(I’m Canadian, currently doing a study-abroad semester in Stockholm. It’s just before Christmas, when I’m set to head home, so I’m browsing a well-known department store for some gifts. I’m looking at a display of scarves when an elderly woman comes up to me with an armful of items.)

Customer: *speaks Swedish*

(Although I’ve tried to learn the basics, I’m nowhere near fluent in Swedish and have no idea what this lady is saying.)

Me: “Um… Jag kan inte… pratar svenska. Um… sorry.” *I can’t speak Swedish.*

Customer: *scoffs and rolls her eyes, and keeps speaking Swedish*

Me: “I don’t speak Swedish. Um, I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”

(I turn back to the display of scarves, but she forcefully grabs my arm and tries to pull me back. I can’t stand random people touching me, so I give her hand a brisk slap.)

Me: “Please don’t touch me! I have no idea what you’re saying and I can’t help you. I’m very sorry! Now, please leave me alone!”

Customer: *starts screaming at me in Swedish*

(Her expression makes her look like she wants to claw my eyes out. Thankfully, an employee comes over and tries to defuse the situation. It doesn’t help much, and eventually, the lady has to be escorted out by security.)

Employee: “I’m so sorry. She thought you worked here and was trying to get you to give her a discount. She’s actually done this to so many people that she’s not supposed to be in the store, but we have so many entrances it’s hard to keep her out. But you’re American, right? No one from here would’ve stood up for themselves and caused a scene.” *pauses* “Not that it’s a bad thing. We Swedes just don’t like drawing attention to ourselves.”

Me: “Canadian, actually. But thanks, I think?”

Employee: “Aha! Well, that explains how you can stand up for yourself and be polite at the same time. Good for you!”

(He went back to work, and I was left there thinking, “What the heck just happened?”)

(I work as a sales rep for a large online retailer of IT prodcts. We sell mostly to other business. This call comes in)

Me: [Company Name], [My Name].

Customer: Hi, this is [Name], from [Company], I have a questions about a computer.

Me: Okay, let’s take a look, what’s the articlenumber for the computer? (customer gives me the articlenumber) Okay, great, I have it here, what was your question?

Customer: Yeah, what does it mean when it says that the computer comes pre-installed with Windows 7? Like, will it look like Windows 7? Because I don’t like Windows 8.

Me: Well, it means that the computer comes pre-installed with Windows 7 as the operating system.

Customer: Oh great! Thank you, that’s all I wanted to know! Bye! (hangs up).

Me (to the group I’m sitting with): Guys, you are not gonna belive my first call of the day!

(I am 21 and one of the managers at a supermarket. I have just gotten off my shift, changed into my normal clothes, and gone into the store to buy some things I need. I notice one of our regulars, a middle-aged woman. She has two of her young grandchildren with her. In the corner of my eye, I see her grab a pallet jack and begin pushing around her grandchildren on it.)

Me: *too shocked to realise that I’m not in my normal clothes* “I’m sorry, but you can’t use the pallet jack to play with.”

Customer: *visibly angry* “Excuse you?!”

Me: *realising I’m in my normal clothes* “Oh, I’m so sorry, but I work here, and I’m afraid I can’t let you use that pallet jack to play with. It’s not safe for children.”

Customer: “I’ll have you know that I have nine grandchildren, little girl.”

Me: “Congratulations! That must be amazing, but I’m still going to take that pallet jack to the back storage. It shouldn’t have been out here in the first place, and I apologise for that.”

(She just gives me a vicious look as I take the pallet jack from her and take it into the storage. Further into the store, the customer walks by me again.)

Customer: *loudly, to her grandchildren* “Look! There she is, the poor little girl, such a poor little girl.”

(I just shrug and continue with my shopping. Finally, I reach the cash registers. The customer is there with her grandchildren, and apparently there is some trouble up there, as well, as she is yelling at the cashier.)

Customer: “I want to speak to the manager!”

Coworker: *who she is yelling at* “I’m the evening manger.”

Customer: “Well, then, I want to speak to your boss!”

Coworker: “Of course. She is standing right there.” *points to me*

Me: *puts on my most charming smile and walks up* “Hi again! What can I help you with?”

Customer: *bright red in the face* “Nothing, absolutely nothing.”

(She doesn’t say another word while she is in the store, and basically just runs after she has paid.)

Coworker: “I’m so sorry for dragging you into that, but she was horrible.”

Me: “No worries at all. In fact, you made my day!”

(The customer came back many times, but she never could look me in the eyes again. All in all, a very Swedish way of dealing with confrontation.)

(I am working at the checkout counter, and we have a special on avocados from South America: two for the price of one. There are about four people in the queue; one of them is a regular. I see that he is holding two avocados and muttering to himself. As it is his turn, he hands me the avocados.)

Me: “Hi, would that be all for you?”

Customer #1: “No.”

Me: “No?”

Customer #1: “No, they are not ripe. You picked them too early!”

(And he hands me the avocados and walks away, having queued about ten minutes just to hand them back.)

Me: “…?”

(The next lady in line approaches.)

Customer #2: *laughing* “Yeah, you picked them too early.”

Me: “I guess I can have a sleep in tomorrow, then.”

For work and school reasons, I have been up since two am after no more than an hour of sleep, since I had trouble falling asleep. I’m in school to become a truck driver and am tagging along in a truck to see what the work is like. It’s around 11 am and, despite having slept some in the truck, I am a zombie.

We stop at a gas station to grab some snacks and I’m about to pay. I’m looking through my wallet to find my card. I find it, pull it out, stick it in the machine, and start punching in my pin. The cashier starts to giggle ,and that’s when I realize I’m trying to pay with my drivers’ license.

I say, “Oops, wrong card.” I put it back in my wallet and start looking for the correct card. I find it, yank it out, and put it in the machine. The cashier doubles over laughing and I realize I used my license again.