(My husband and I own a pub. While I am away interstate visiting family, a new security guard is hired. His job is mainly to check IDs and keep out or remove drunk people. Upon returning, I stop by to see my husband.)

Me: “Hi! You must be the new guard.”

Guard: “You can’t come in.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Guard: “You’re pissed; you can’t come in.”

Me: “What? I haven’t even had a drink.”

Guard: “Bulls***. I can smell it on you. Now, leave before I call the cops.”

Me: “Look here. I don’t think you realize—“

Guard: “Are you deaf, as well as fat and ugly?! You’re not coming in. Now, waddle off before I call the cops.”

Me: “Listen here. Get [Husband] out here now!”

Guard: “You really are as stupid as you are fugly. F*** off or I’m calling the cops.”

(I pull out my phone and call the pub, as my husband would not likely answer his mobile.)

Husband: “[Pub], [Husband] speaking. How can I help you?”

Me: “Hey, babe, it’s me. The new guard isn’t letting me in. Can you come out, please?”

Guard: “Your pathetic little boyfriend isn’t going to get you in. I say who comes in, and a fat, ugly piece of s*** like you is not getting in. Now, f*** off before I kick both you and your boyfriend’s a**es.”

(My husband is still on the other end of the phone and hears everything. He and the other guard, who is working inside, come rushing out.)

Husband: “[Guard], what the h*** do you think you’re doing?”

Guard: “This woman is drunk and refuses to leave. I’m about to call the police.”

Husband: “No, you’re refusing to let a sober woman in, who also happens to be my wife and an owner of this pub. [Other Guard] will get your stuff; you’re banned from here for life.”

Guard: “But, but… I didn’t know she was your wife. That’s not fair!”

Husband: *now practically shaking with anger* ”It doesn’t matter if it’s my wife or another patron; you should never speak to anyone the way you just did. You’re lucky she hasn’t kicked your a** for it. Now, I suggest you apologize before she does or calls the cops for threatening her.”

Guard: “Umm… I’m sorry. Please don’t fire me.”

Husband: “Too late. You’ll be lucky to get another job after this gets out. You need to get off our property. Go to your car and [Other Guard] will bring out your stuff. You’re hereby banned from here.”

(The guard walked to his car while calling me various names and yelling how this was all my fault. Over the next week, he kept ringing the pub and when I’d answer he’d threaten me. Also, my windshield was smashed, the side of my car was keyed, and my tires were slashed — all caught on the CCTV cameras. Eventually, he was charged with malicious damage and making death threats. He was sentenced to eight months in jail and lost his security license.)

(I’m 15 and doing compulsory work experience at a supermarket near my house. The school organised the placement for me, as I was off school due to appendicitis. I’ve been diagnosed with ADHD since I was twelve; I take a dose of medication in the morning, and a tiny dose around lunchtime. The manager — who has made it very clear that she doesn’t like me — sees me taking the half-tablet during my lunch break. She storms over and grabs the pill bottle from me and starts reading the label…)

Manager: *after reading the “controlled drug” warning on the bottle* “I’m calling the police, and your school.”

Me: *dumbfounded* “What?”

Manager: “You’re taking illegal drugs. Where’d you even get this from?”

Me: “It’s not illegal with a prescription, and my neurologist prescribed it to me for ADHD.”

Manager: “You don’t have ADHD. You’re just saying that.”

Me: *getting over this crap* “You know what? I don’t care. I have my school ID with my picture and my name on it, and that’s proof enough that the bottle’s mine, and that I’m taking it by prescription.”

(My thinking is that I don’t care if she calls the school as they have my meds on record, and if she calls the police I can give them the number to my neurologist’s rooms.)

Manager: *smugly* “Well, then, I will. Even if these are your pills, you should know not to carry this many around with you at once.” *there’s only half a tablet left in the bottle*

(She called my school first and they explained everything to her, so the police weren’t called, thankfully. But my school sent me an email saying not to go back in to the work experience. How could someone be stupid enough to not even read that my NAME was on the bottle? I guess she just really didn’t like me for some reason.)

(Very worried about my husband getting a motorcycle, I go shopping for protective gear.)

Me: “Excuse me, do you have Teflon-coated pants?”

Shop Assistant: *slightest pause* “Certainly, right this way.”

(It wasn’t until afterward that I realised what I said. He kindly sold me Kevlar pants without batting an eyelid or making a frying pan joke, and I’m sure was laughing afterward. It was a pointless purchase, anyway. The bike landed on his knee and smashed the top of his tibia. Day one. Not even on the road. Oh, well.)

(I overhear this conversation at a salad bar after grabbing some food during my lunch break.)

Customer: “Oh, and can I get no potato in that?”

Employee: “I’m sorry, no potato?”

Customer: “Yeah.”

Employee: “In your potato salad?”

(It’s late at night and I’m walking home from work when I drop into a well-known fast food joint. I have just completed a twelve-hour shift and am walking forty-five minutes home as my car isn’t working. My brain isn’t exactly in gear.)

Me: “A small white hot chocolate, two sugars, please.”

Cashier: “What milk?”

Me: “Small white hot chocolate, two sugars.”

(This repeats twice.)

Cashier: “Nonfat or full cream milk?”

Me: “Oh, crap. Full cream, please. I’m so sorry. Long day.”

Cashier: *laughing* “No problem. [Total], please.”

(When my drink is ready she has included marshmallows and a chocolate muffin.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but I didn’t pay for the marshmallows or muffin, and I don’t have the money for them.”

Cashier: “We’re shutting the cafe now, so they’re on the house. Hope your day gets better!”

(Thanks to the cashier who made my day a lot better and put up with a stupid customer.)