On the first night of Chanukah 2018, my home was vandalized with a swastika and paint stripper was dumped on my car. My car was totaled out because the unknown substance etched itself into the glass, and metal and spray paint would not stick.

I was in shock when, the night after the attack, a candle-light vigil was organized for us to show hate crimes were not tolerated here. Someone even set up a GoFundMe to help cover the costs to replace my car.

Even though the vandals haven’t yet been caught, my neighborhood has rallied around us to ensure that we feel safe and protected. I never thought so many strangers would be so willing to make us feel safe and welcome after someone would attack us just because of our religious beliefs, but seeing all those people rally around us give me hope that the world really is moving towards the right direction.

(A woman, who in retrospect is probably a scammer, comes up to me at returns. I’ve been working at this location for two years so far, but we recently got new management.)

Customer: “Hi. I bought a lotion here and I found it was used. I don’t want a refund or exchange; I just want a gift card.”

(How she knows this I don’t know because most of our bottles don’t have covers on top.)

Me: “Let me get my manager.”

(I run to the back and get the manager.)

Manager: “Ma’am, I’m just trying to understand why you want a gift card when I can just give you a return and you can buy a new product?”

Customer: “Okay, I’ll take a refund… but I also want a gift card because I am displeased with the service here.”

Manager: “I am sorry you are displeased with the service here, and while I will not question you on how you know the lotion was used, I can only offer you either a refund or exchange.”

Customer: “I want a refund and a $50 [Store] gift card. I’ve been to other [Stores], and when I’m not happy with customer service, the manager usually gives me a gift card of $25 to $50.”

(This IS true, BUT ONLY TRUE if you come across a rude employee who refuses to help you, not for a return. My manager refuses to budge, and the customer starts raising her voice.)

Customer: “This [Store] is gross! I HATE THE CUSTOMER SERVICE HERE!”

(My manager gave her a $25 dollar gift card and a refund to get her out.)

(I’m working the front counter on a slow day. A customer walks in; she looks to be in her mid-twenties.)

Customer: “I want to rent a car for the weekend; I’m going up to see family in Los Angeles.”

Me: “Not a problem. I have compact car available for [price] per day.”

Customer: “That’s a really great price. I’ll take it.”

Me: “Okay. I will need a credit or debit card for the security deposit and a driver’s license.”

Customer: *surprised look comes across her face* “Oh, you need a driver’s license to rent a car?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, I need a government-issued license.”

Customer: “I don’t have a driver’s license.”

Me: “That’s okay if you’ve misplaced it; a temporary paper one is accepted here, as well, as long as it has the DMV watermark on it.”

Customer: “No, you don’t understand. I never got a driver’s license. I never learned how to drive.”

Me: *shocked at this information, because a car is almost essential to live and work in San Diego* “I see. Well, how did you expect to drive the car to Los Angeles if you don’t know how to drive?”

Customer: “I… I honestly don’t know. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I really need to have driver’s license to rent a car?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, you really need a driver’s license to rent a car.”

(The customer thanks me for my time and walks out. I go back to cleaning and organizing the front office. Two hours later, the same customer walks back in, and my coworker is working the front counter. I am on my lunch in the next room and overhear entire conversation.)

Customer: “I want to rent a car to visit family in Los Angeles.”

Coworker: “Okay, not a problem. We have a compact car available. I will need a driver’s license and a credit card.”

(The customer opens her purse and places a credit card and a driver’s license on the counter.)

Coworker: *grabs credit card and license and looks them over* “Ma’am, I need your driver’s license; I think this is your husband’s.”

Customer: “That’s not what I was told earlier by the other guy. He said I just needed a driver’s license.”

Coworker: “That is correct. You need a driver’s license, issued to you, in your name. Not a driver’s license you found on the street. Besides, the driver’s license you gave me is six years expired, anyway. I can’t take this because it is no longer valid.”

Customer: *begins yelling* “I was told I needed a driver’s license. I never got a driver’s license, so I went and bought one. I paid $200 for this license off a guy from Craigslist. Here is a driver’s license; now give me a car!”

Coworker: “Let me get my manager.” *goes to the next room and asks me to come out*

Me: “Ma’am, I have overheard everything from the next room, and [Employee] is correct. You need a driver’s license issued to you. Not one you bought online, and definitely not an expired license you bought online. We will not be renting you a car; I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Customer: “You told me I needed a license. Take my license and give me or car, or else I will call the police!”

Me: “Don’t bother. I will call them, instead. Have a seat.”

(The customer sat in a chair. When a police officer showed up, she explained to him why they were called. He asked to see the driver’s license and promptly arrested her for identity theft.)

(When people call in to get a tow, we have a list of questions we ask to gather the information we need. At LEAST ten times a day I go through this exact situation.)

Me: “This is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Customer: “Hi. I need my car towed.”

Me: “Okay, not a problem. What is the year, make, model, and color of vehicle?”

Customer: “Honda.”

Me: “Honda what?”

Customer: “Accord.”

Me: “Year and color?”

Customer: “Blue.”

Me: “And the year?”

Customer: “2003.”

Me: “All right, perfect. Where is the vehicle located?”

Customer: “At my house.”

Me: “What’s the address?”

Customer: “[City].”

Me: “I need the street numbers and street name, or at least cross streets.”

Customer: *gives address*

Me: “Perfect, and where would you like it towed?”

Customer: *gives city name*

Me: *slams face into desk repeatedly*

(I work at a popular office supply store. Every Thursday is payday, and I normally have that day off. I get my paycheck from the office and walk behind the Customer Service desk to get a pen to sign my name on the check. Keep in mind, we wear uniforms at my job — red shirts with black pants — and I’m wearing a black tee shirt and blue shorts. While I’m signing my name, my coworker is also standing next to me at the cash register. All of a sudden, a woman comes up and starts talking and saying she needs help. I keep my head down, assuming she’s talking to my coworker. Then, all of a sudden, she starts going crazy.)

Customer: *banging her fist on the counter* “EXCUSE ME!”

Me: *looks up at her, confused* “Yeah?”

Customer: “Why are you not acknowledging me?!”

Me: “I thought you were talking to the cashier.”

Customer: “No, I was talking to you! I expected better service from this place, considering I spend hundreds of dollars here for my company! Now, I’ll ask you again: where are your shredders?!”

Me: *pointing* “Far left wall, towards the back.”

Customer: “Thank you. Next time, you’d better acknowledge me, or else I’ll have some words to say about you to your manager!”

(She starts to walk away, but having enough courage, I call her back.)

Me: “Hey!”

Customer: “What is it now?”

Me: “Ma’am, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but here, we wear uniforms. As you can see from me and this cashier, we are dressed completely differently. Even though I do work here, since I’m off the clock and unfortunately dealt with your bad attitude, I had the full right and right-mind to tell you to eff off! But I didn’t; I told you where you needed to go and got you out of my hair. I know that you must be having a ‘long day,’ and I’m sure that guy is, and that guy is, too, but that doesn’t excuse your bad attitude. So, when you come up to pay for your shredder, I expect you to treat [Coworker] with respect and have a pleasant attitude. Good luck with your shredder!”

(The customer turned beet red and stormed off toward my manager to tell him what I’d just told her. He looked at me, then back at her, and simply shrugged his shoulders. She screamed in frustration and walked out of our store. I looked back at my manager and he simply smiled and winked at me. I’m always thankful that I have coworkers and managers to always have my back on and off the clock.)