I’m on my way home from college. I had a pretty long day and I just want to use the fifty-minute train ride home to clear my head, stare out the window, and listen to my music. Someone happens to call me just after the train starts driving. I have my phone call, which is interrupted here and there due to bad reception, but I manage to end it after a few minutes.

A girl who I guess is about sixteen has joined my seat in the meantime. The second I hang up my phone, she opens her mouth and doesn’t close it for the rest of the ride.

Girl: “Bad reception, huh? Yeah, that happened to me, also, the other day when I was traveling through here. I was calling my friend, you see, and she kept saying, ‘Gee, I can’t hear you,’ and I was like, ‘I know! I’m on a train that’s going through the woods right now!’ It’s so annoying! Like, you know, like, how can they not just put up some more cell phone towers, right? And then my friend said…”

This goes on for quite some time. She uses a tone with me like I’m a friend she has known for ages, and she talks very loud. After her spiel about cell phones, she mentions the school she goes to. Not wanting to be rude or scare her off, I reply that I did a similar education in graphic design.

Bad move. Her face lights up like that of a kid who just got the best Christmas present and she starts rummaging in her backpack, pulling out a huge portfolio. Somehow, all her work revolves around dollhouses. She goes on and on about how she loves dollhouses.

Girl: “How can you not love them? You love dollhouses, do you? Wait, you know my friend, [Friend]? He makes the best dollhouses! You should see his Instagram!”

And yes, she pulls out her phone to show me that person’s entire profile, talking non-stop about every photo she sees. 

Finally, she gets off one stop before mine.

Girl: “It was so good to chat with a new friend! Hope I catch you again on this train; I had such a good time! Byyyeeeeee!” 

She leaves and waves happily at me from the platform. 

I give a sigh of relief and find several people giving me a look I can only describe as, “What the h*** was that?” 

Fellow Passenger: “You didn’t know that girl at all, did you? I mean, what was that about?” 

Me: “I have no idea.”

I saw her once after, weeks later. I made sure to move to another carriage before she could spot me. Thank goodness it stayed with that!

(I’m applying for a job at a tanning salon via an external agency, from which I have an assigned job coach. I have to say, I’m not exactly the beauty-guru type, and working at a salon was a questionable option for me from the start, but my job coach keeps telling me I’m perfect for the job.)

Job Coach: “It’s only a hostess type of function anyway. You know, welcome the customers, point them to their tanning booths, and make coffee.” 

(The job coach is there for the interview and we both arrive at the same time. The employer lets us in, but we are followed by a man who I think is another employee. Once the employer gets us set with coffee and tea and he strikes up a conversation with the man… which takes him about 20 minutes.)

Employer: *to the man* “Did you see the state of our windows? They really need some cleaning. I guess I’ll have those broads who work the desk here do that this week. All they do is sit on their a**es anyway.” 

(Finally, just when my job coach and I wonder if this is a job interview or a tea party, the employer says goodbye to the man he was talking to — a friend of his, as it turns out — and directs his attention to us. 

He describes a bit of the job and I’m mildly interested. It all sounds like something I could do. Then, my job coach asks him about the controversy surrounding tanning, and how you can get skin cancer from it. Cue a long tirade from the employer on how tanning is very healthy and it’s actually sunblock that causes cancer, followed by an equally long tirade on how big pharma is a conspiracy, global warming isn’t real, and vaccines cause autism, expecting us to agree with him at every point. 

The conversation finally ends and I’m expected to tag along for a day or two to see if this job is a match. I’m too baffled to counteract anything, and I let it happen, but once my job coach and I leave the shop, I express my concerns.)

Job Coach: “So, what do you think? Do you want to give it a shot? It could be a fun job!”

Me: “With all due respect… I don’t think I want to work for an employer who refers to his female employees as ‘those broads,’ displays a very unprofessional demeanor by yapping with his ‘friend’ for twenty minutes, and has so many wrong views on the world that I can only foresee a lot of arguing if I ever were to work for him. So… thanks but no thanks.”

I’m installing a dishwasher at a customer’s house, and I’m trying to get the power cable up behind a wood board.

Customer: “Do you have trouble getting it up?”

Me: “Uh… no, ma’am, just trouble getting it in.”

It is a very hot summer and I decide to wear my favourite dress. I’ve had it for years and it has lost its elasticity. It’s not the most flattering dress anymore and since I am overweight, it adds a few more pounds visually. However, since it is hot, I decide to go for comfort instead of style. 

I’m heading home from spending the night elsewhere and I come across a construction site blocking my path. I need to go to the other side and there is literally no other way to get there unless you cross that site. Construction people have made a “safe path” and employees are present to help people if needed. I head to the small stairway.

Employee: “Miss, miss, wait! One moment, I’m coming!”

A middle-aged man runs towards me. He doesn’t hurry; he actually runs. He offers his hand.

Employee: “Mind your step, miss, one more… Do you want me to take your suitcase?”

Me: “Oh, no, thank you. It’s not heavy.”

The man stays close to me over the sandy path.

Employee: “It must be getting heavy for you in this heat.”

Me: “Oh, not really. I’m fine.”

We reach the other side and the man offers his hand again and helps me out of this sandy pit.

Employee: “Good luck, miss, with the last bits!”

I thank him and am amazed by this kind and chivalrous behaviour. By no means was the man pushy; he was genuinely being supportive and kind. I continue, and halfway, I come across to someone I hadn’t seen for years.

Acquaintance: “Oh, hi, [My Name]! You’re looking great! When are you due?!”

It then hit me. The dress made me look pregnant. The man who’d just helped me thought he was helping a heavily pregnant lady. But I’m sorry, sir. I am just fat.

I am ringing up a customer. She has two bottles of shower gel which are on promotion — two bottles for €2 — and one pack of paracetamol which is €0,99.

Me: “Your total is €3.”

Customer: “But the shower gel is supposed to be on sale.”

Me: “They are; that’s why it’s only €3.”

Customer: “But it says two for €2. Why are you saying €3? That’s not right!”

Me: “Yes, the shower gel is, indeed, two for €2, and you also have a pack of painkillers which is 99 cents, which adds up to a total of €3.”

Customer: “…”

Me: “Cash or debit?”