I’m ushering one night. We’re the ones who clean the theaters after every show and do other cleaning and maintenance work. I decide to go into a theater and wait with my broom and sanitizing spray while the movie finishes up. Like most theaters, we have garbage cans in the back of the auditorium and outside for people to dispose of their garbage.

The movie ends, the lights go up, and the hundred-and-fifty or so people begin to file out, throwing out their trash as they walk by. I’m giving them friendly nods and saying, “Have a nice night!” as they walk by.

Suddenly, one guy looks at me, looks down at the popcorn and drink he’s carrying… and simply tosses them on the floor next to me, spilling popcorn and soda everywhere. I’m dumbfounded. He walks by without saying a word, chuckling to himself.

The person behind him who saw what he did looks at me and then down at the spilled popcorn and drink, and then he shrugs and tosses his garbage on top of them.

Me: “Um, please do not do that! There are garbage cans right behind me.”

The second person walks by without making eye contact. The next person behind them who witnessed this then does the exact same thing.

I address the crowd and try to remain friendly.

Me: “All right, everyone! Please do not throw your trash on a pile next to me! There are garbage cans right behind me!”

It doesn’t work. Person after person begins to throw their trash into the pile next to me, with me telling each of them to not do it… and them just sort of doing it. Within seconds, popcorn is piled high and soda is saturating the entire carpet next to me.

Becoming increasingly angry, I address the crowd again.

Me: “Everyone! Please stop throwing your trash in this pile! DO NOT DO IT! There are garbage cans literally right behind me!”

It continues. I’ve had enough, so I physically walk in front of the pile in an attempt to stop it. And people respond by starting a second pile next to me.

Me: *Furious* “EVERYONE, STOP THROWING GARBAGE ON THE FLOOR! DO NOT DO IT! I HAVE TO CLEAN THIS THEATER FOR THE NEXT SHOW!”

People didn’t listen and continued. I was practically begging each person to stop, and they just wouldn’t listen. By the time everyone was out, there were popcorn buckets and spilled popcorn piled up to my knees, several dozen soda and slushy cups spilled all over the carpet, crunched up nachos and pretzels, and basically every other snack we sell. I had never been so angry in my life.

It ended up taking an extra twenty minutes to clean it all up since I had to sanitize and soak up all the spilled drinks and methodically sweep up all the popcorn, on top of the fifteen minutes it took to clean the rest of the theater. People weren’t able to go into the next screening until less than five minutes before the showtime… by which point, of course, there was a huge crowd of people who were very angry they couldn’t go in.

This happened several years ago, when I was working for a clothing store in a mall. The store I worked for had a sort of cashback system where you earned coupons with your purchase, and you could then use those coupons during a specific time period for great deals. When that time period was approaching, the store would advertise it coming up to get customers hyped and all that.

Weirdly, the corporate entities that be insisted on an actual human, working a physical location, sitting down and calling every single customer that had been in the store and earned any kind of reward. The lists were easily over 100 pages long and it would take multiple shifts across a week for our store to get the whole thing.

I was in the backroom. My shift was hours of calling people and either leaving a voicemail to tell them their current amount in rewards or actually speaking to the person who answered. I dialed in the next number and got their voicemail greeting.

Me: “Hi! This is [My Name] at [Store], letting you know that [Coupon Sale] is coming on [dates]. You currently have—” 

Cue a large, forceful (and honestly, beautiful) burp ripping out of my gut. I couldn’t help it; I started cracking up. I managed to finish the voicemail, apologized profusely for the kind of voicemail they were getting, and hung up. 

Nothing bad ever happened, and no one called back or mentioned an employee burping into their voicemail, but man, I kind of wish I could have been a fly on the wall when that particular voicemail was heard.

I work in a hotel. I am covering the front desk while the front desk person finishes delivering lunch stuff. A lady comes in. The check-in goes fine, and as I’m handing her the keycard, she sees the front desk person bringing back the trolly with a couple of dirty dishes, etc.

On one of the plates is a cinnamon bun. The guest points to the bun.

Guest: “Can I have that bun?”

I’m alarmed that she’s about to take a bun off an obviously dirty plate.

Me: “Ma’am, that’s a dirty plate!”

Guest: “Yeah, but they didn’t touch the bun. It’s fine.”

Me: “I can’t let you, unfortunately.”

Guest: “Can I have a fresh one, then?”

Me: “That comes with the breakfast package, and you’ll get a fresh one tomorrow. They’re great.”

Guest: “Isn’t there another one I can have?”

Me: “We bring them in fresh each morning, one per guest, so we don’t have anymore, I’m afraid. But the cafe that bakes them is about twenty steps from here, and sometimes they’ll have stuff still available, but they’re often sold out because they’re so good!”

Guest: “You’re going to eat that bun as soon as I leave, aren’t you?”

Me: “I assure you, ma’am, I’m not.”

The guest leaves angry that I won’t let her eat a garbage cinnamon bun.

Fast forward to a couple of days later at checkout time. I get a call from the front desk as a customer wants to escalate a complaint about an employee. I head to the desk, and there is the cinnamon bun lady.

Me: “Hi, ma’am, I can speak with you over here.”

I direct her to speak with me in the waiting area.

Me: “I’m very sorry you’ve had a bad experience. Can you tell me more about it so I can make things right?”

Guest: “When I checked in, your employee wouldn’t let me have one of those free cinnamon buns and was very rude about it.”

I blink a couple of times and then it dawns on me; she has forgotten it was me. I don’t quite believe she doesn’t recognize me.

Me: “Can you tell me what they looked like?”

She describes the “rude employee” as having grey hair (yes!) and glasses (nope), being tall (the complete opposite), and not even being in uniform! (Management has a different dress code and I feel like that’s the norm?)

Guest: “How do I know that wasn’t someone just stealing my information?”

Me: “All right, I have their description. Did that person give you a working key card?”

Guest: “Yeah.”

Me: “They would have to enter a functioning staff number to program your card, so I can assure you that was an employee.”

Guest: “Well, do you know who that is?”

I still don’t this woman is being serious.

Me: “…yes.”

Guest: “Can you make sure she’s not allowed to be rude anymore? People won’t come back when you have staff like that. I’m going to leave a review and forward it to your boss.”

I still can’t quite believe she didn’t know it was me, but regardless, I can’t imagine getting this angry over me not letting you eat food off a stranger’s plate. Like… how are you not dead?

She emailed my boss her “review,” and was immediately clear that she was just extremely angry that I told her “no”.

CONTENT WARNING: Sexual Harassment

I’m working at a big box store, wandering the aisles to adjust product placements and see what items need to be restocked. I turn the corner into one aisle and see two people: a young woman, in her late teens or early twenties, browsing, and a middle-aged man who is very obviously leering at her while rubbing his hand against his crotch through his jeans. The woman is not aware of the man’s presence.

Me: *Practically shouting* “Dude, that’s disgusting!”

The man laughs and disappears around the corner of the aisle.

Me: *To the young woman* “I’m sorry about that, miss.”

Woman: “What happened?”

Me: “Well… to be blunt, he was watching you and touching himself.”

Woman: *Rolling her eyes* “Gee, what else is new. Thanks for stopping him.”

Me: “You’re welcome. I’ll try to get him banned from the store, but I have to go through my manager for that. Anyway, enjoy your shopping. If you need any help, please ask me or any other employee.”

I headed straight to my manager to alert him of the creepy guy, but he claimed that since the guy never harassed the woman “directly” — basically, since he never did anything to get the woman’s attention — there was nothing he or the store could do about it.

As a middle-aged man myself, who was raised to respect women, this was the first time I realized just how prevalent this sort of casual harassment is. I expected the young woman to get upset or be embarrassed or something, but to see her pretty much blow the whole thing off as just another part of life was honestly kind of heartbreaking.

I’m a born and raised city girl. The bank branch I’m working at is in the middle of the country. One day, a customer walks in with two buckets, drops them on our floor, and announces:

Customer #1: “FREE CORN!”

My supervisor and coworker come running out and start picking these GIANT ears of corn out of one of the buckets. I stare at both in confusion.

Customer #1: *Gestures to me* “Are you new?”

Me: “I just transferred out here from [City].”

Customer #1: “Oh! Then you don’t know. During harvest season, I usually have extra sweet corn. I like to bring it to some of the businesses around town. You’d better grab some before these two take it all.”

My supervisor laughs.

Boss: “Guilty! Seriously, [My Name], it’s good. You’d better take some.”

I pick out a few ears, take them home, and eat them with my dinner. They are REALLY good — no missing kernels, no bugs. A few days later, [Customer #1] is in the branch, making a deposit. [Customer #2] walks in.

Customer #1: “So, what did you ladies think of the corn?”

Me: “It was fantastic.”

Coworker: “Great as always!”

Customer #1: “Glad to hear it! If I have any more extras, I’ll bring them over.”

[Customer #2] comes to my desk. He’s a regular and a little creepy.

Customer #2: “You like sweet corn?”

Coworker: “Sure! We love it.”

Customer #2: “My nephew grows it, too, and I’m sure he’d be happy to send some to a pretty girl.”

He’s still staring at me.

Me: “I’m sure we’d all enjoy it.”

Coworker: “That’s right, we would.”

Customer #2: “I’ll bring it over later.”

He does just that. It’s not as pretty as [Customer #1]’s, but we still take some to be polite. I take it home and start shucking it. Out pop several large and LIVE winged bugs. I shriek and launch it into the trash. I douse the area in cleaner, double-bag the garbage bag, and take the bag outside. The next day, [Customer #2] returns.

Customer #2: “So, what did you think of my nephew’s corn?”

Coworker: “I haven’t tried it yet.”

I pretend to be very engrossed in my computer. Unfortunately…

Customer #2: “And what did you think, [My Name]?”

Me: “Uh… well, I had to throw it out. There were large bugs in mine.”

Customer #2: “Oh, that’s normal. Little extra protein. My nephew doesn’t use pesticides. That’s organic corn. I thought you prissy city girls liked that kind of stuff.”

Me: “City girls don’t like large winged bugs flying out of their food.”

[Customer #2] huffs and walks out.

Coworker: “…live bugs?”

Me: “Yep.”

Coworker: “I’m not eating that.”