(I work at a makeup store that sells rather expensive products on one side of the store that we call “Prestige.” On the other side, we sell what we call “mass,” which are cheaper, more widely available products. We offer coupons that are usually only good for our mass section, but for a small amount of time we have a coupon that is available to use on the Prestige cosmetics. When these coupons come out, we usually have a rush of people that get excited to use them since they are rare. Note: We currently have a coupon out for our Prestige products. This coupon can only be used one time and it is clearly stated across the bottom of the paper.)

Customer #1: “I would like to do two separate transactions. I’d like to use the money I have saved up on my rewards card for one, and then use my coupon for the other.”

(I happily do this for her, even though two separate transactions takes longer and holds the line up even more. After I use her coupon on her first purchase, I move on to ringing up the second.)

Me: “Your total for this purchase, after your rewards points, is [total].”

Customer #1: “Is that with the coupon?”

Me: “I used the coupon on the first set of items like you asked, ma’am.”

Customer #1: “Well, I want to use it on this one, as well.”

Me: *cringing because I know how she is about to react* “I’m sorry, but these coupons are only available to scan once. After that our system will void the coupon as invalid. I didn’t realize you wanted to use it on both. I thought you wanted to use your points—”

Customer #1: “OF COURSE I WANTED TO USE IT ON BOTH! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME IT WAS A ONE-TIME COUPON?!”

(She goes off into a rant about how she would have just used all of her points on one purchase, how I needed to tell her that it was only a one-time deal, and many other things that go over my head as she continues to yell. Meanwhile, the entire line is watching her go off on me. Finally, my manager comes over and tells her that it is written on the coupon that it is one time only, but ends up giving her the 20% off, anyway, to keep her happy. The customer finally leaves and I am left, slightly shaken, to take care of the next person in line.)

Customer #2: “So, I have one of those coupons to use, but I’m not going to yell at you about it.”

(I’m queer. I don’t hide it from my coworkers, but sometimes I have to openly state it before they realize otherwise. Currently, I’m working in the kitchen and frosting donuts for the next morning.)

Me: “Hey, [Coworker], do we have any more rainbow sprinkles?”

Coworker: “I don’t think so. What we have on that shelf is what we’ve got.”

Me: “D***, how am I going to make these donuts as gay as I want without rainbow sprinkles?”

Coworker: “Now, [My Name], that’s not the right word to use.”

Me: *after a pause* “These donuts are now gay. Just like me.”

Coworker: “Oh!”

(We then had a nice chat where he told me all about his awesome, butch aunt.)

(I’m in college, coming back from a cross-country meet with my teammates. Our school is small, so we take two mini-buses and have our coach and assistant coach drive them. I’m on the bus with our assistant coach, only about five minutes away from home, when we run out of gas. We pull over to the side of the road and try to call our coach and his wife. Another truck pulls over and my assistant coach goes to talk to the driver.)

Assistant Coach: “Thanks for stopping; we have a bit of a problem, here!”

Truck Driver: “Hey, do you know what time the cafeteria closes at [Other College in our town]?”

Assistant Coach: “Uh, no. We’re actually from [College], but we’re kind of out of gas.”

Truck Driver: “Oh, yeah? I’m running a bit low, too. Thanks, anyway.” *drives away*

(Eventually, our coach’s wife did bring us some gas. I still wonder if that guy eventually realized we were asking him for help.)

(I work with my sister at a vegan bakery. It’s her first job. It is January, so typically cold. I show up the first day before sunrise and it is freezing inside — literally. The building is separate from the main restaurant.)

Me: “Why is it so cold?”

Sister: “Oh, the owner doesn’t have heat installed in here. Don’t worry; it kind of warms up after a few hours when we turn the oven on.”

(Later, I start to mix a recipe with a spoon.)

Sister: “Oh, no, if the owner comes back here and sees that, we get in trouble. We have to use our bare hands.”

Me: “Seriously? Bare hands? And it’s all freezing?”

Sister: “Yeah, otherwise we get yelled at and she starts coming back here a lot more to check.”

(Another day the owner came back and hurriedly LOCKED US IN. There were bars on the window; we literally couldn’t get out if there was a fire. She did this for several days because, as we found out later, the health inspector was around and she didn’t want him to know that building was in use. It’s really hard to find a baking job, so my little sister begged me not to say anything. I got my revenge quite unintentionally. On one of my last few days, it was so cold I wore my longest coat. I got so many glares from the owner and the staff in the actual kitchen, all family members, and I couldn’t figure out why. Then I realized: they are all Hindu. My coat? A calf-length white LEATHER trench coat. Oops. Shortly after I moved on, my sister gave up as well. She made new recipes for things like their tea cookies, following all vegan guidelines, but they were rejected because, “They didn’t taste vegan,” “They weren’t hard enough,” and, “No one would believe they were vegan.” After she left, someone sued because the cookies were so hard they broke a tooth.)

(I work at a video game store. As a female employee, I’m unfortunately used to being hit on by customers while working. I approach a pair of customers on the floor: a young guy around my age and a much older man. When I ask if they need help, the older man is very friendly and strikes up a lengthy conversation with me about games he used to play. It is a pretty pleasant interaction until this moment:)

Customer: “Wow, you really know your stuff! Any chance you’re free this weekend? My son could use a date!”

(I awkwardly tried to laugh it off, while the poor son didn’t even look embarrassed, just tired and disinterested like this happened a lot.)