(In our high school, we have this one teacher that absolutely HATES phones. Doesn’t matter if it is a flip phone, a smart phone, a hand phone, or even one of those red old-school phones with the dial; if she sees anyone with their phone out, she will confiscate the phones and have them returned by the end of the day, and that’s after threatening to call parents and giving the offending student a half-hour talk after school. Even students who don’t have her and are just passing through the hallway in front of her door could have their phones taken. She is a bit… unstable… and if you’re wondering why parents and students don’t complain about her, they do, but she’s the only teacher teaching the subject right now, and admittedly, she’s pretty high quality compared to rest of the teachers at our school when she isn’t being super unpredictable, so nobody really takes any action against her. At the beginning of every year, she prints out and forces students to sign a contract stating that they won’t have phones in class or else she will confiscate them. Because the contract is signed by the students, the principal can’t find fault, so this kind of behavior continues for a good amount of time. That is, until one kid joins us midway throughout the school year. He’s not too late to be hindered by the new coursework, but new enough that nobody really knows him. He also has the same teacher as I do for homeroom, which means we are supposed to spend the next four years of our high school together. If I were to describe him, I’d say just picture him as a tall Asian guy with pretty unkempt hair and glasses; he’s pretty quiet, so naturally, not a lot of people expect much from him. This happens on the first day he joins our homeroom, the first time the teacher ever met him.)

Teacher: *slamming contract down in front of [New Student] while he’s scrolling through his phone* “I won’t allow any students of mine to use those worthless pieces of plastic in my class. You’re going to sign this contract. Read over it carefully, and if you break any parts of it, I will deal out punishments labeled on it as I see fit.”

(Everyone in the room is watching them, waiting to see what will happen. [New Student] signs the contract after barely reading it, before going immediately back to his phone. We can see a vein bulging in the teacher’s temple as she forces the contract in front of [New Student]’s phone screen.)

Teacher: *barely managing to keep it together* “Did you not read the contract?”

New Student: *just puts the contract back on the desk* “I did.”

Teacher: *tries to take the phone out of [New Student]’s hand* “Then give me the phone. You signed a contract stating that you wouldn’t use a phone in class, and since you’re using it, I’m going to have to confiscate it; you can have it back at the end of the day.”

New Student: *not even looking up, but wrenches the phone back* “Well, technically, contracts signed by a minor are not legally binding, so… yeah.”

(We could literally hear a pin drop in the silence that follows. The moment the teacher furiously leaves the classroom, we all sort of just crowd around [New Student] and congratulate him for standing up to the teacher that way.)

Student: “Is that true, that contracts signed by minors aren’t legally binding?”

New Student: *still scrolling through his phone* “Yep.”

(The whole class basically starts worshipping him at this point. Fast forward a few minutes: the teacher comes back with the principal and two security guards.)

Teacher: *points at [New Student], who is still scrolling through his phone* “There! That’s the student who disrespected me!”

Principal: “Calm down, [Teacher]. Let me handle this.” *kneels in front of [New Student], who looks up at him* “Hey. You’re the new kid, right?”

New Student: *nods*

Principal: *gestures towards [Teacher]* “Well, I just received a report from your teacher that you were being very disrespectful towards her in class today. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

New Student: *shrugs* “She made me sign a contract stating that I wasn’t to use my phone in her class, but since contracts signed by minors aren’t legally binding, I don’t have the follow said contract.”

Principal: *blinks before standing up* “I see.”

Teacher: “See?! He admits it!”

Principal: *to [Teacher]* “Well, technically, he’s right, so–“

Teacher: *screeching* “WHAT?”

(Cue the unpredictability mentioned earlier. [Teacher] went BALLISTIC, pounding desks with her hands and throwing chairs around. Security quickly restrained her and escorted the students out of there. The principal immediately fired her. She was signed up for anger management classes… for obvious reasons. As for [New Student], he got a detention, since he was technically disrespecting the teacher, but recently, I’ve found out he is going to a law school, so kudos for him.)

(I am sixteen years old and it’s my first day of working at a clothing store. After I clock in for the day, a bewildered-looking customer approaches me.)

Customer: “Excuse me, miss? I was just in the fitting room and I think you need to go in there right now.”

(Confused, I follow her to the fitting room. When I enter it, I hear two people in the handicapped room and it is obvious they are having sex. The customer laughs at the look of horror that is on my face and says she is just as uncomfortable as I am, so I ask the customer to follow me to the registers. Then, I go to the storage room to call my manager.)

Me: “Hi, [Manager]! I am sorry to bother you, but could you come down to the juniors department? There is… erm… a situation in the fitting rooms.”

(I explain the situation, and the first thing she says is:)

Manager: “Oh, my God, [My Name]! Are you kidding me?! Please don’t let anyone go into that fitting room until I get down there; where do these people come from?!”

(Luckily no one else has been in the department throughout this whole time, and ten minutes later, my manager and security come into the department. My manager apologizes to the customer while the security officer enters the fitting room. A couple of minutes later the couple walks out, looking as mortified as we all are, and are escorted to the loss prevention office as some of the clothing items they took in with them are damaged. When the couple is out of earshot, the manager turns around to me, looking apologetic.)

Manager: “I am so sorry this happened on your first day on the job, [My Name], but you handled the situation very well.”

Customer: “This is your first day?!”

(I nodded. I was still obviously uncomfortable so my manager sent me on break. While I was gone, my manager offered the customer who reported the incident a 20-dollar store gift card. Because I handled the situation so well and the customer felt bad about it happening on my first day, she insisted the manager give the card to me, instead, and wrote a good review about me to corporate. The next day, I found out from my manager that the couple had damaged at least $500 worth of merchandise.)

(I’m manning the shop while my manager is out for lunch. A man comes in asking about hunting knives. We talk for a bit and I show him several of our blades. He noticeably keeps asking to see the biggest and sharpest ones we stock.)

Me: “Well, there’s this.” *takes out a 15-inch bowie-designed knife*

Customer: “Oh, yeah! Can I see that?”

(I hand the knife over, while going into the spiel about the grade of steel, techniques for sharpening it, and so on. The customer seems very pleased as he tests the weight and then smiles at me.)

Customer: “You know what’s funny? You were actually just stupid enough to hand this to a random guy, with no idea what he intends to use it for.”

(He suddenly thrusts the knife at me.)

Customer: “Now, how about you walk me over to your register and hand over every f****** cent before I see how far I can sink this into your heart, moron?!”

Me: “Sir, if I may just ask, you are aware we’re a sporting goods store?”

Customer: “Yeah, so? Cash now, a**hole!”

(He thrusts the knife at me again. I tactfully back away while glancing over to my left.)

Me: “Could you please just read what the sign there at the bottom of the stairs says, then?”

(The customer-turned-robber looks confused, then cautiously turns to the sign.)

Customer: “‘Guns located on second floor’? What the…”

(He turns back to see I’ve now drawn my sidearm — I keep it holstered in a manner that it’s not immediately visible from the front — and have it aimed at him.)

Me: “Before you comment on others’ intelligence, consider that you walked in here and somehow missing both that sign and the one outside stating we carry all manner of sporting goods, including firearms!”

(He dropped the knife and booked it out the door, leaving me to call the police and give them a full report. I can understand why he thought this would work, since the way the store is set up it’s not immediately evident we carry firearms, but at the same time, who honestly isn’t aware that guns are also classified as “sporting goods” in a state that permits open carry?)

(I’m autistic and have bad anxiety. After a few hours of nasty customers, I’m physically shaking and doing all I can to keep from having a full-blown panic attack. I go to retrieve some carts from the parking lot to get away from customers for a bit when a car starts honking at me and the driver is yelling to get my attention. The sudden loud noise causes me to scream like a banshee. My instinct is to run and hide somewhere, but since the point of a car horn is to alert people to potential danger, I go over to see if someone is hurt and I need to call an ambulance.)

Me: “Did you need something?”

Driver: “Yeah, do you guys sell headbands?”

(I am browsing in a shop that sells jewellery, scarves, and other accessories. I find something I want to buy and wait while they serve another customer, a young woman who is trying on a necklace. Neither the customer nor the owner speak English as a first language.)

Customer: “I’m not sure. I think the chain might be a bit long.”

Owner: “We could cut the chain, if you like.”

Customer: *noncommittally, as if she’s mulling it over* “Okay.”

(The owner’s wife immediately snatches the necklace away and cuts the chain.)

Owner: “That will be [price].”

Customer: *looks at the necklace again and tries it on with the new chain length* “No, I don’t think I want it.”

Owner: “You have to buy it now. We cut the chain for you. We can’t sell it.”

Customer: “I didn’t ask you to.”

Owner: “You said, ‘Okay.’ ‘Okay,’ means, ‘Yes.’ You don’t speak proper English. I speak English. ‘Okay,’ means, ‘Yes.’ You must buy it.”

Customer: “I don’t want to buy it.”

(Then, the owner and his wife physically manhandled the woman out of the shop, yelling about how they were going to call the police on her. I threw down the thing I was thinking of buying and ran out of the shop, too, chasing after the woman, who was sobbing on the street, to console her. I still regret not calling the police on them for assault, or even saying something to them.)