It’s Halloween, at about 10:00 pm, and I’ve still got several of the treat packets I made up still left. I get a knock at the door, and I’m greeted by four lads around fifteen or sixteen, wearing cheap masks most likely from the local pound shop.

Lads: “Trick or treat!”

Me: “Um, I don’t think you guys will like the treats I’ve got.”

I’m honest with them, hoping to avoid my windows being egged or causing enough of a disturbance to disrupt my toddler asleep upstairs.

Lad #1: “What ya got?”

I grab the bag and open it to show them.

Me: “A small packet of sweets with a Freddo, popping candy eyeball, mini pack of Haribo, and a bubble wand.”

Freddos are chocolate, and Haribo is gummy candy.

Lad #2: “Bubble wands?”

One of the lads pushes past to look in the bag.

Lad #3: “Bubble wands? Are you serious?”

Before I can do anything, the lad shoves his hand in the bag and draws out a bubble wand, holding it high in the air like he just pulled the sword from the stone.

Lad #3: “JACKPOT!”

I stand there in shock as they gleefully take the wands, opening them and wafting them around, filling the street with bubbles.

Lad #3: “Thank you!”

Lad #2: “Epic, man!”

Lad #1: “Nice one!”

They waved as they walked down the street, still making bubbles, talking, and laughing. I’m still in shock, but I certainly hope I see them again next year!

I work as an administrator for a university. Most of my work involves supporting our academics, but occasionally, I take calls from students or sometimes even parents.

One day, I got a call from the parent of a student.

Woman: “I need you to tell me what classes my son, [Student], has signed up for.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but you’re not listed as a contact. I can give those details to—”

Woman: “Incorrect! I’m his mother. You will tell me what classes he has signed up for.”

Me: “Your son is legally an adult, so—”

Woman: “Incorrect. I’m. His. Mother.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but you’re not listed as a contact, so I can’t disclose that information.”

Woman: “Fine. Then you will give me his login details so I can see for myself.”

Me: “I can’t do that—”

Woman: “Incorrect!”

This goes on for some time, with the woman telling me I am “incorrect” every time I give her an answer she doesn’t like. Then, she suddenly changes tactics.

Woman: “Well, then, if he signs up for the wrong classes, I assume you’ll give him a full refund of his fees?”

Me: “If your son has taken the classes he has chosen, he won’t be entitled to a refund—”

Woman: “Incorrect! We agreed on what classes he would take. If he takes something different, you will be refunding him. So, you either tell me what classes he has signed up for, or I will sue you!”

Me: “Since you’ve threatened legal action, this query must now go through our legal team—”

Woman: “Incorrect!”

I passed the woman through to our legal team anyway, glad to be rid of her. Sadly, it wasn’t my first time dealing with a helicopter parent, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. But it was one of the funnier interactions.

This one sticks in my memory, even over fifteen years later!

My coworker and I got along okay for years until the day I returned to work after having my tubes tied. I was thirty and had never wanted kids, nor had my husband, and I was delighted to have finally gotten the procedure done.

That morning, [Coworker] came up to me snarling, a look on her face like I’d just taken a dump in her handbag. Pure unbridled disgust radiated off her. She started by slapping a hand down on my desk.

Coworker: “How dare you?! You go off, mutilate yourself, betray your marriage, and never once stop to think about others!”

Befuddled, I asked what on earth she meant. It turned out that she and her husband were struggling with infertility. Her religion held that marriage was only for the production of children, so by removing that option, I was, one, not married anymore, and two, revolting because I’d given away a fertility she desperately wanted.

Me: “My marriage and my body are none of your business.”

She stormed out of the office.

Later, I found out that she’d gone to Human Resources and said she could no longer work with me; she didn’t feel safe because I wasn’t part of her religion and I was boasting (!) about giving away “the best part of being a woman”.

[Coworker] avoided me for the rest of my time at that firm. I don’t know what HR said to her, but that was the most WTF moment I ever encountered in over twenty-five years in IT.

Related:
Not Your Body, Not Your Business, Part 2
Not Your Body, Not Your Business

I was in a lecture on fluid dynamics in my final year of university. There was a LOT to cover. The lecturer was writing it all on the whiteboard, and we were scribbling it all down.

As you’d expect in any engineering lecture, Greek symbols were used a lot, including one new one. It was a vertical squiggly line, and it cropped up a LOT in the lecture.

It was only just toward the end of two hours of note-taking that the lecturer made some comment that made the entire class groan.

There were TWO very similar-looking Greek letters he had been using throughout the lecture, but everyone thought it was the same vertical squiggle!

Ugh.

I work at a large superstore that caters to mothers and their children. An older woman (likely the granny) with some twins comes up to me.

Customer: “Can you get us a trolley, please?”

The trolleys are outside and it’s raining. Our trolleys are minuscule but do have one seat for a kid on them. I take one in, passing a couple walking in, and dry the trolley off for Granny.

Customer: “No, you idiot! Can’t you see I have twins here? I need a bigger one with two seats!”

Me: “I’m afraid these are the only kinds of trolleys with seats that we have.”

Customer: “You are rude and disrespectful!”

Bear in mind, she is saying all this while I am drying the trolley, something I offered to do and wasn’t asked to do.

Customer: “I’ll never be able to manage to buy what I need while keeping an eye on the kids! So, I won’t be shopping here!”

Seconds later, the couple I had passed earlier were walking around with the granny; they were the parents, apparently. The kids, despite the extra help, were running riot and making a mess.