I’d asked my mum to reserved a type of vegetables that I don’t know the name in Mandarin at the wet market. When I went to collect them, the vegetables seller gave me another type of vegetables. So I clarified with mum.

Me: Mum, I’d asked you to reserved (vegetable #1) but they gave me (vegetable #2).
Mum: Yeah, I’d told them to reserved it.
Me: But they said the vegetables you mentioned are (vegetable #2).
Mum: They clearly don’t know their vegetables!
Me: How can a vegetables seller not know the name of their vegetables?
Mum: …

I work as a general screener at an airport, and mostly frisk for weapons, sharp objects, LAGs, and such.

A family of four comes through, and the old lady takes a while due to her pockets being full of stuff.

Her son comes back from the bag collection towards me, as my female colleague begins her sixteen steps, and starts screaming at us that they are “pure” [nationality] and she is an old woman, so how dare we search her, especially since I’m the foreigner here. I am actually the same as him, but mixed. He starts asking for our badge number and name; I’m about to get a flight supervisor as my colleague signals to me that she found a knife.

Turns out the old lady concealed a knife with an eight-inch blade under her armpit because her family told her she couldn’t bring it on the plane. She intended to use it to cut fruit.

The police and airline ask us our opinion if they should be let through or if there is a risk of more items. I look at him and say that the concealment of the item ought to automatically warrant a full search of their person and baggage. They don’t make their flight that day.

(My colleagues are talking about childcare.)

Colleague #1: “I think girls are easier to take care of. We can play with dolls and stuffed toys. I wouldn’t know what to do with boys.”

Colleague #2: “Boys are just as easy. Just bring them out and throw a ball. Like dogs.”

(I work part-time in a buffet-style restaurant in a hotel. I am deployed to juice veggies and fruits to diners’ requests. There are simple juices up in front for self-service, such as apple juice. Most diners know that it’s self-service, as it is a buffet. One diner walks up to me.)

Diner: “Can I have an apple juice?”

Me: *confused* “It’s right here.” *points to the apple juice in front of her*

Diner: “Oh, I see; it’s here.” *looks at me expectantly*

Me: “These juices are actually self-service. You can just pour it for yourself with the cups at the side—”

Diner: “You do it for me.”

Me: *shocked* “Oh… Okay!” *takes a cup*

Diner: *mouthing some incoherent words*

Me: “Yes?”

Diner: “Nothing! SERVE ME!”

Me: *shocked at the sudden outburst*

Diner: “YES! SERVE ME!” *sighs and rolls eyes*

My office building has lifts with touch-buttons, which are very sensitive; one light touch and the floor is selected. Furthermore, the buttons sit flush with the wall.

It was lunchtime and the lift was crowded with my colleagues. More people got on, and one of my colleagues found himself pressed against the wall. Unbeknownst to him, he was leaning on the lift buttons, and they started lighting up.

We quickly told him to move away from the buttons, but it was too late. Most of the buttons were selected, and we could not do anything about it. When we arrived at the ground floor, we saw a large crowd of people waiting for the lift. My colleague then walked out nonchalantly and said to the crowd, “Good luck,” before quickly moving out of the building.

We did make a hasty escape, as well, and got away before the grumbles started. The good thing that came out of this was that we can now undo our selection by double-tapping it if we press the wrong buttons.