I work in customer service for an online video game that is rated Mature for violence and language. A caller is having an issue with their account, and I think I’ve found the issue.

Me: “Okay, it looks like when you signed up for the expansion, you put in the wrong date of birth for the security question.”

Customer: “Oh, yeah, I remember now. I lied about my age when I first signed up. That’s why my date of birth doesn’t match.”

Me: “You do realize that lying about your age goes against our terms and conditions?”

Customer: “Well, I’m legal now!”

Me: “I’ll update the date of birth on your account, but I’ll also need to inform my manager and put a note on your account.”

Customer: “Do what you need to do. It’s not like my mom can put me in timeout at this point.”

Me: “Yes, but your account could be closed by us.”

Customer: “Ugh… couldn’t you just ground me instead and tell me to ‘think about what I’ve done’?”

The caller did have a point; we really didn’t have any block for under-eighteens other than entering the date of birth, which we had no way of verifying. But admitting you did that before so brazenly — that was a new one for me.

I was approached by a kid who was around eleven years old — clearly underage.

Kid: “Do you have Grand Theft Auto V in stock?”

Me: “We do, but I can’t sell it to you as it’s 18-rated.”

Kid: “Okay, I will get my mum.”

The kid’s mother came over shortly after.

Mother: “Can I buy a copy of Grand Theft Auto V?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I can’t sell it to you as it’s clearly for your son.”

Mother: “It’s for my husband! It’s a present!”

I refused and said I wouldn’t serve her. She was so mean, calling me names, so I called my manager over. She made up loads of lies about me and my actions, and my manager either believed her or just wanted her to go.

Manager: “Just serve her.”

Me: “No. You can serve her if you want to, but I refuse to break the law.”

Manager: “Just do it.”

Me: “No. If you make me, I will quit. The game is clearly for her son, and it’s breaking the law.”

My boss got the game out of the drawer.

I signed off of the till, got my jacket, and walked off.

Manager: “What the h*** are you doing?!”

Me: “I told you if you serve that woman you are breaking the law. I will not be a part of it, so I quit.”

I got upstairs and my senior manager asked me where I was going. I explained what had happened.

Me: “I guess I quit.”

Senior Manager: “Take five and get some air first.”

I didn’t quit, but my manager didn’t speak to me for about three weeks. And as far as I’m aware, the woman didn’t get the game.

I used to be a grocery employee and was almost always chained to the express lane.

I wasn’t ever one of the “popular girls” in high school, but I wasn’t a wallflower, either. Most people in my class knew me by sight if not by name.

One day, I was chugging away at my store, which was only four blocks from the school, when a guy known to be the Big Man On Campus — handsome, fawned over, popular, etc. — and his posse showed up in my lane.

Big Man On Campus: “Hey, you go to [School], right?”

Me: “Yes.”

I scanned his friends’ purchases. Knowing he was a Big Man On Campus, I suppose I was meant to be impressed he was even speaking to me. I wasn’t.

Big Man On Campus: “And your name’s [My Name]?”

Me: “Yes.”

Big Man On Campus: “Would you sell us alcohol?”

Seriously?! Let’s just suppose I was swooning over the fact that he knew my name; the managers’ station was literally three feet behind me. Any one of the four managers on duty could have looked over my shoulder and seen exactly what I was doing.

Also, all of us were underage for alcohol; I couldn’t sell it, and he couldn’t buy it.

Me: “Uh, no.”

The badgering began. I kept refusing to sell him any alcohol, and he kept trying all the VERY convincing lines like “doing him a solid” and “c’mon.” I saw the manager lift his head and squint at us, so I told Big Man On Campus that he was NOT worth the consequences.

He looked furious but shut up. Right after they left my lane, [Manager] came up to me and asked if I knew them and what they wanted.

Me: “They go to my school, and they wanted me to sell them alcohol.”

Manager: “What did you say?”

Me: “I told them ‘no’ multiple times.”

[Manager] just nodded and walked away, a suspicious scowl on his face. Not two minutes later, he was chasing them out of the store. They’d tried to steal what I wouldn’t sell them.

I never saw any of them in my store again.

One day, when I was fourteen — and looked WAY younger — I was with my dad in a liquor store. As my dad looked at some wine bottles, I wandered around, looking at some bottles with pretty labels. I was wearing a bright pink shirt and a skirt — I had no fashion sense — and the store’s employees wore dark red shirts and black pants.

This lady walked up to me.

Lady: “Where are the vodka and rum?”

I didn’t understand at first.

Me: “I don’t know.”

She looked insulted and raised her voice.

Lady: “Well, you should know that! You should try to be more respectful and help me!”

Me: *Confused* “Well, I don’t know where the vodka or the rum is, and I’m confused as to why I should know that and how it’s disrespectful not to.”

She was pi**ed. She started yelling.

Lady: “You should know the store better, and you should be more polite! I’m going to call the manager!”

And then, she stormed off.

At that point, my father heard a part of the conversation and came to ask what had happened. I told him, and he looked as confused as me.

The lady came back with a man in a store uniform and a tie. The lady was now red and angry.

Lady: “Your employees are rude, and they don’t know anything!”

The man looked at me and started laughing, along with my dad and me.

Me: “You really thought I worked here? I’m not even old enough to drive, let alone drink!”

She looked shocked and then offended. She stormed away without buying anything. We had a great laugh.

I work in an ambulance. I pick up an underage drunk teen. He’s misbehaving and making a mess of my ambulance.

Me: “Knock it off, kid.”

Teen: “I can say whatever I want and do whatever I want. My dad is the police chief, and he can have you fired!”

Me: “Okay, then let’s call your dad and tell him that his underage son was caught with a fake ID, was drunk as h***, pissed all over the inside of my ambulance, and then spit a snot ball at me.”

We took his drunk a** to the hospital and let them call his dad.