(I am shopping at a chain superstore that has been running commercials about their price matching policy. The cashier begins to ring up my potatoes that are also on sale at the competitor.)

Me: “Those are two pounds for $1.00 at competitor.”

(I show the cashier the ad, but she ignores me and rings it up without the competitor’s price. They ring up at $0.88 per pound.)

Me: “Excuse me, those were two pounds for $1.00 at competitor’s store.”

(I show her the ad again.)

Cashier: “Yes, but our price is cheaper.”

Me: “No, the other store is two pounds for $1.00 and is cheaper.”

Cashier: “But our price is $0.88 and their price is $1.”

Me: “Yes, but their price is two pounds for $1.00 and that’s only $0.50 per pound, which is cheaper than $0.88 per pound.”

Cashier: “Two pounds for $1.00 isn’t the same thing as $0.50 per pound!”

(She eventually acceded, but not without acting like I was trying to pull something sneaky. I haven’t tried to price match since!)

(My mum and I are tourists in London. We have stopped at a pub for lunch which has multiple levels, bars, and restaurants in it. There is no table service, and not knowing where to go exactly, I approach the nearest bar.)

Me: “Hi, could I get two glasses of wine and a couple menus, please? Also, is this where we order food from?”

Bartender: “We don’t have menus here.”

Me: “Oh, sorry. In that case, just the drinks, please. Where can I go to get menus and order food?”

Bartender: “I told you, we don’t do menus here. There is one there I guess…”

(The bartender points to a lone menu on the bar.)

Me: “Umm, that menu is covered in spilled beer and coke and is sticky and unreadable. I am happy to pick up menus elsewhere. I just need to be told where, please.”

Bartender: “I don’t have menus! It’s not my job!”

(Hearing this, the duty manager comes over and asks what the problem is. After I explain…)

Duty Manager: “For god’s sake, [Bartender’s name], if a customer wants a menu, get your lazy a** out from behind the bar, walk two meters, and get her one!”

(The duty manager and the cashier actually argue for five minutes, making me and all the other customers nearby feel very uncomfortable. However, we finally get our menus and drinks. When we’re finished, I go to pay for the two drinks.)

Bartender: *obliviously* “That’s [amount]. Would you like to add a tip today?”

(I didn’t tip. Furthermore, when we did finally order and get our food, they messed up the order and the bread was burnt.)

(Note: I am a Criminal Justice major at a college in rural Virginia. The head of our department is notoriously sexist and racist but nothing has even been done about various claims filed against him. I see him walking by with a family, giving a tour.)

Department Head: “Oh, and as you can see, we also promote diversity on our campus by giving scholarships to a few less privileged students. Most of them, like these ladies, are in the nursing program because it’s fairly easy and there is a thriving work force.”

(He gestures at two female African-American students. Both are wearing business attire. One of the women, obviously having overheard him, calmly walks over.)

Female Student: “Hello [Head of Department], I see you are leading a tour around campus. My name is Jessica [Name of Major University Benefactor], Granddaughter of [Name of Major University Benefactor]. I am a Criminal Justice major and have been in your classes the past two terms. I used to think you ignored me because the classes were so large and I am still only in my second year, but now I realize you are a racist, sexist chauvinist. I wish you the best of luck in your future job because once I speak with [Major University Benefactor], you will be needing a new one.”

(She then walked away with her friend. Sure enough, the next term we had a new department head—a former US Congresswoman!)

(I’m in the drive-thru at a fast food restaurant picking up a quick dinner for myself and my boyfriend after work. As I pull up to the window, the cashier sticks her arm out and tries to hand me two packages of pancake syrup.)

Me: “Oh, that must be for someone else. I just ordered a chicken wrap and a burger.”

Cashier: “Uh huh. Here’s your syrup.”

Me: “No, I don’t need syrup. I don’t think that would taste too great with what I ordered.”

Cashier: “You don’t want syrup?”

Me: “No, thank you. Just the wrap and burger, please.”

(The cashier hands me my order, then tries once again to hand me the syrup.)

Me: “I’m good, thanks. Don’t need that. Have a good night.”

(As I’m pulling away from the window…)

Cashier: “JUST TAKE THE SYRUP!”

(Hurricane Sandy is fast approaching, so I decide to withdraw some cash in case we have an emergency.)

Teller #1: “Are you ready for the hurricane?”

Me: “Getting there. That’s what this cash is for.”

Teller #2: “Wait, you need cash for a hurricane? Why?!”

Me: “Yes, definitely. If there is no power and we need to buy something, then I want to have cash available.”

Teller #2: “What? That’s stupid! You could just use your debit card.”

Me: “But if the power is out, the machines aren’t running.”

Teller #2: “Then you’d go to the ATM!”