(I work in a pet shop. We sell a range of pets and fish which I know a fair bit about. I’m in the fish section, where it is displayed ‘cold water & tropical.’ We also only sell items for those fish. I’m minding my own business when I hear:)

Customer: *to her friend* “Where’s the Nemo fish?”

Customer’s Friend: “Oh they don’t sell them; they are tropical fish, so they are really hard to keep, and their proper name is nemo.”

(To this point I stand there and just sigh, with the two huge fish signs right next to them. I honestly hope they never buy fish!)

I am a committee member for a local writing group. The committee is fairly small, maybe 10 – 15 members including the chair and vice chair. We are all volunteers, so none of us get paid.

During our big annual writing competition, the committee pulls together to keep on top of the extra work it creates, including the influx of emails in the group inbox, as well as the general administration of the entries. We receive hundreds of entries every year so this is quite a hefty task, especially considering we all have day jobs and other various responsibilities to juggle as well.

Despite this, we usually have very few problems. One year, however, we had an entrant who was nothing but trouble. The day after emailing his entry, he contacted us, demanding to know why we hadn’t posted him a receipt to say we had received his story — all he got was an auto-reply email. For the record, all entrants receive an auto-reply. This acts as a receipt. The message in the auto-reply asks recipients to take it as such, and the website specifies this, too. That said, we’re always happy to respond to entrants who just want to double check or need extra reassurance.

Thinking this was such a case, I duly replied, assuring him that we had received his entry, and explained that we simply didn’t have the resources or manpower to offer personal receipt confirmations to every entrant. He replied almost immediately, threatening to withdraw his entry due to our “unprofessional behaviour.” According to him, email was unprofessional and lazy. How could he trust us to do our job right when we couldn’t even send a simple slip in the post?

I told him if he wanted to withdraw, that was fine; all he had to do was confirm and we would refund his entry fee, though I warned him he could only do so until the deadline. After that, he would no longer be entitled to a refund. I also explained we could only send confirmation by post if he provided us with a stamped self-addressed envelope. We’re a small, non-profit organisation, and small expenses like stamps can soon add up.

We didn’t hear anything more from him until the day of the results. He emailed us at four am demanding to know who had won. He pointed out that the website and social media pages said we would reveal the winners today, yet there was nothing on any of them.

I reminded him that the results would be announced today at 20:00 at our prize-giving gala, and then the results would be released online at 22:00. All of this information was available on our website and social media. I finished by inviting him to the gala, giving him the full details.

Unsatisfied with my answer, he continued to demand the results now. I knew he hadn’t won, but we were bound to secrecy until the official reveal at the gala. I couldn’t even hint that he had been unsuccessful. When I refused to tell him the results, he accused us of being a scam and threatened to report us. I didn’t have the patience to deal with him anymore, so I told him he was welcome to report us if he wished, knowing that even if he did, we had done everything by the book, so nothing would come of it.

Thankfully, he didn’t respond.

That evening, the gala went really well. Everyone had a great time. The winners were ecstatic, and those who didn’t win congratulated them graciously. Best of all, there was no sign of the difficult entrant.

The next morning, however, our inbox was full of emails from him, calling us scammers and shills. He claimed there was no way his entry could’ve lost, as he was a top graduate from [UK University known for its strong creative writing program] and had been published several times. He accused me of fiddling the results. As far as he was concerned, that was the only way his story could’ve lost. He demanded not only his entry fee back, but he also wanted the prize money that was “rightfully his,” as he put it.

This is when the committee chair stepped in. She told him she would not refund the entry fee because he didn’t win, that the results had not been tampered with or fixed, and that she most certainly would not give him any prize money. All entries were judged anonymously. The adjudicator had no idea who had written any of the stories submitted.

The entrant became nasty, hurling insults both at her and me – including questioning our competence due to our gender (we’re both female). The chair calmly wrote back and told him he was henceforth banned from future competitions.

The entrant then threatened to sue. This worried many of the committee members. A small non-profit like ourselves would struggle to afford legal action, but the chair dutifully wrote back, informing him he was free to seek legal advice if he wished. She assured him we would fully cooperate with his chosen legal representative, adding that we wouldn’t hesitate to provide ample evidence, including copies of the abusive emails he had sent.

In response, the entrant left several nasty reviews on various pages, claiming we had swindled him, were rude, unprofessional, and incompetent, as well as claiming we insulted him. He made up several fake accounts to make even more negative reviews.

We were worried this would impact future competitions. However, several members and entrants found out about this incident and immediately rallied to our defence, leaving shining reviews to combat his toxic ones. The following year, we received a record number of entries. Best of all, we didn’t hear from the entrant ever again.

(I work in a UK clothing store that sells fairly expensive but good-quality clothing, and I recently encountered one of the weirdest days. A shopper, in her thirties I’d say, with a walking stick, comes up to me at the service desk.)

Shopper: “I’m really sorry to bother you but I need some help. There’s a lady in the store who has been following me around and telling me to leave now. I’ve not done anything wrong, I hope.”

Me: “Is she a member of staff?”

Shopper: “No, she’s not wearing your uniforms or name tags, and she’s got a coat on and seems to be shopping. She just keeps following me, and it’s kind of scaring me now.”

(I see a lady coming straight for the desk, pointing at the woman I’m talking to.)

Rude Lady: “You! You! I told you to leave!”

Shopper: “That’s her. I don’t know what I’ve done wrong.”

Rude Lady: “You!” *pointing at me now* “Get this out of the store!”

Me: “Okay, what is the problem? Has something happened?”

Rude Lady: “Are you blind?! Have you seen her? It’s revolting!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I don’t see the problem. She looks perfectly fine to me.”

Rude Lady: “You are stupid. This is an expensive shop, yes? For beautiful people. Fat cripples don’t belong in here.”

(The first shopper looks like she’s going to cry. I honestly think she looks better than this rude woman. She does weigh more than this rude woman, but that’s no indicator of beauty or lack of.)

Me: “We welcome all shoppers, providing they have good manners and behave well in the store. I’m not throwing people out just because you don’t like the look of them.”

Rude Lady: “Right, well, your manager will be hearing of this. I’m sure once I say you’ve let disgusting, fat tramps in the store and lost all my business in the process, you’ll be looking for another job.” *turns to the original shopper* “And you! I’d better never see you again in any of my stores. You chose to be fat, so you chose to look revolting.”

(The rude lady stormed out, and I spent the next ten minutes reassuring the poor shopper that not only would she not be thrown out of the store, but that the rude lady was now banned from here and we’d have the video footage to back up why.)

(A new starter has been assigned to my team. I am trying to get him logged into our computer to process customers’ to-store deliveries, when the system refuses to let him log in. I recognise the error: he hasn’t started his shift yet — we use an electronic time-booking system that also prevents user accounts from being logged into unless they are on the clock. I advise him that he needs to clock in, and escort him to the machine in case he forgot where it is. He stops as we approach the staff door.)

Me: “Is there a problem?”

Starter: “I can’t go in there.”

Me: “Why not?”

Starter: “The gays are in there. [Manager] said I’m not allowed.”

(I have no idea what he’s talking about, but reassure him that he is, indeed, allowed beyond the threshold. He adamantly refuses to enter, and wants me to speak to the manager about it. I tell him he risks not being paid for his shift, which he accepts. I assign him to something not needing computer access and wait for the manager to come in. She is equally confused and speaks to the starter. She gives me this gem when she returns.)

Manager: “He apparently misheard me when I told him he had to be escorted in the admin office because the keys are in there.”

(I’m in a shoe shop, when I see a girl dressed entirely in black with a rainbow bag, clutching some holographic black shoes.)

Girl: *tearing up* “These shoes are black and gay! That’s me! That’s my aesthetic! I NEED them!”