clubs?!”

Me: “Ma’am, it’s plastic, and please stop yelling.”

Kid’s Mom: “F*** you! You’re trying to kill my kid!”

(She starts yelling and swinging the club, brushing my arm.)

Kid’s Mom: “I’m calling my husband to bring new clubs here!”

(And like that, she takes the clubs from the game and storms off. I have to go explain to the event chief what she has done and that I cant run the game. If that wasn’t bad enough, a police officer comes up to me:)

Officer: “Are you the one running the golf game?”

(When I say yes, he puts me in handcuffs!)

Officer: “You’re being arrested for endangering a child, and groping a child and their mother.”

Me: *livid* “I have witnesses!”

Officer: “It’s your word versus hers.”

(She was distraught and crying right then to the officer’s partner. Thank God there were cameras in the school and it recorded everything to show I was right. The police said she was not going to be punished for this; that it was just an honest mistake. Since this happened, the school does not want me back, just in case, because of this woman and her complaint… all because she didn’t like the clubs I was supplied. Furthermore, I got charged for those clubs, since they did not get returned.)

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(I’ve just sent out an order of pasta that’s typically served with sauce on top and just a sprinkle of fresh parmesan. My boss, who is the waitress this day, returns with it just a moment later, huffily stuffs it in a baking dish, and covers it with mozzarella cheese.)

Me: “What’s wrong?”

Boss: “She says she always gets it baked with cheese on top.”

(She begins to put it in the oven.)

Me: “Did she ask for it like that? I could have made it like that.”

Boss: “No, she says this is just the way it comes and she’s always gotten it like that.”

Me: “I’ve never served it like that. I don’t think I’ve ever even had someone ask for it like that.”

(I work no less than four or five days a week, and two of them are double shifts, so I’m almost always there.)

Boss: “Well, that’s what she said!”

(She pulls it out of the oven and re-plates it.)

Me: “Hmm… Well, be sure to ask her what days she normally comes in so we can ‘yell’ at whoever has been making it wrong this whole time.”

Boss: *chuckles* “Okay!”

(She returns a few moments later.)

Boss: “Now she’s changed her story to, ‘A good friend recommended the dish to her and told her that was the way it came and she was confused.’”

Me: “Uh-huh, I’m sure.”

(I am taking a constitutional law class, and the professor is discussing equal protection and how the Constitution was used to end segregation.)

Professor: “So, this case involved a coffee shop, called the Eagle, that wouldn’t serve black customers. According to the Interstate commerce clause, private businesses can’t discriminate. However, the Evil coffee shop continued to racially discriminate…”

Class: *laughing*

Professor: “What’s funny? I’m trying to teach!”

Student: “But you called it the ‘Evil’ shop!”

Professor: “Really? Freudian slip, I guess. Anyway, the Eagle coffee shop discriminated… stop laughing! Segregation is evil!”

(I work at a retail store that occasionally sells contract cell phones. Security is always a big concern with these phones, considering the phones are essentially sold on a loan and could cause significant credit issues, making this department unique compared to the rest of the store. Today, someone came up to my coworker to buy one, and I was called over as he hasn’t had any training on contracts.)

Me: “Hi, you’re looking to get a phone today? Can I just see your ID?”

Customer: *hands over his ID*

(As soon as I see the ID, I know we can’t accept it. Several small bits around the edges are broken off, there’s enough cracks that I could probably rip it in half without even trying, and the entire section of plastic over the photo is missing. Worse, it looks like the photo is printed on a separate slip of paper that was once glued in place, and now the edges of the photo are peeling off.)

Me: “I’m sorry; I can’t take this. It’s a damaged ID.”

Customer: “I have my papers here, too. Can you take those?”

Me: “No, I need a valid photo ID. Those don’t have a photo.”

Customer: “But I have one here. Why can’t I use this?”

Me: “I need a valid photo ID, and if your ID is damaged to this degree, it’s not valid any more.”

Customer: “But it was just in my pocket.”

(The customer then left, saying he’d be back tomorrow. Something tells me I won’t be seeing him.)

(I work at a home and kitchen supply store.)

Customer: “Excuse me, can I see your flexible cutting boards?”

Me: “Sure!” *I hand her one of our flex boards* “This side with the grid is the grip side, and you cut on the other side, right here.”

Customer: “But that’ll get cut up. There will be marks on it.”

Me: “Well, it is a cutting board.”

Customer: “But there will be knife marks all over it. It will get all marked up!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, but the boards are designed to be cut on. There may be some marks on the board after use, but you’re not going to cut through it, and it’s designed to protect both your knife and your countertops.”

Customer: *turns to leave* “No, I don’t want one of those! There will be knife marks! It will get cut up!”