A group of friends and I are into the alternative fashion style — big boots, Gothic dresses, lace, and corsets. We go into a popular high street store as I am getting married and we need some classy, normal-style dresses for bridesmaid dresses.

As soon as we walk into the shop, we are watched by a member of the staff who stands glaring at us from the counter. Whenever we pick up a dress to look at it, she moves closer to us, glaring. Keep in mind that there are six in the group in different sizes all looking to get the same style of dress. She doesn’t offer to help, stops other staff from helping us, and just stands there glaring.

We find dresses in the same style that can fit all six and go and ask to try them on. She snatches the dresses from our hands says, “These won’t suit you or even fit, and I doubt you can afford them, either.” These dresses cost £75 each and there are six of us. I am paying for them all and in cash. I was prepared to pay out over £500 for all of the dresses, so I have this cash on me.

I pulled the cash out, show the staff member, and say, “You mean this money?” Her whole attitude changes and she becomes very helpful. We all exchange a look. I say, “Because of your poor customer service we have changed our mind,” and we just walk out, leaving her to put away six dresses. If she had been nicer and less suspicious of us, she would have made a big sale.

I sometimes answer questions on a popular website where users can ask or answer questions. I’ve only answered a few so far. One evening, I answer a question somebody has regarding any support for autistic children. One of my children is autistic, so I share links to as many charities and organisations as I can and offer advice based on my experience.

The next morning, I wake up to a lot of email notifications from the site. I don’t usually get many responses, so I check it out.

It turns out somebody made the following reply in the night:

“Hmm. I’m not sure whether anyone can take any of your advice seriously. In one post, you’re a student. In this one, you have an autistic daughter, but in another, you claim to have a son? There’s also the post where you claim to be an accountant. If you’re going to lie, at least be consistent. People here actually need help. Go lie somewhere else.”

Apparently, the idea of a mature student with two children, who used to be an accountant, is too much for them, I guess.

On my way back to the office after going to grab a tea and some food, I decided to take the underground route as opposed to going the outside route. I was on the escalator going down watching two ladies at the bottom. The up escalator was off for maintenance and blocked off so we were required to take the stairs.

The two women stood at the bottom looking rather confused. Finally, one of them moved forward, walked up a couple steps, stopped and looked around, and turned to the other and asked, “Why is it not moving?” Her friend, looking equally perplexed, shrugged her shoulders in response.

One of the women looked at me for a moment as I turned my gaze to the clearly out of service escalator on the other side. She followed my gaze and it suddenly dawned on her. She looked at the other woman and exclaimed, “Oh, it’s broken; that’s why it’s not moving,” and proceeded to run up the stairs. The other one looked around and said, “Well, it should be more clearly marked!”

I am the assistant manager at an Irish theme pub. It’s a busy Friday night and everything is going well. I decide to order pizza for myself and the rest of the staff, as we’ve all been on shift for quite a while and it’s starting to quieten down enough for us to relax slightly before we close.

Just after I get off the phone, there is a tremendous sound of smashing glass from the lower bar. I stick my head around the corner to see a huge hole now in one of our massive plate glass windows that face the street. The customers who are in the bar are all looking shocked, and some are covered in glass, so I quickly work out that somebody broke it from the outside in, so a coworker and I run out into the street to try and find the culprit.

I follow a trail of blood across the street and find a middle-aged couple, both pretty drunk. The woman has huge gashes in her arm from where it went through the window, and she is bleeding pretty heavily. I quickly send my coworker back to the bar to grab a roll of paper towels to hold the poor woman’s arm together while I ring an ambulance.

The whole time, the woman is saying she’s fine and that she just wants to go back to her hotel, despite the fact she has an arterial bleed pulsing out of her forearm. The man says nothing at all, apart from offering me a cigarette.

After a long wait, a mobile paramedic turns up and starts asking questions, not actually helping that much, while his colleague watches. All this time, I am still trying to keep this drunk woman’s arm from falling apart.

Eventually, he rings for an actual ambulance, and I suddenly feel a very insistent tap on my shoulder.

I turn, keeping my grip on the woman’s arm, to see a pizza delivery guy trying to hand me a stack of pizzas. It turns out he’d gone into the bar to drop them off, and apparently insisted on giving them to the name on the order. When the other staff had told him where I was, he’d come out to find me.

When I tell him to go back to the bar and that they will pay him from the till, he just keeps repeating the total price at me and trying to balance the pizzas on my already rather occupied arms. Finally, the other paramedic takes over holding the woman’s arm together, and I have my hands free. The pizza guy dumps the stack of pizzas into my blood-covered arms, takes some money off my coworker who has come out to help, and leaves without a word. That leaves me covered in blood, tired, not a little annoyed, and holding five large pizzas in the middle of the road at midnight on a Friday night.

We later discovered that the woman had got into an argument with her husband while walking past our pub, tried to punch him in the face, and missed, putting her fist through the window.

It’s my first day working at a very small office. I don’t really have a specific role; I just do whatever is needed. My boss asks me to make a “shopping list” with all the office supplies we’ll need during the month, and their respective prices taken from the stores’ websites. I present a list of $208 worth of items. 

The next day, my boss takes the list but goes to a completely different store that I hadn’t considered in my research, and ends up buying other things. Between these discrepancies and some sales, her total spending comes up to… $208.10. She laughed and said she should’ve taken me to the casino for good luck.