(I’m gay, have been with my partner for 3 years and have just recently moved in together. We invite friends a family, and everyone is happy for us despite an aunt on her side who disapproves of our relationship. She essentially crashed the party and, although we’re out and proud, still said some very hurtful, personal things to my girlfriend. The next day I’m trying to confort my girlfriend and we go to a coffee shop we’ve gone to once before, order our drinks, and sit at a table.)

Girlfriend: *crying slightly* “I was never close to her, so I probably shouldn’t even care but to just… go out of your way to hate me?”

Me: “No, I know. You have every right to feel hurt.”

Girlfriend: “Maybe it was my fault for giving her a second chance. I thought her showing up was a sign that things had changed.” *starts crying more* “Maybe I shouldn’t have reached out at all? I don’t know.”

(By this point, I’m holding her hand across the table and, although I’m slightly aware of some sort of commotion in the back of the shop where the registers are, am more concerned with my girlfriend’s emotions than what is happening around me.)

Me: “Would it have been better to explicitly not invite her?”

Girlfriend: “I mean, she did say our invite was an ‘insult to God.'” *she gets quieter at this point.* “She said she’ll never see us again. Do you think that’s true?”

Me: “God, let’s *hope* so.”

(Suddenly, a woman who was exiting the shop swerves around to us)

Woman: “EXCUSE me?!”

(Both my girlfriend and I are caught iff guard by the woman’s outbust)

Me: “What?”

Woman: “WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME, YOU F***IN’ BUTCH D*KE?!”

(Something to note: although I cringe at the question and/or assumption that I’m “the guy” in the relationship, my girlfriend is considerably more feminine than I am, with long hair, slender build, makeup and dresses compromising 50-75% of the clothing she wears — basically the complete opposite of me. Another opposite, however, is the fact that she is considerably much taller than I am, and far more assertive. So the moment this woman began to insult me, my girlfriend turned from meek and emotionally vulnerable to filled with pure rage. She immediately stood up, revealing her 6’2″ hight (with heels), with mascara smeared eyes and a lion’s glare.)

Girlfriend: *icingly calm* “What did you just say?”

Woman: *color leaving her face* “Oh, I, uh-”

(My girlfriend took at step towards the woman, lightly scooting her chair further behind her and the woman bolted, almost crashing into the “pull” doors before flailing all the way out of sight. My girlfriend sat back down, and we both slowly began to laugh at the bizzare situation of it all. She even joked that that’s how she should’ve handled her aunt. We left shortly after, and were treated to a free cupcake a week later by the cashier who had recognized us before as a thank you. Apparently, the woman was a notorious regular who would always harass the staff, and would always threaten to “never come back!” despite still coming in every other day. However, after she had obviously misunderstood my response to my girlfriend and was confronted by said badass girlfriend, she hadn’t shown up since! We’re planning to be regulars there.)

(I work as a server in a casual dining restaurant. We have your basic bar food appetizers, some trendier seafood apps, and a pretty extensive selection of sandwiches and entrees. The hostess seats three older ladies in my section and tells me they asked for a drink menu.)

Me: *tries to greet the ladies and offer them a drink menu*

Customer #1: *looking at food menu* “Is this just the bar menu?”

Customer #2: “No the girl said she was bringing us a bar menu!”

Me: “Well I’ve got a *drink* menu here.”

Customer #1: “Can we eat the bar food anywhere?”

Me: “Your food menus are double sided! You’re just looking at the apps right now.”

(Customer #1 turns the clipboard holding the menu completely over so she’s looking at the plain wooden back and I have to demonstrate that she should just remove the menu from the clipboard to view the back.)

Me: “Can I get you started with some drinks?” *tries to show them the drink menu again*

(Customer #1 orders an old fashioned.)

Customer #3: “What white wines do you have?”

(I gesture toward the forgotten drink menu but I can list them from memory and I do so. She decides on a Chardonnay. Customer #2 wants one as well. I ring in the drinks and bring them over. The ladies are ready to order. Customer #1 and #2 go off without a hitch.)

Customer #3: “I’ll have the crab cake and a small dinner salad.”

Me: “What kind of dressing would you like?” *lists dressings*

Customer #3: “Caesar.”

Me: *just making sure* “Do you want a side Caesar salad or just a dinner salad with Caesar dressing?”

Customer #3: “Just a dinner salad. And what was the first dressing you mentioned?”

Me: “Thousand Island?”

Customer #3: “No…”

(I repeat all the dressings.)

Customer #3: “I’ll have the balsamic vinaigrette!”

Me: “So no Caesar…?”

(It felt kind of like we were doing “Who’s on First!”)

(I was eating out as a treat to myself at a “family” restaurant that I happen to enjoy. I was eating my meal when a lady came up with her kid and took the table behind me. I wasn’t paying much attention, until the kid started shouting really loudly.)

Kid: I wanna drink! Get me a drink!

(This repeated a few times, with no sign of the mother intervening, but I kept reading on my tablet and doing my best to ignore it. Then, something slapped me on the top of my head.)

Me: Ow! What the…

(I turned around to find the kid, standing on his chair with a menu in his hands and no sign of the mother at all. The kid has what I can only describe as a “Draco Malfoy-esque sneer” on his face as he looked at me.)

Kid: I wanna drink!

Me: *while glancing around for the brat’s mom* Too bad.

(The kid looked shocked, and suddenly threw himself backwards onto the table, knocking the salt and pepper shakers off, and started screaming as he waved his arms in the air. I wanted no part in this, so I scooped up my food and moved over to an empty booth a short ways away to finish eating my food so I could just get out of there. I probably should have just left, but like I said, this was a treat to myself so I wanted to enjoy it.)

(Just as I was finishing my last bite, I got a sharp tap on my shoulder, and I turned to see the mother from before.)

Lady: [Name that isn’t mine], why are you watch… *trailing off and turning white as she saw my face* “Who are you?!”

Me: Not [Name that isn’t mine].

(I then stood up and headed up to the counter to see about getting my bill.)

I teach dance to young children. This year, I have two children with very similar names in my 3 year old class. For ease of following the story, we’ll call them Katherine and Katelynn.
The issue is that they haven’t figured out how to hear the difference. Every week as I’m taking roll, the conversation has gone something like this:

Me: “Remind me of your name, hon.”

Student 1: “Kat (mumble).”

Me: “So… Katherine?”

Student 1: *nods*

Me (to Student 2): “So you’re Katelynn, then.”

Student 1: “No, that’s me.”

Me: “So then she’s Katherine?”

Student 1: “No, that’s me!”

Tonight I finally had a chance to ask one of the moms which one her daughter was. After some of the stories on here, I was a little worried that she would be offended that I didn’t know her little darling’s name. Fortunately, she thought it was pretty funny.

I’m the dumb one in this story.
I went to go upgrade my phone to a better model. The salesman was very helpful and informative, and things were going smoothly. I had been reading a lot of stories on Not Always Right, so I was joking with the salesman about dumb customers. We finally got to the point where I was setting up my google account on my new phone, and the conversation was still on dumb customers:
Me: “So, has anyone asked you to look up their passwords for them, or anything like that?”
Salesman: “Oh, all the time. It’s crazy how many people don’t know their passwords. So here’s your new phone, just go ahead and type in your password to sign in – you do know it, right?”
I knew he was joking, and we laughed as I went to type in my password – and it was wrong.
Me: “Um, I uh… It wasn’t right.”
Salesman: “So… you don’t know your password?”
Me: “No, I swear I do! Maybe I just typed it wrong, let me try again.”
Still wrong.
Me: “This is so weird, I don’t know why this is happening.”
It was embarrassingly ironic. Thankfully, it was only about a minute before I remembered –
Me: “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I updated my google password last week! Let me try the new one.. There! It works!”
The salesman breathed a sigh of relief and finished getting my new phone set up. I thanked him, and left happy, though still a bit embarrassed.