I worked in a store just off a major interstate in Michigan. We had a HUGE winter storm coming through. We hadn’t had any customers in hours, so we closed fifteen minutes early. The lights were off, and cash was being counted.

Out of nowhere, a customer ran to the door and began pounding on it like she was on fire.

Customer: “I need a yard of batting for snow for my Christmas village! I drove through the storm and almost crashed on [Interstate] for this! Please sell me some batting!”

She wouldn’t give up, even though the registers were shut down. She spent $1.05 in cash and then risked her neck back home.

I’m a man. When I was still in training in retail, this guy came up to my female coworker and me and asked me a question, even though I was very clearly new and very confused about everything.

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t know.” *To my coworker* “Do you know?”

She did, and she answered the man’s question.

Man: “What a good little girl!”

I was in a store looking at makeup, and some poor confused man stood there looking, too, for a while. Eventually, he turned to me.

Man: “What the heck is foundation, and where can I find it?”

I pointed him in the right direction.

Man: “Screw it.”

He just grabbed a random one. I’m sure his wife or girlfriend probably wasn’t happy with his choice. He didn’t even look at the different shades.

While I’m helping a neighboring department stock freight, a very young boy — three years old tops — walks up to me, all alone, and smiles

Boy: “Hi. Are you wearing underwear today?”

I immediately think of potty training, as the little kids’ clothing department begins two aisles away. I smile back.

Me: “Hi. I put them on when I got dressed this morning, so yes, I am. What is your name, and where is Mommy?”

That is when Mommy comes running from around the corner, apologizing like crazy. I laugh and respond with a big smile.

Me: “No worries. We must be potty training?”

Mommy confirms this is true, and, taking her little guy by the hand, begins walking back over toward the little kids’ clothing department.

Mother: “Now, sweetie, you cannot be walking up to strangers and asking questions like that.”

I missed the rest of the conversation as I was too busy trying to not burst out laughing too loudly.

I work at a big store and have been there for almost a year now. Forty-five minutes before my shift ends, I begin putting stuff away and cleaning up. By the way I am dressed, it’s extremely clear that I’m employed here. I have my headset on which has a visible wire across my chest, a lanyard with a portable phone attached, my name tag, etc.

A regular comes up next to me — an older woman who I’d had interactions with before. They’re not necessarily pleasant but nothing terrible and usually brief. She loudly starts complaining about how awful the store is due to us changing the layout (over a year ago, before I even started working there).

Regular: “This store just sucks now, doesn’t it? I can’t ever find things now since they’ve moved everything. Like, look at this; it just looks awful.”

She takes a good look at me.

Regular: “Oh, you work here?”

I know for a fact she knew I was an employee and just wanted to get a rise out of me by complaining about the store. Out of all the customers around us, she picked me to complain to? While I was visibly working? In my uniform? Obviously, I’m not hurt by her comment; it’s not my company and I don’t get paid enough to care.

Me: “Yes, I do work here. I’m sorry that you feel like you can never find anything.”

Before I can offer to help her, she interrupts.

Regular: *Rudely* “How long have you been working here?”

Me: “Ten months.”

She just starts complaining about the store again, mostly to herself but directing her complaints toward me.

Me: “I can look up whatever you need.”

She ignores me, still complaining about how she cannot find a specific item. I can’t pull the item out of thin air, and I have no clue what exactly she wants.

Me: “Come over to the desk so I can look it up.”

I didn’t say it with a tone, I was polite, and the customer service desk is not even eight feet away from the spot where we’re standing.

The woman steps back with a shocked look on her face.

Regular: “You’d better find someone else to help me because I don’t like your attitude. You’re very rude. Like, who do you think you are? Telling me to come over to the desk? Why do I have to come to you?”

She then laughed to herself out of disgust. I said, “Okay,” and removed myself from her sight.

I was genuinely so confused because I could not have handled that situation differently. I don’t like confrontation, so I didn’t approach her rudely or act like I didn’t want to help her. It was awkward because so many people started staring. I asked over the headset for someone else to help her and walked upstairs.

While I was there, I noticed she was with someone from the receiving room who walked her over to the upstairs customer service desk and they looked up what she needed together. I was just in disbelief; I felt so incompetent. What was so wrong with me, and why was what he was doing different than what I offered? I went into the breakroom so she wouldn’t see me and told my managers about what happened. I started crying as soon as they asked me if I was all right.

Customers have screamed in my face, threatened to call the police on me, licked money during the height of the health crisis and slammed it into my hand — you name it. But this one interaction sent me over the edge. I don’t even know why.