(One teacher sends drug dogs to do a search at my high school. I have undiagnosed autism and bipolar disorder. The mere idea of anyone, even a dog, touching my backpack is enough to freak me out for days. My mom is also a teacher there.)

Mom: “Don’t worry. The dogs didn’t actually sniff anything. It was just practice.”

Me: *pulls out my breakfast* “Well, someone licked the cream cheese on my bagel.”

(My mom continued to insist no one had been in the bags. I got another breakfast.)

(I’m a college student who still lives at home and works part-time as a book-shelver. I keep my work and personal lives separate. One day, my mom appears at my library, and I’m totally immersed in work-mode and caught off-guard by her surprise visit.)

Mom: “Hi!”

Me: “O-oh, hi.”

Mom: *angry* “What?! Aren’t you happy to see me?”

Me: “That’s not it. It’s just that I don’t have time to talk right now, and I already took my break—“

Mom: “You can’t talk to your own mother?”

Me: “We can always talk later, but I’m working right now.”

Mom: “Fine. If you’re going to be like that, then help me find [Book].”

Me: “Okay. So if you go to the reference desk—“

Mom: “Why are you passing me off?! You don’t want to help me?!”

Me: “I don’t know the call number… y’know, the label on the spine? But they can look it up at the reference desk, and then I can help you find it.”

Mom: “Look it up there!” *she points to the patron computers*

Me: “Um… I’m really not allowed to do that. It’s outside of my job description and could get me in trouble.”

Mom: “Ugh, forget it! I don’t know WHY you’re treating me like this!”

(While the bad work experience was partly my own fault, the worst part is that it followed me home! I had to deal with my mom’s passive-aggressive comments about this incident for a long time.)

(I used to work for a relatively popular video rental chain prior to it going out of business. I am pulling up my own account to see if I am about to have an overdue rental of my own. A customer in her late-40s or early-50s has been browsing the rentals.)

Customer: *approaches my coworker with a sealed new movie* “Hi, I’d like to buy this.”

Coworker: “Yes, ma’am, no problem. Just to let you know, we do have extremely high-quality used versions of this exact movie, and for what you’re paying for it new, you could get three used movies.”

Customer: “Oh, no, I don’t buy used movies.”

Coworker: “That’s understandable. Sometimes the quality of the DVD isn’t what you’d hoped, scratches, yadda ya.”

Customer: “Oh, no, not that. I just don’t want my DVD player to get a virus.”

(At this point, I stop what I’m doing, because I cannot possibly have heard that. I turn my head just a bit to look at her. Customer has the most serious expression I’ve ever seen, and my coworker is currently trying to see if she’s being legitimate.)

Coworker: “DVD… viruses?”

Customer: “Yes, like computer viruses. You don’t know what sort of nastiness people let get into their DVD player, and I don’t want mine getting corrupted by anything!”

(At this point, I have to turn away from the register I’m on, because I’m about to start chuckling, and I would prefer not to be rude. I busy myself with the rental drop box while my coworker continues the struggle.)

Coworker: “…absolutely, ma’am. Those DVD viruses can be an absolute hassle, and you’re doing well to keep yourself protected.”

(He finishes ringing her up as I finally get myself in check.)

Coworker: “You have a wonderful day, ma’am.”

Customer: “You too, young man!”

(She leaves. We just look at each other.)

Me: “If I hadn’t been here, I’d never believe this.”