(I work at a popular retail clothing store. I am rather short at 5’0″ tall, and the clothing racks are the same height. With sign toppers on them, I’m practically invisible. This conversation happens over our headsets.)

Manager: “Someone get over to ladies, QUICK! There’s a little kid with a pole trying to get something off the wall! HURRY!”

(I’m in ladies, so I stop what I’m doing and look around. I don’t see any poles up.)

Manager: *approaches me, out of breath from running, and talks into his walkie* “It’s okay, everyone. It was just [My Name].”

(I spend several months abroad for work. During that period, because of a lack of communication between the tellers and the management of the first bank, I am considered “unreachable” and my account is frozen. On the account I have a standing order for my car’s monthly payments, so I promptly call their customer service…)

Operator: “[Car Brand] financial service. How can I help you?”

Me: “Hello, this is [My Name]. I have a problem with my bank account and now it’s frozen, but I’m abroad. Is there a way, like a bank transfer, to send my payments?”

Operator: “Certainly, sir. I need your account number, then we need to activate an automatic charge—”

Me: “I’m afraid it will not work. As I told you before, I’m now abroad and in this moment I don’t have any active bank accounts in Italy. I believe I can do an international transfer every month. Will that be good for you?”

Operator: “No, sir, the only way is via an automatic charge on a national bank account.”

Me: “Listen, the problem is that I have no bank account in Italy, I’m abroad, the car is abroad, and I won’t be back for at least eight months. So, you won’t have neither the money or a car to repossess.”

Supervisor: “Hello, Mr [My Name]. I’m the shift supervisor of [Car Brand] Financial Services. International transfer, you said? No problem, sir. You can send your monthly payment to…”

(Funny that when they risk losing money there’s always a solution!)

(We are using a relocation company as we are moving from America to France. We visit France for a week to look at apartments after giving explicit details two months ago about what we are looking for, including an elevator and for the location to be in center city. We are already upset because they only scheduled four appointments for the whole week, as this is the only week we can view places until we move here next month.)

Realtor: “Okay, the first apartment we are going to see is on the third floor with no lift.”

Me: “There’s no elevator? We requested an elevator.”

Realtor: “No, but it is only the third floor.”

Me: “Our dog can’t climb stairs. We need an elevator.”

Realtor: “What? I wish you would have told me!”

Fiancé: “We told you in the forms we filled out that we needed an elevator.”

Realtor: “Yes, but you didn’t give a reason! I just thought you wanted an elevator because it’s the American way but I figured you are both young and can walk.”

(The next apartment had stairs as well and the fourth was 20 minutes from the city center so we spent a whole week in France to see one apartment. Now my fiancé, I, my dog, and my cat will have to live in a tiny hotel room and we will have to pay the shipping company extra to hold onto our stuff until we can find a suitable place.)

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(I have the fortune and misfortune of sharing the same last name as Walt Disney. As such, I often get teased to death, OR my name becomes a gag.)

Me: *in line at a coffee shop* “I’ll have a cappuccino, please. No whip.”

Cashier: “Okay, and name?”

Me: “[First Name].”

Cashier: “And last name, just in case there’s two of you.”

Me: “Disney.”

(The cashier looks up, jaw drooping. I sigh inwardly.)

Cashier: “You serious?”

Me: “Yup.”

Cashier: “So… you’re the one who green-lighted Mars Needs Moms? And Cars 2? And that god-awful Shrek series?”

(I am wildly confused by this point as this cashier ais actually serious. By now, the whole shop has gone quiet.)

Me: “Shrek was Dreamworks.”

Cashier: *stares at me as I take my coffee and leave the shop*

(For some reason, he wasn’t in there the next time I went.)

(I am a freelance technical writer and my clients pay me through a very popular online service. As such, I have a credit card through this service that first taps into my balance with them, and then into my bank account as back up should my balance run out. One month before I am scheduled to leave my home in the United States to visit the UK, I call the company and let them know so that they do not freeze my card. The representative tells me he has made a note on my file. I call to confirm two weeks before, and again the day before I leave, since I’ve been a victim of “foreign transaction freeze” before. I am assured that everyone is aware of the dates that I will be in London. I also take out about $300 and have it changed for GBP just in case, so that I do not get stuck without transportation, etc. The day after arriving in the UK, I visit a popular tourist attraction and, after a tour, choose some souvenirs. I’ve only brought about £40 since I don’t want to carry around a lot of cash, so I plan to use my card for this. I attempt to settle up and the following occurs.)

Employee: “Oops, it’s saying your card cannot be processed.”

Me: “Oh, no. They’ve frozen it. I called THREE times before I left the country! I can’t believe it!” *check my phone* “And now my battery is dead from taking photos, and I can’t call them! Drat!”

Employee: *very sympathetic* “As it’s a U.S. number on the card I’m afraid you can’t call the direct line. However, let me see if I can use our kiosk computer to look up their UK branch.”

(She does this, and I call the UK branch of the company that issued my card and explain the situation.)

Card Company Employee: “Of course, ma’am, I apologize. If you would just put the account holder on the phone, we can confirm his identity and get the freeze lifted.”

Me: “It’s MY account.”

Card Company Employee: “No, Madame, the name is [My very unisex first name and very British last name]. We need to speak with him.”

Me: “I assure you, that is I. I am the account holder.”

Card Company Employee: “Don’t be silly. [Name] is a man’s name!”

Me: “I assure you, it’s a unisex name.”

Card Company Employee: “We have no such thing in England! This is a man’s name. Furthermore, [Surname] clearly belongs to a British citizen! I believe you are trying to perpetrate a scam, and I will report this to [Company]! Good day!” *hangs up*

(I hang up and relay what has occurred to the helpful employee and two others who are now interested in the exchange after seeing my face.)

Helpful Employee: “Oh, no! That’s terrible! I would be glad to put your items back and hold them until close tomorrow, so that you can go back to your hotel and call the U.S. branch of the company and get things straightened out.”

(I thanked her profusely, went back to the hotel, and charged my cell phone. I called the U.S. branch and explained everything, and while they were very apologetic, it took 36 hours to get everything processed and the hold lifted. I didn’t get any souvenirs from the #1 attraction I was there to see. I now never leave a hotel room without a fully-charged backup battery.)