*I speak perfect english…typical, mid-western, American accent…this is important to the story*

Me: Thank you for calling ******, my name is ******, how can I….

Customer: Get me someone who can speak English.

Me: Excuse me? Sir, I’m speaking English.

Customer: Whatever, give me an American.

Me: Sir, it sounds like you’ve had a rough time today, give me your phone number and I’ll make this as easy as possible for you.

Customer: *yelling into the phone now* Give me an American who speaks English!!

Me: Sir, I am American and I’m speaking English..

Customer: Sure, sure you are, now, GET ME TO SOMEONE WHO SPEAKS ENGLISH!

Me: Right away sir, one moment, I’ll get my supervisor for you.

*I really would have liked to have found out what happened to that guy…*

To put myself through university, I worked retail in the biggest mall in the world. It’s a major tourist destination almost 1000 km from the US border. American tourists are common, and some shops do accept US currency, but not all, and no one carries a separate American cash float–if you pay in American currency, you get Canadian change. Most people understand this.
Man: Do you accept American money?
Me: Yes, we do. The exchange rate today is [rate].
The man buys a small item and pays with a large US bill. I give him is change in Canadian money.
Man: I don’t want this.
Me: I’m sorry?
Man: This fake Monopoly money. Give me back real money.
[Note that Canadian bills are not all green; different values are different colours.]
Me: Sir, this is real money. It’s Canadian currency.
Man: Why would I want Canadian money?
Me: You’re in Canada…
Man: Give me real money! American money! You said you accepted it!
Me: We do, but we don’t have an American float. If you pay in US dollars, we exchange it at the current rate and give you your change in Canadian.
Man: That’s stupid!
Me: I’m sorry. I can refund your purchase and give you your original bill back if you want.
Man: I don’! I want my change in REAL money!
Me: I only have Canadian change. It is real money.
Man: This is why you’ll never get a real job! [Grabs his change and his purchase and storms out.]
(Since then, I’ve gone on to get my PhD. I now work in university administration. And anyone who’s ever worked in retail knows that it is an incredibly challenging real job!)

(It’s the afternoon and a bunch of customers walk in. The first one is a woman who looks very haughty. My coworker is eating lunch in the back office. Note: in check ins, we are not supposed to check ID of loyalty card members, unless they are suspicious. )

Me: “Hello, how are you today?”

Woman: “EXTREMELY well. My name is [Name].”

(We go through the check in process, with her holding her nose so high in the air I can practically see into her skull. Since she’s a loyalty card member, I just give her keys and a welcome letter.)

Me: “Thank you for being loyal to us. Here are your keys, and this is a welcome letter from the manager.”

Woman: *nods and takes keys and letter, and walks off*

Me: “Next?”

(I go through the rest of the line, and am about to call for help when I see the woman come back in a fury, pushing away the person that I was helping. He nods at me that he can wait.)

Woman: “WHAT is the meaning of this?!” *waving letter*

Me: “What do you mean?”

Woman: *banging hands on my desk dramatically* “I’m talking about my first name being misspelled on this letter?!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but that was the way it was transmitted.”

Woman: “Well! Well, it’s not correct! And if this hotel can’t even get THAT little detail right, then I don’t want to stay here at all!” *throws keys at me and flounces off*

(My coworker comes out.)

Coworker: “What was that about?!”

(I tell her what happened, and we think the woman is going to change her mind, but she doesn’t come back. The kicker was that her reservation was made through a third party website, so she was the one who misspelled her OWN name when making the reservation! The manager wasn’t thrilled to have lost her money–she was supposed to stay for 10 days–but we charged her for a late cancellation fee, anyway. I asked my manager, who had been working in hotels for decades if he had seen anyone do that, and he said never!)

I have a service dog due to an invisible medical condition. She wears a beige and red coat and has a bright blue collar, leash and head harness that read SERVICE DOG in two-inch letters all over them. Because she is a very large dog and an unconventional breed, she gets a lot of attention when we go out and it’s usual to have questions about her role and training. On this day, it was only our third outing in public and I was feeling confident because I hadn’t been challenged all day. I was in a pharmacy to pick up my medication.
Sales assistant: *running down the corridor* Excuse me!
Me: Yes?
Sales assistant: I don’t want to be mean, but next time you come you need to leave your dog outside.
(I look at [dog] standing beside me in all her gear, then at the door which is fifty meters away, then at my medication held plainly in my hands)
Me: Um, no. I’m not going to do that.
Sales assistant: It’s fine this time, but next time you really need to leave her outside. We can’t have dogs in here.
Me: I can’t leave her behind. She’s an assistance dog. MY assistance dog. I need her.
Sales assistant *nastily*: Well I wasn’t aware of that! And we don’t let dogs in here.
(I look at [dog] again to be sure – she is still clearly marked. Literally the only parts of her that don’t have some kind of identifying equipment are her tail and her paws. I’m confused by the hostility in the woman’s tone, and starting to feel anxious because I’d never faced being sent out of a store before. I really need my medicine, so I stand my ground.)
Me: But she is a service dog. She’s legally allowed to go anywhere I can go. It’s not safe for me to leave her behind.
Sales assistant: *throwing her hands up* Ugh! I know that! I wasn’t aware that she was an assistance dog! *glares*
Me: I – I don’t know what you want me to say here. She is one.
Sales assistant: Ugh! *storms away*
(I completed the rest of my shopping and left as soon as possible. It wasn’t a big deal but for someone relatively new to my condition and just learning to be independent again with the help of a dog, it was a devastating thing. It was very difficult to be brave enough to go into the next shop that I needed to, although the people working there were totally kind and absolutely appalled at the behaviour when I asked if there would be a problem bringing my dog inside.)

I work at a massage studio, where all we do is give massages. No facials, no pedicures, nothing else besides massages. None the less, on a weekly basis, this happens.

*Phone rings*

Me: [Name of studio] this is [me], how can I help you today?
Caller: Hi, I am wondering if [name I’ve never heard of] is available today?
Me: I’m sorry, who?
Caller: [Name], is she available for laser removal today?? I have this spot on my lower –
Me: *interrupts him* I’m sorry sir, I think you have the wrong number. This is [name of studio].
Caller: Where?
Me: *repeats name of studio*
Caller: Oh… so, y’all don’t do laser hair removal?
Me: No, sir, we do not..
Caller: Oh..
Me: Okay, have a good rest of your day. *hangs up*