While I was taking some college classes, I worked at a really lovely little convenience store. It was owned by people I knew from volunteer work, and I loved working there. We sold mostly snacks and cigarettes. Most of my coworkers were awesome, my boss was awesome, and I just really liked it there!

On with the story. Part way through the year I started wearing a headscarf. (I am a Christian, but would wear my headscarf in a way similar to the Muslim hijab, because it was most comfortable for me. For those who may not have a ton of religious background, women in brethren churches often choose to cover their hair.)
I was wearing a headscarf out of church for two reasons: I wanted to get used to wearing one (my family didn’t really do head coverings, and it was something I wanted to start doing), and because it helped block out some of the noise of the fridges in the shop.

A customer comes in and compliments my headscarf. I thank her. She then asks if she can buy it off of me. I laugh it off, assuming that she’s joking, and realize that SHE IS SERIOUS. She keeps asking and doesn’t seem to want to take ‘no’ for an answer. Eventually, I realize that I should give it to her, so that the situation doesn’t escalate. So I take it off and hand it to her. She says thank you, makes a purchase, and walks out, headscarf in hand.

A few days later she came by with a pair of socks and a card for me. When I got home and opened it, I FOUND A JEHOVAH’S WITNESS PAMPHLET AND AN INVITATION TO GO TO HER CHURCH.
I finally put two and two together, and realized that she must have assumed that I was Muslim and, disliking the fact that I was wearing a head covering, decided to convince me to remove it and try to convert me. I was SO upset!

Never saw her again, but I hope that I didn’t encourage her to bully actual Muslim women. That kind of behaviour is totally inexcusable, regardless of your belief.

TLDR; Woman walks into my work, assumes that I am Muslim (I’m not) convinces me to give her my headscarf, and then tries to convert me to her belief (Jehovah’s Witnesses).

I am a single female, and in March I signed a 12 month lease for a wonderful ground floor apartment outside of the city. It was almost perfect in every way, and even meant I was less than half an hours walk away from my parents.

4 months later my landlord tells me he is going to sell the flat and that he is giving me 2 months to get out. I was floored, not least of all because I had spoken to him on several occasions about staying here long term. He apologises, says that he loses more money than he earns on it, but that the estate agents know about the situation and will help me find a place.

My anxiety goes into overdrive, and I am a mess. My parents, sister and best friend are of great comfort and offer me a good ear, and helpful solutions.

A few days later I go to the estate agents and discover that, no, they had no idea about what my landlord was doing and go over the lease with me – pointing out that there is no break clause in it, meaning my landlord CANNOT make me leave before the end of the 12 months.

I text my landlord and tell him this a few days later, and he phones me up demanding to know what I think he should do, asking if I would prefer him to default on the loans, have the bank take the flat and evict me (I later found out that would be unlikely to happen for a variety of reasons), and when I point out that I need more than 2 months to recoup my funds from moving *4 months ago* and want to find a decent place he starts to get aggressive.

He says that he has already promised to return my deposit to me (yeah, I would expect that to be the very least he can do!), that he will give me a good reference (again – yes, because I am in good standing), and even offered to help me move (I mean, if you want to deal with my angry parents, my sister and my brother-in-law, then go for it bud). When I tell him I need more time, and the contract is on my side, he then drops the bombshell that he *hand’t read the lease* before he signed it! That he had just assumed it would be 6 months, despite our previous conversations.

He then said that if I planned to stay until the end of my tenancy and not leave sooner, then he “would not be inclined to give me a good reference”. After I sputtered a bit in sheer shock at what had just been said, he asked how much it would cost to get me to leave.

I was furious, and hung up after telling him I needed time to think. I spoke to the estate agent (who was delightfully livid), and with the agreement that they would provide my reference and the recommendation that I do whatever I deem to be in my best interest, I have started house hunting again.

At this point I am doing only what is right for me, and if it takes me 2 months or 6, then so be it. He seems to be honestly shocked that I am angry at him, and has spend the last few days passive-aggressively implying that a couple of repairs that I needed (a broken toilet and a busted oven), had contributed to his losses, and trying to say that it was the estate agents fault for ‘lying about the lease length’.

Fingers crossed I can find a new place soon – not for him, but for my own sanity!

It’s drizzling a bit outside as I exit a mall. Walking in front of me are two boys, roughly 12 or 13 years old.

boy#1: “Whoa.. wait up! I’m not going outside in this!”

biy #2: “Yeah man it’s like… we’ll get wet and shit!”

I pause just before the exit to get my hoodie up and I feel the boys stare at me for some particular reason. I look over and see them giving me a look like I’m crazy to go outside.

me: *lightheartedly* “Ah, we are not made out of sugar are we?”

Boy#2: *in a very serious and even almost agressive tone.* “Yes, we are!”

Okaaaay then….

I’m walking through the mall with my mom and we’re passing through an area with several kiosks, each with one or two people trying to hawk their wares.

Salesman: Hey there ladies! Can I interest you in some products from the Dead Sea? Guaranteed to make your skin beautiful!
Me: No, thank you.
Salesman: *begins following us* Are you sure? Here, try it on your hands! *begins reaching toward me with lotion at the ready*
Me: I said no. Thank you.
Salesman: *goes to grab for my shoulder to stop me* But wait! It’s a really good deal! You need to try this!
Me: *whips around and out of his reach* Listen to me, buddy. I’ve been polite. I said NO. Twice. When someone says NO, you move on and leave her alone. Got it?!
Salesman: *blinks, mouth agape*

Poor guy, I think I broke him. I glanced over my shoulder after we walked away and he was still standing here like that. I understand he was trying to make a sale, but being an a****** about it isn’t the way to do it. I don’t usually mouth off at people like that, but damn, how rude can you get?! No means *surprise* NO!

My little Maltipoo would frequently start ‘crying wolf’ in her old age. Our front door had windows off to the side, and our living room had massive windows to look out. She’d just look out of one of those windows and bark at absolutely nothing at random. We eventually figured out that if we ignored it, she’d eventually stop.

One night, I’m home alone and she starts barking again. By this point, I’ve gotten so used to it that I can ignore it easily. Only… she’s not stopping. She just keeps going and going and going. Eventually, I’ve had enough and I head upstairs to find out what’s going on.

The first thing I notice is that the outside lights are on. Those are set on motion sensors. Anything moving outside turns them on, and they’re extremely sensitive. However, with the lights on, I’m able to see a shadowy figure running away from our house, and my mom’s van is covered in toilet paper and ketchup.

Our family is no stranger to vandalism; my mother is a high school math teacher well known for being pretty stern. Our town had a bunch of idiots and assholes, and for some reason, my brother was friends with them. Because of that, they knew exactly where we lived. This wasn’t even the first time the van had been targeted; just the day before, it had been covered with saran wrap and canned meat while we were out.

I’m pretty sure she decided to get back at me for not listening to her, because a few weeks later, one of those assholes got drunk, came into our house (my parents had the front door open and the screen door closed because it was a hot summer night and they were trying to cool down, and the screen door doesn’t lock), chucked a rock down the stairs, and took off, and she didn’t make a sound.