I am babysitting my two-year-old niece one morning while her parents are at work. While we’re sitting there, watching cartoons, my phone rings with a number I don’t recognize, but it says it’s local. I rarely answer the phone for numbers I don’t recognize, but as I’ve been putting out a lot of job applications lately, I decide to risk it.

I answer and am greeted with a robot saying that I’m being contacted about my tremendous credit card debt, and how legal action is being prepared against me. They ask if I would like to talk to a collections officer about it. I select to talk to a real person and get a man on the line.

I proceed to ask him to remove my number from his list, because I don’t have a credit card, and I have never had a credit card.

He responds with “Hey, how about you come down here, and I’ll give you $20 to suck my d**k?”

I freeze up in a case of “Is this really happening?” and stare at my phone. After a moment, I finally manage to come up with a response of “Only if you suck mine first, sweetie.”

Never had someone hang up so fast in my life. I went back to watching Peppa Pig with my niece.

(I’m a personal banker. One of the tellers has just sent a customer over to my desk, as he’s insisting that his balance is lower than it should be. Note: I’m female. Both the customer and I are in our 20s.)

Me: “Good morning! So, you have a question about your account balance?”

Customer: “Yes. When I checked my online banking this morning, I saw charges on there that look a little weird. I think someone hacked my account.”

Me: “No problem. I can look into that for you. I just need to see your ID so I can look up your account.”

(He hands it over, and I pull up his account. I see 10 to 15 charges over a two-day period from multiple adult establishments and bars in another state. I can feel myself starting to blush. Since there are other customers around, I can’t blurt out what I’ve found, so I decide to try jogging his memory.)

Me: “Ah… I think I’ve got some answers for you.”

Customer: “What? What is it?”

Me: “Sir, did you travel to [State] on [dates]?”

Customer: “Sure did. It was my buddy’s bachelor party!”

Me: “Okay, it looks like these charges are coming from [State]. What sort of… um… places did you visit in [State]?”

Customer: “To be honest, I can’t remember.” *laughs* “Are they charges from bars?”

Me: “Yes, there are a few of those.”

Customer: “Okay, those are probably mine. What other places are coming up?”

Me: “Let me turn my computer screen around and I’ll show you.”

Customer: “Why? You can just tell me.”

Me: “I’m really not comfortable with that.”

(I turn my computer screen to face him and wordlessly point at each charge.)

Customer: “I didn’t do those. Nope. Not me.”

Me: “So, you made the charge at [Bar] at 1:00 am, but you didn’t make the charge at… ah… this other place–.” *points at strip club name on the screen* “—at 1:45 am? Did one of your friends get a hold of your card?”

Customer: “D*** it! Okay, I am responsible for all those charges! I remember them! But I didn’t get what I was after. Services were not as described. Can I dispute the charges if that’s the case?”

(My face is now undeniably bright red.)

Me: “Ah, well… since you admit to freely making the charge and using their… services, you’ll have a hard time getting the fraud department to refund your money. I can call them for you and file a dispute, but no guarantees.”

Customer: “Hmm… can you refund the money?”

Me: “I’m not authorized to do that. And even if I was, you just admitted to me that you made the charges yourself so I wouldn’t be allowed to.”

Customer: “FINE. Just leave them. I still think I should get a refund. Services not as described.”

(He walks out. The teller who sent him over emails me.)

Teller: “What were all those charges?”

Me: “Bars and strip clubs. He says services weren’t as described.”

Teller: “EW! I’m so sorry I ever sent him over!”

(Our friend let my roommate and I borrow a boxed set of his favorite anime. This is the conversation we have afterward.)

Me: “I can see why you like this show. It’s very you.”

Friend: “It’s one of my favorites for a reason! It may be a bit dated, but it was the first anime I watched with a story and characters I cared about.”

Me: “We thought the story was okay, but—“

Roommate: “We were talking about the nudity and swearing.”

Friend: “What?! There isn’t any nudity or swearing!”

Me: “Yes. Yes, there is. There is a hot springs episode with full-frontal nudity!”

Friend: “WHAT?!”

(It turned out that he’d watched a censored version of the show on television, and since he hadn’t gotten around to rewatching it on DVD, he didn’t realize that the show had been so heavily censored that it turned a mature-rated harem anime into a program that’s remarkably tame in comparison, aimed at young teens! For those curious, the anime in question was “Tenchi Muyo.”)

(It’s just another day working at a print shop when a customer using a self-service copier looks alarmed.)

Customer: “What the heck?!”

Me: *approaching the customer* “Is there something I can do to help?”

Customer: “Your copier is cursing at me!”

Me: *takes a second to process this unusual statement* “I’m sorry? How is it cursing at you?”

(I started to look at the copier’s display, wondering if there was an error she might have been misconstruing as cursing, when she showed me the copy she’d just made. It was a bunch of receipts, but in between each receipt, there were curse words and other letters randomly spread around. I looked at the copier and where she’d placed them on the scanner bed and saw nothing. Suddenly, I remembered that the previous customer to use this machine had been making cut-and-paste handbills that were rather “rude,” and I looked at the underside of the copier’s lid. Because the customer had placed their original pasted copy on the scanner bed before it had completely dried, parts of it had stuck to the lid and ninja’d their way onto this customer’s copies. Luckily, once I discovered the issue and moved her to a new copier, we both had a good laugh about the rowdy and uncouth copier while I cleaned it up.)

(I work in a call center for a large cable company, mostly in tech support. I am a 23-year-old woman with a very feminine voice. I have just finished explaining to this caller, a middle-aged man, how pay-per-view works and how to order it. Most of our pay-per-views are “adult” themed.)

Caller: “So, um, I just remembered. I can’t read. Can you order one for me?”

Me: *getting nervous, but still friendly* “Of course I can help you with that! Which one did you want to order?”

Caller: “Well… can you just read all of them to me?”

(I hear a distinctive zipping noise in the background.)

Me: *pause* “All of them, sir?”

Caller: “I want to know all of the ones you have.”

(I start reading all of the titles for every channel and every time that we have that day. I get no answer from him, only hearing heavy breathing in the background. Finally…)

Caller: “Can you say that one again, but slower?”

Me: “[Explicit Adult Title].”

Caller: “One more time. Slower. Sound it out.”

Me: *repeats, but slower*

Caller: “One. More. Time.”

Me: *repeats again*

Caller: “Yeeeaaaaah. That’s the one! That’s it!”

Me: “So, this is the one you want to order?”

(His breathing has gotten heavier and heavier during the duration of the call.)

Caller: “Give it to me!” *loud grunt, followed by a sigh*

Me: *absolutely disgusted* “Okay. So, I have that title ordered for you. Is there anything else I can help you with tonight?”

Caller: “What are you doing later?”