I am at the Renaissance Faire and come across a living statue performer. I put a five in her tip basket, and ever so slowly, she comes to life to thank me. Behind me, I can hear a man react with a very stereotypical deep Southern accent.

Man: “Well, g**d*** that is impressive! I thought she was a real statue and d*** near s*** my pants when she started moving. Give her some money; she deserves it!”

I’m fifteen years old. Last week, I had an orthodontist appointment. I decided to watch some Netflix while I waited for my name to be called; I started watching “Schitt’s Creek”.

A few minutes later, I noticed this middle-aged lady with blonde frizzy hair just looking at me in this weird way. Sitting next to her was a boy who looked about eleven years old and a girl who looked around four years old. I kind of looked up at them, and the woman gave me this weird smile. (She should have been wearing a mask as they are required in the waiting room.)

Lady: “Kids, go along and see what that girl is doing with her phone.”

I was really weirded out but, of course, I didn’t do anything. The kids got close — less than a foot away from me, and neither was wearing a mask. I was uncomfortable.

Me: *To the lady* “Can you please tell your kids to back off? They are way too close.”

The kids just got closer and started staring at my phone screen. At that point, I was so annoyed that I just turned off my phone, thinking they’d go away.

Nope. The mom saw and YELLED at me:

Lady: “Let my kids watch a show!”

Me: “No. I don’t want them to watch shows on my phone.”

She did not like this. She walked over to me, grabbed my phone from my hand, and started demanding the password — which, of course, I did not tell her.

At that point, my name was called. I grabbed my phone back and left the waiting room to go get my braces adjusted.

About fifteen minutes later, the eleven-year-old came and sat down on the orthodontist chair next to me — he too had braces — and he actually apologized for his mom. Honestly, I was surprised.

This story reminds me of a history teacher I had. He was SO strict, everyone was terrified of him. And his wife — a French teacher at the same school — was worse. Terrible bullies, the pair of them. But, for some reason, he REALLY hated me.

We had him for the first period after lunch, in a “terrapin block” — a set of “temporary” classrooms, set up on brick plinths on some waste ground beside the main school buildings. To access the classroom, you had to go up a set of steep concrete stairs. Because we couldn’t be trusted — naturally, as we were school children — the school mandated that these classrooms must be locked at break times. The first teacher in the room after break had to collect the key from the office and unlock the classrooms.

One day, [History Teacher] was very late. We were all queued up on the steps but stood to either side to allow him free access to the door. He made us line up with girls to the left (because they should be LEFT out of his lessons) and the boys to the right (because they were always RIGHT in his lessons); his reasons, as stated to us, are given in parentheses.

I happened to be at the front. Some of the other girls in the class were pushing each other forward, and therefore into me. I was using the door handle to anchor myself to push back against them, so as not to get in trouble with [History Teacher] by being on the right. He eventually came along.

History Teacher: *Very snappily* “I can’t possibly access the lock if you have your hand on the door handle.”

The lock was readily accessible. I tried to explain, but he cut me off.

History Teacher: *Angrily* “Remove your hand from the door!”

So, I did.

And just at that moment, one of the girls gave an almighty shove to the girl in front of her, who barrelled into me, causing me to barge into the teacher, knocking him off his feet, as he was completely unprepared.

He tried to give me a detention for that one, but the teacher in the adjoining terrapin confirmed my story — that I had tried to warn him and then done exactly as he told me — so that went nowhere. I don’t think it made him like me any more than before, though.

Related:
When You Wish They’d Cool Off A Bit

My boyfriend and I are out for dinner. It’s a special occasion for us because it’s not some place we can normally afford. We give each other “Happy First Anniversary” cards and make the most of the evening as we know it’ll be a while before we can afford a place like this again!

Boyfriend: “Can we get the check, please?” 

Waitstaff: “Actually, your bill has been paid for this evening. You’re all set!” 

Boyfriend: “Wait, what? Seriously? By whom?”

Waitstaff: “That woman over there.”

They point to an elderly woman sitting close by.

Boyfriend: *Waving her over* “Thank you so much! Would you like to join us for coffee?”

She politely declines. On our way out, we stop to talk to her for a minute and ask her why. 

Old Woman: “Oh, I was married for forty-six years. My husband passed, but today would have been our anniversary, and here you are celebrating your first on the same day we would have celebrated our fiftieth! And in the same restaurant! It was a sign. Go, be happy, and never… ever… take a moment with each other for granted!”

We’ve taken her words to heart ever since.

I work for a certain retail chain specializing in arts and crafts. I typically work on the floor, but this Sunday, one of the cashiers has called out sick, so I am covering the register.

A customer comes up to the register with two photo frames and some other things. I ring them up.

Me: “Your total is [amount around $30].”

Customer: “Oh, I thought the frames were ‘buy one, get one half off’. Why are they ringing up at full price?”

Me: “It’s [Brand #1] that is ‘buy one, get one free’, but you have [Brand #2].”

The customer says okay and pays, but after she is done, instead of heading out to the door, she turns around and goes back into the store. She comes back three minutes later and gets back in line. Once I ring up two or three customers, she is back at my register and pulling out her phone. 

Customer: “I went back and took a picture of the sign you have for [Brand #2]. It says, ‘Buy one, get one 50% off’.”

She turns the phone to me and enlarges the picture, and that’s when I see at the bottom of it: “Valid through [last Friday].” 

Me: “Ma’am, that sale was going on until last Friday. It’s right here, on the sign.”

Customer: “You should take the sign down, then. That date is in very small print. You can hardly see it.”

And she stormed out of the store. She really wasted all that time going back to take the picture and waiting in line all over maybe five bucks in discount at most. She should have read the sign.