I am on the train on my way home from university during the global crisis. Due to this and the fact that it is about noon in a smaller city, the carriage I am sitting in is almost completely empty. I decide that, rather than leave my laptop bag on the floor, I will place it on the seat next to me as I figure no one will want to sit there anyway.

Boy, was I wrong.

Enter an older lady. I can already tell we are going to have a problem when she gets on as she is not wearing a mask, and I can see a large crucifix on her neck. This is relevant because I am nineteen, I have tattoos and dyed blue hair, and I am wearing a mask I sewed myself. Oh, boy.

As she enters, she meets my eye and scowls, then walks towards me and decides she needs to sit right next to me, on my bag. I am very non-confrontational, but this is annoying me. She could have sat anywhere else, and I briefly worry she will break my laptop. I try to politely ask her to sit up for a moment so I can at least retrieve my bag, and she pretends she can’t understand me because of my mask. She just keeps repeating that I should remove my mask if I want to speak like a “civilised person”.

Eventually, I get fed up and just rip my bag out from under her, and I then make my biggest mistake by cursing under my breath. Suddenly, Karen can understand me perfectly and proceeds to yell at me about respect and God until my stop, despite me moving seats several times and blanking her.

The funniest part is that I volunteer at a nursing home, and I am Anglican, but I guess I don’t look like she thinks Christians should.

I work at a motoring and leisure store; we sell car accessories and camping equipment. One slow Sunday, I get a call that makes my day.

Me: “Thank you for calling [Auto Store]; how can I help you?”

Caller: “Hi there. I was just wondering, do you guys sell toilets?” 

Me: “Um, no, sorry. We do sell camping showers but not toilets.” 

Caller: “No, no. I’m after a house toilet, a white porcelain one, with preferably not a plastic top. Do you have any with those custom lids? Like with the 3D aquarium lid?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, we don’t sell toilets at all. You’re better off visiting [Bathroom Store] in the same complex.” 

Caller: “So, you don’t sell any fancy toilet lids?” 

Me: “No, sir. We don’t sell toilets.” 

Caller: “Okay, that’s fine.” 

Me: “Is there anything else I can help you with today?” 

Caller: “Yes. If I buy a toilet from [Bathroom Store], can you guys install it for me?” 

Me: “…”

In Australia, local council rangers are generally the people who issue parking fines for street parking. I worked for one of the most affluent suburbs council, who’s rangers were the authority for issuing parking fines.

The main drag had a free parking, but a maximum of half an hour. Being a very popular area, this was fairly strictly enforced. The fine for exceeding the maximum allowed time was $50.

We had one lady who was quite known to the council for being nasty to us. She parked her $120,000 Range Rover on the main drag, in said half hour zone. She exceeded the allowed half hour and was issued a parking fine by a senior ranger. The council offices were just down the road.

She came into the council office, ticket in hand, demanding to see the senior ranger. The senior ranger agreed to see her.

Lady: (being super nasty to the senior ranger) What is this s***? I was NOT parked here for more than half an hour. You are just revenue raising. This council is corrupt. You are simply picking on me because I’m rich. I bet you get a cut of this fine or something.

Senior ranger: When you park there for more than half an hour, or anyone else for that matter. we issue you an infringement notice. Simple

The lady continues on a rant, whilst the senior ranger just stands there, taking it all in her stride.

Senior ranger: Look, you were parked there for more than half an hour, thats why you were fined. You have a few options. Pay the $50, elect to take this matter to court, or supply the council with a statutory deceleration outlining how you were not there for more than half an hour, or whatever the case is.

(In Australia, A statutory deceleration is a legal document that you have notarized, swearing that the facts you are saying is true. It’s a criminal offense to provide a statutory deceleration with material that is false)

Lady: This is bull. I am going to submit a statutory deceleration. You’re all corrupt.

The lady indeeds properly submits a statutory deceleration, swearing that she was not there for more than half an hour. We accept the statutory deceleration, and withdraw the fine.

The council reviews the matter. The lady parked directly in front of one of the council’s CCTV cameras. So the council her to court on the charge of lying on a statutory deceleration. What I was told is that the council simply went to court, pressed play, showed the judge the time stamp of when she parked, played the video until she left, and pointed out the difference in the timestamps being 46 minutes.

As the statutory deceleration was proven to be false. not only was the $50 fine reinstated, she now has a criminal record.

I have been recently hired to work at a new store opening at my local shopping centre. The other new employees and I are all setting up the store — stocking shelves and setting up displays. We have yet to open and we have huge signs on display in our windows advertising the grand opening.

A guy walks up to one of the signs, reads the sign, moves along to next sign, reads that, and then opens the door.

Customer: “Hey, are you guys open?”

Supervisor: “No, we open next Thursday. It’s on the sign.”

Customer: “Oh, yeah, I read them, but I thought I’d come inside and see if you were open anyway.” *Leaves*

Supervisor: “Seriously?!”

Related:
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 36
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 35
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 34
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 33
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 32

I’m a late twenties female and I’ve just walked into a shop for car parts and accessories that I frequent regularly. It’s a really small shop, owner, older worker and a mechanic, all male. The worker and I get on really well, so when I see him, I like to stir him up. There’s one other male customer leaning against the counter. The worker tells me the other customer is waiting for the owner so I come up to the counter.

Worker: “Well good morning young lady! What can I help ya with?”

Me: *playing dumb* “Well, I need some paint.”

Worker: *playing along* “Do you now? What sort of paint?”

Me: “Ummmm… Car paint?”

Worker: “Oh yeah? What colour?”

Me: “To match my car of course!”

At this point I’ve looked over at the other customer and can see him smiling. I thought he’d caught on that the worker and I knew each other and found the whole thing amusing, until he says to the worker:

Customer: “Women ay? Don’t know the first f***ing thing about cars.” *turns to me* “Why don’t you take your husband’s car home and then get back in the kitchen?”

Worker: “That’s my f***ing daughter you’re talking to, dickhead.”

The customer went white as a sheet, just as the owner came out from the back office.

Owner: “I heard all that. I’ve had it with you harassing every woman that walks in here. Here’s your part, consider your account closed, and don’t come in here again.”

The customer sputtered for a bit until the owner made motions to come out from behind the counter. The customer scampered off and the owner, my Dad and I had a good laugh over it. And yes, I got the paint that matched my car!