(Going through the drive-thru, we notice a sign that says, “Paywave cards only,” referring to “contactless” payment, where the card is touched to the machine and no PIN is required. We get to the window and hand the employee our card. She walks away with it and comes back.)

Employee: “This card isn’t contact-lense.”

Husband: “Sorry?”

Employee: *impatiently* “This card isn’t contact-lense.”

(We exchange a glance and decide not to bother pointing out her mistake. We give her another card. She takes it, takes payment, and returns with our card and food.)

Employee: *huffy* “Next time, read the sign. ‘Contact-lense cards only.’”

(I am traveling for business and my laptop stops working. I am a female who works in a largely male-dominated business. I have a few emails that require attention, so I ask the supervisor at this location if I can log in to my email through his computer.)

Supervisor: “No problem. Let me just get it turned on and set up for you.” *completes login* “There you go. All set”

Me: “Thanks. I appreciate it. This won’t take long.”‘

(The supervisor takes a seat on the other side of the desk, but never leaves the room. I proceed to answer a few emails, but I get to one customer email that requires me to look up some information on an outside website. Assuming this will not be an issue with the supervisor, I open the browser on his computer and began typing the URL on the address bar. I don’t even get two letters into spelling the website name when the recently-visited sites begin showing. Much to my surprise, all the previous websites are clearly p*rnographic and most certainly NSFW. I stop typing the URL and just sit there for a moment, not knowing whether to be horrified or giggle. Not wanting him to catch me seeing this obviously private information, I try to quickly go to my website and finish the task. After completing my customer email, I log out of the supervisor’s computer.)

Me: “All done here, [Supervisor].”

Supervisor: “Okay, well, if you need to use it again later, just let me know!”

Me: “Thanks. I should be done for the day.”

(I quickly leave the area to go out to the plant floor. Fifteen or so minutes later, the supervisor catches up with me on the floor.)

Supervisor: “Are you sure you don’t want to use my computer again?”

Me: “No, that’s okay.”

Supervisor: “Well, if you liked those sites, you should have told me! I’ve got subscriptions to them all!”

(I just stood there, a mix of horror and disgust on my face. He just winked and walked away. I must have left the browser open when I logged out of the computer or, even worse, he planted those URLs, hoping I would find them in the recently-searched items. Rather than report this or confront him, I just ignored the issue; I was young and inexperienced at the time. After more misogynistic happenings, I left the company a few years later.)

(My boyfriend does some photo modelling on the side to help pay for university, mostly ads or brochures for local businesses. Since beards are currently in high-demand for male models, he’s been wearing a full beard for a few months now. A while ago, he did a photo shoot for a local country hotel, for an ad for their new spa area. Because the date of the photo shoot had to be postponed several times, they offered him a gift card in addition to his pay, which he saved for taking me to dinner on Valentine’s Day a couple of months later. We’re both adequately dressed, but as soon as we arrive, the head waiter gives us a strange look.)

Boyfriend: “Hi. We have a reservation for two today under the name ‘[Boyfriend].’”

Waiter: “Yes, I’m sure. However, there’s a little problem with this.”

Boyfriend: “Okay. What is it?”

Waiter: “You see, today is Valentine’s Day. A lot of people are taking out their wives or husbands for dinner, and it’s a very formal event for us. We’re trying to make this a very special evening for our guests. Because of this, we don’t want our guests to have to put up with… well…” *gesturing a full beard with his hands* “…certain sights.”

Boyfriend: “I see! In that case—” *gesturing ‘wait a second’ with his fingers and taking a stack of advertising brochures from a nearby stand* “—you’d better get rid of these!”

(He unfolded a brochure, and on the first page there was a picture of him relaxing in their state-of-the-art whirlpool. While the waiter turned fifty shades of red, we turned around and left, and instead went to a pizza parlor near our apartment. We had a lovely evening laughing about the ignorant waiter.)

This story is part of the Valentine’s Day 2024 roundup!

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(My manager and I are talking about projected business levels while a coworker putters around. Note that this coworker is a great guy, but can be a little adorably clueless sometimes.)

Manager: “Hmm… Valentine’s isn’t too busy yet, but we get a lot of walk-ins usually, don’t we?”

Me: “Yeah, lots of people come in looking for last-minute bookings.”

Coworker: *incredulously* “Really? Why?”

Me: “Seriously?”

Coworker: “Yeah, I mean, why get a hotel room on Valentine’s? There’s nothing here to do!”

Me: “Yeah, there definitely is.”

Coworker: “Like what?”

Me: “We’ll tell you when you’re older, [Coworker].”

(My manager cracked up laughing. It should be noted that my coworker is a man in his twenties.)

(I am at a coffee shop. I am wearing a normal t-shirt and black pants. None of my stuff is ripped or worn. I go to order.)

Me: “Could I get a double chocolate-chip frap, largest size, with a protein boost, please?”

Barista: “The protein boost is extra. Are you sure you can afford that, sweetie?”

Me: *stunned by her rudeness* “Never mind.”

(I left and never went back.)