Thirty years ago, I was working in a pretty well-known American bookstore in Paris. A customer comes in one day looking for a specific book. So far, nothing out of the ordinary.

Me: “What’s the name of the book?”

Customer: “I can’t remember.”

Me: “What’s it about?”

Customer: “I just remember the colour of the cover: white and red. It talks about politics, but for the life of me, I cannot remember the name of the author!”

We found the book.

It was “Primary Colors”… by Anonymous.

I was working at Disneyland Paris, in one of the stores outside of the parks. An old lady, visibly a little confused, was wandering around. With a colleague, I asked if she needed help. She wanted to buy toys for her grandkids, and it was pretty clear she had a somewhat mild yet concerning case of Alzheimer’s.

The store was fairly quiet, so my colleague and I took almost half an hour to decipher how many grandkids she had and what they liked. She was extremely pleasant and nice all the way through, just confused and slow. She bought a few hundred euros in toys and thanked us profusely.

It was awesome by itself, but a day or so afterward, my colleague and I both got called into the manager’s office to get congratulated. The lady was the mother of one of the highest corporate employees, and she couldn’t stop talking about the nice girls who helped her. That felt extra awesome!

I am on vacation in France. I am attempting to board the RER (Réseau Express Régional). A much older man is standing in the doorway to the train, blocking it. He is on his phone. The train car is mostly empty.

Me: “S’il vous plait, monsieur, allez-vous.”

No response, not even a twitch.

Me: “Allez-vous, monsieur, vous-etez dans la porte!”

No response.

There is a line behind me. Maybe he doesn’t speak French?

Me: “Please move, sir.”

No response.

The door chimes, and I’ve had it.

Me: “Move your a**! The door is closing!”

No response. The door closed on my rear, pushing me forward. I stumbled into the man, knocking him to the floor.

I found a seat and sat in it to take care of my butt. The man proved he spoke French by calling the transit police.

They questioned the man and me, and then they let me go with a card to present to a doctor for medical expenses if I wanted to have my butt checked out. The man was given a fine for blocking the door.

I’m an American student studying abroad in Paris, France. I am lining up outside the famous Notre Dame cathedral. Behind me are a couple of other American tourists, two bougie girls who speak in that stereotypical “valley girl” accent.

Girl #1: “Why is that sign asking us to cover our shoulders?!”

Girl #2: “Yeah, it’s not like this place is a church or something!”

I roll my eyes, pay my entry fee, and walk into the place. I am admiring the amazing architecture. I assume the valley girls behind me are doing the same, as I overhear quite loudly:

Girl #2: “OMG, it is a church!”

Our state-sponsored health system, like plenty of services, has scammers who send fake emails coming from it to get people to give their personal information. One of the more frequent ones, which also makes it among those for which warnings are given by all channels available, are emails claiming that the personal card associated with it needs to be renewed.

While checking her email on her phone while in a park, my mother brain-farts her way into falling for the scam instead of deleting the email as she usually does. About ten minutes after she provides the scam with her credit card information, she gets a call.

Caller: “Hello, I’m from [Bank]. Are you in [City on the other side of the country]?”

Mother: “No.”

Caller: “Your card got charged there for [list of at least three different transactions].”

This is about the point at which my mother clicks that she has fallen for a scam.

Mother: “You don’t sound like the person who usually calls from [Bank].”

Caller: “I’m from the fraud department. Now, I’m going to walk you through using the [Bank] app to block your credit card.”

Mother: “I just gave a scammer my credit card information. I’m out of the house right now and I’d rather go home to block the card from the [Bank] website.”

After this, the caller kept insisting that she let them walk her through using the app to block her card immediately. She eventually gave them a firm “no,” hung up, and returned home to get things taken care of via her usual bank contact information. The insistence that she immediately use the app aside, several small details noticed in hindsight strongly hinted toward the caller being part of the scam but not ready to deal with someone newly on guard about sharing personal information.