I was getting my hair cut a while ago, and an older woman popped her head into the shop and asked:

Customer: “How long is the wait for a walk-in?”

The lady cutting my hair said, while pointing at my head:

Salon Employee: “I’m cutting his hair right now, so about thirty minutes.”

She was the only worker currently in the shop.

Customer: “Oh. Well, how long will the wait be if my husband also gets his hair cut?”

Salon Employee: “…It’ll still be thirty minutes; I have to finish this job first.”

Customer: “But there are two of us!”

Salon Employee: “And there’s just one of me, so the time doesn’t change. Unless you’re expecting me to just throw this guy out of the shop mid-haircut and jump on this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to give two haircuts instead of one?”

The other customer pops her head out in a huff, and she has to pause cutting my hair for a moment while I laugh.

I’m a 5’4″ man. A customer walks over to me.

Customer: “I need help getting something down from a top shelf. Can you get someone?”

Me: “I can get that for you.”

Customer: *Snorts.* “Sorry, but you? I meant, go find someone who reached full height.”

Me: “I was going to get a step-up platform.”

Customer: “It must be nice for you to stand on that and see what the world looks like from a normal person.”

I don’t engage and simply ask the customer where the item is that they need. I get the little platform and step up to fetch it. As I hand it over, the customer tries egging me on one more time:

Customer: “Don’t fall on your way down.”

Me: “I could fall through the floor, and I still wouldn’t be down on your level.”

Their angry face was satisfying to see, but not as much as the face they made when they demanded a manager, and I reintroduced myself.

A friend and I (both girls) were at a video game store just browsing and hanging out. An employee comes up to us.

Employee: “Do you need help finding anything?”

Me: “No, thank you, we’re just looking.”

Employee: “Have you seen the new Nintendo DS XL’s?”

The Nintendo DS XL has just come out.

Employee: “They’re the best handhelds, and more suitable for games that girls enjoy!”

Friend: “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Employee: “I mean, uh… well…”

Me: *Giving the guy an ‘out’ of this conversation.* “No, thank you. We’ve never been into handheld games.”

Amazingly, despite my giving this dude an easy way out of the conversation, he doubles down.

Employee: “Oh, but they really are very good!”

Me: “I said we’re not interested.”

Employee: “But they have newer, bigger four-inch screens!”

Friend: “You’re not the first guy to try to convince me that four inches is impressive.”

That was the end of his sales pitch.

I’m shopping at an electronics shop when a fire alarm goes off. The employees start ferrying customers out of the store, instructing us to leave our stuff behind. A crowd forms in the parking lot, fire trucks show up, and I think I see smoke. This place could not more obviously be “danger, do not go in” if it tried. 

I’m sitting on a concrete divider in the lot, checking other local stores to see if any of them have what I was looking for, and I notice someone approaching the entrance and being stopped by the employees.

Stranger: “Move it, a**hole.”

Employee #1: “Dude, what the h*** is wrong with you?”

Stranger: “I’m trying to shop here!”

Employee #1: “Does the fire truck with lights on not convey that people are not allowed in right now?”

Stranger: “I’m not seeing any sign saying you’re closed, smart-a**. Move it, and let me—”

Employee #2: “—Why do you want to die?”

Stranger: “What the f***?”

Employee #2: *Slower.* “Why… do… you… want… to… die?”

Stranger: “Who the f*** said I want to die?”

Employee #2: “Well, you’re trying to enter a building that we have every reason to believe is on fire, insulting the people who are pointing out that fact to you, and acting like a lack of signage means you should be allowed to endanger your life, so… if you don’t want to die, what’s your excuse for the lack of self-preservation?”

[Stranger] was quiet, and then turned and stormed away.

In the UK, the majority of police officers are not armed, and in fact don’t have much formal gun training. For those who do want to be AFOs (Authorised Firearms Officers), they have to undergo special training, part of which I am overseeing. 

The new trainees have reached the stage where they’re firing live weapons at a gun range, shooting the standard circular targets. One of the trainees is not doing as well as the others.

We’re overseeing his target, and the lack of accuracy is apparent.

Officer: “Okay, be brutally honest. How bad am I?”

Me: “Well, the good news is you have a promising career ahead of you… as a Galactic Imperial Stormtrooper.”

Officer: “…Ouch.”