I’m waiting for a bus at a bus stop. A guy standing near me lights up a cigarette.

Me: “Excuse me, you can’t do that at a bus stop. Walk away if you’re smoking.”

The guy angles himself so that his back is to me and the bus stop. He continues smoking.

Me: “Oi! I know you can hear me! Stop smoking! There’s a sign!”

Guy: *Not turning around.* “I can’t see the sign, so it doesn’t apply.”

Me: “That’s not how it works, f***-cake. Put it out or walk away.”

Guy: *Still not turning around.* “Can’t see a sign, so I won’t.”

An old lady with (I assume) her grandson has been sitting at the bus stop. She gets up, walks up behind the man, and whacks him with her handbag. It’s not a hard hit, but it does startle him.

Guy: *Turning around.* “What the f—”

Old Lady: *In a thick Jamaican accent.* “Now you be turnin’ around, and you see the sign you dutty man!”

Guy: “Did you just hit me with your bag?!”

Me: “You didn’t see it happen, so it doesn’t apply.”

Guy: “I’m telling the bus driver what you did when he gets here!”

The guy actually stood there angrily for three minutes until the bus came. He pushed ahead of us to tell the bus driver he’d been assaulted. I then filled in the gaps in the guy’s story for the driver.

Driver: “So what I got from that was, you were illegally smoking at a bus stop in front of a child, asked to stop, refused, and grandma made a move to protect said child. Yeah, not looking good for you, is it mate?”

Guy: “I want you to call the police!”

Driver: “Feel free, from the pavement. I have a route to finish, and my passengers are getting impatient.”

The guy grunts but then tries to get on the bus.

Driver: “Mate, if you think you’re getting on this bus, you’re deluded. You take one more step closer, and I will be the one calling the police.”

He starts swearing loudly, but with everyone against him (now including all the bus passengers), he angrily steps off the bus. He makes a show of getting his phone out as old Jamaican lady, her grandson, and I get on the bus.

Guy: “I’m calling ‘Transport For London’ and reporting you!”

Driver: “You sound stressed, mate. Have a ciggie and calm down.” *Closes bus door and drives off.*

I gave the bus driver my email in case he needed someone to tell the true story to defend him if that guy called to complain.

A few years back, I’m swimming with my three-year-old son. We had the pool to ourselves apart from one other lady.

The pool is L-shaped, split into the main bit with lanes, and a square bit that was notionally the kids’ pool, but only because it’s shallower.

My son was learning to swim without armbands, and so we were in the wide lane, while the lady was swimming in the narrow lane, labelled Adults Only.

After one length of my son swimming a whole length with me encouraging him, she says:

Lady: “You can’t swim here; this is adults only.”

Bull-s*** lady, you’re in the adults-only bit. Except, I can’t say that in front of my very eloquent three-year-old.

Me: “It’s just your lane that’s adults only, look, there’s the sign. My son is learning to swim lengths.”

She starts ranting at me about how she pays her membership fees (so do I, funnily enough) and I’m wrong (check the sign) and basically having a tantrum.

Lady, I’m Mum to a three-year-old. I can handle this behaviour, and I’m gonna speak to you exactly as I would to my child, probably in the same tone of voice, because I’m in Mummy mode, and my son is listening.

Me: “I can see you’re upset about this, but I’m very sorry, we are allowed to swim here.”

She rants a bit more, and I very calmly gentle parent her, until she eventually sputters and tells me:

Lady: “Shut up!”

And flounces off.

Son: “Mummy! She just told you to shut up! That’s so rude!”

I made no effort to speak quietly and said:

Me: “Yes, it really was. She was cross because she couldn’t get her own way. But you’re right, it’s very rude to say that to someone.”

We then proceeded to swim a good few more lengths, and I very vocally and cheerfully encouraged him the whole time.

Went to the front desk after to double-check I was right (I was). Apparently, she’d also been to complain and been told to suck it up.

My brother had a strange encounter a few years back. He was at a large supermarket and wearing a shirt that was similar to the employees’ uniforms, so I can kind of see why this old lady mistook him for an employee.

She asked him about something.

Brother: “I don’t work here.”

Customer: “Stop lying! Yes, you do!”

Brother: “No, I don’t! P*** off!”

Customer: “Well, where DO you work then? I want to tell your boss all about you!”

Brother: “I work at Noneofyabusiness Incorporated.”

My spouse is autistic and gets overloaded easily. We’re vacationing in France, but I’m American. I speak some French. These are the facts you need to know to understand this story.

We’re on a very crowded bus in Nice, and my spouse starts hyperventilating. I start giving her a massage to calm her down.

A man, jokingly, demands in French:

Man: “Est-ce que je le-recevrai?” *Could I get one?*

I’ve been asked this before, but my typical response to this joke (a quick explanation of my spouse’s condition) is too complex for my limited French. So instead, I reply with a comeback I’ve been meaning to use against the rude people who make this joke, but have felt was too rude to use in the States.

Me: “Quand vous me-préparez le petit-déjeuner, après la meilleure nuit du monde.” *When you make me breakfast in the morning after a great night.*

Four other young men who had been standing with the man, presumably his friends, all go ‘ohhhhhhhhh’ and what I assume is French for some variation of ‘you got burned’. Or possibly ‘this American makes no sense’, I may have mangled the joke, but I think I said it right.

Blushing, the man turned back to his friends and left my wife and me alone the rest of the ride.

I was with a friend of mine in his car. He pulls into a space in the parking lot, and as we get out of the car, a woman pulls up and rolls her window down and states:

Driver: “Hey! I was going to park there!”

Friend: “I got here first, fair and square. Sorry.”

Driver: “Oh no, I have been driving around this lot looking for a spot and saw this one first. You are going to have to move your car.”

Friend: “Look, I was here first, I’m not moving my car. You are going to have to find somewhere else to park; stop being rude to people.”

Driver: “Excuuuuuse me? My husband is in the car!”

She was saying this like it was a threat, like she was going to get her husband to come and deal with us.

My friend walks up to her car window and yells in a very loud voice at her:

Friend: “WELL, MAYBE YOU OUGHT TO LET HIM DRIVE!”

I started laughing. HER HUSBAND started laughing. 

Outnumbered, she gave my friend the middle finger and drove away. We waited by his car for a few minutes to make sure there was no follow-up retribution, but we were safe.