(Note: I am black, while my mother is white.)

Me: “Two to see [R-rated movie].”

Cashier: “You have to be at least 17 or have a parent to see R-rated movies.”

Me: “Well, I’m 19 and this is my mom.”

Cashier: “That isn’t your mom! She’s white and you aren’t!”

Me: “What?”

Cashier: “White women can’t have black children.”

Me: “I’m adopted, you insensitive buttwipe! Now give me the tickets or I’ll take this up with the manager!”

(The cashier turns red and quickly finishes our transaction without making eye contact. My mother and I go to the theater and sit down.)

Mom: “…Buttwipe?”

Me: “Well, yeah. I’m not going to curse in front of my mother.”

Mom: “You make your mother proud.”

(I go to a specific gas station almost every day because I like their prices, coffee, and staff. Today, five of their gas pumps are all down at once, causing a huge line of cars.)

Me: “Is everything okay? I noticed a lot of gas pumps with the ‘out of order’ bag over them.”

Cashier #1: “Gee, I don’t know. There’s a HUGE gas truck out in the parking lot, and several pumps are down. Hmmm…”

(I notice she’s being overly sarcastic, as if the answer is obvious.)

Cashier #1: “Maybe it’s because we’re low on gas and people swarm here and guzzle it all down? Did you ever think of that?! UGH!”

(She leaves to go have a cigarette, and I turn to the other cashier.)

Me: “Long morning?”

Cashier #2: “You have NO idea!”

Me: “Hey [Manager], we need to change the oil in this fryer!”

Manager: “Why? You know how much trouble that is.”

Me: “Come see for yourself”

(The manager comes over and sees that there is a dead rat floating in the oil.)

Me: “See! We need to change the oil.”

Manager: “No, just get it out of there and heat it up. It will kill all of the germs.”

(That’s when I quit!)

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(I work in the deli section of my store. Today, I’m preparing some chicken wings while my manager is breading chicken for the fryer.)

Manager: “Hey, [My Name]!”

Me: “Yeah?”

Manager: “Look at these chicken breasts!”

(She walks over carrying an enormous raw chicken breast.)

Manager: “They’re bigger than mine!”

(She points to her chest for emphasis.)

Me: “…Alrighty then.”

(A former manager that retired has returned to work part-time. A very young coworker of mine doesn’t seem to understand the situation and has been asking the former manager the same questions for about a week.)

Young Coworker: “So, why did you come back? Aren’t you retired?”

Former Manager: “Yes, but I was kind of bored. Before I retired this place was my life, so when I needed something to occupy my time again, I decided to come back part time.”

Young Coworker: “But why? This place sucks! Couldn’t you get a better job?”

Former Manager: “It’s not just the place. I’ve been working with some of these people for years. I missed them.”

Young Coworker: “I don’t get it… that doesn’t make any sense! How could you miss this place? It’s awful!”

(My young coworker stomps away and I shake my head.)

Me: “You didn’t miss her, did you?”

Former Manager: “Not in the slightest…”