(My first child is sick and has been up all night crying with a fever. Before the store even opens, I am in the parking lot staring through the store window at the medicine I need with my sick, screaming baby. I can see and hear two employees nearby watching and making fun of me.)

Rude Employee #1: “Oh my god, do you see that? That crack w**** is here with her crack baby so early in the morning! I thought those kinds of people only came out at night.”

Rude Employee #2: “I guess you can never tell. I wonder what’s so important that she has to bring her screaming brat with her before we even open?”

(I ignore them as I wait patiently, but after another ten minutes my patience is wearing thin. I am about to tell them off when another employee walks up to the front doors and opens them.)

Nice Employee: “Ma’am, I know the store isn’t open for another twenty minutes, but I wanted to check on you.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. My baby has had a fever all night and just won’t sleep! I only need something to help her fever so she’ll stop crying.”

Nice Employee: “I see. Would you come with me, please?”

(He opens the door for me and lets me into the store.)

Nice Employee: “Get what you need and I’ll meet you on register one to ring you out.”

Rude Employee #1: “Hey! Don’t let that crack w**** in here. Her baby’s not sick! She’s just scamming you so she can shoplift!”

(Fortunately, the nice employee ignores them and helps me find what I need and walks me to the front of the store)

Nice Employee: “I’m sorry we let you wait out there so long. If I had known I would have gotten to you sooner. Unfortunately the registers are still not open, so I can’t ring you in, but I can let you go home with the medicine.”

Me: “But I have to pay for it. Let me at least leave some money here. You’ve been so nice; you can keep the extra as a tip.”

Nice Employee: “Ma’am, that’s very sweet of you, but I must insist you take your medicine and your sweet little girl home. As a single father, I have been in your shoes before, so I would like to pay for your baby’s medicine.”

Me: “Thank you. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you so much!”

(I always go back to that store just because of that one nice employee. He totally makes up for the rude ones.)

(I’m buying a common cold medicine that is OTC, but you have to be 18 to buy. At the time, I’m 19.)

Cashier: “I need to see your ID.”

(I hand it to her.)

Cashier: “Oh, I’m sorry. I can’t sell this to you.”

Me: “What? Why not? ”

Cashier: “Well, I have to be able to verify you’re over 18.”

Me: “Is there a problem with my ID?”

Cashier: “You were born in 1989.”

Me: “Yes, and it’s 2008, so I’m 19.”

Cashier: “But you could be lying because I don’t know how to figure out how old you are if you were born in 1989. It’s too hard to subtract!”

(When we get truck, they normally try and schedule it so at least one male is working to help, since the boxes are stacked up very high and often quite heavy. On this particular day however it’s me and the store manager who is notoriously lazy. I’m only five feet tall and he’s well over six feet.)

Store Manager: “[My name], I need you to start sorting the totes.”

Me: “I’m going to need some help.”

Store Manager: “There’s no reason you can’t do it!”

Me: “So, you think I should be able to scale the ladder, lift a bulky 35 pound tote and make my way safely back down?”

Store Manager: “Yes, why is that so hard?”

Me: “It’s not safe.”

Store Manager: “I don’t care how you do it. Just get it done!”

(He stalks off while I try and figure out how to do this. One of our pharmacy techs cuts through the backroom and sees me; I’m visibly upset at this point.)

Pharmacy Tech: “Hey, what are you doing?”

Me: “[Store manager] left me alone to try and get all these totes down.”

Pharmacy Tech: “Right, like that’s totally safe.”

Me: “He doesn’t care. I’m just trying to figure out the best way to do it to avoid not only hurting myself, but breaking anything.”

Pharmacy Tech: “Yeah, hang on…”

(He goes back into the pharmacy before reappearing and shucking his vest.)

Pharmacy Tech: “We’re slow, and like h*** I’m letting you do this by yourself. The pharmacist told me to go ahead and help you.”

Me: “Won’t you get in trouble?”

Pharmacy Tech: “I’d like to see him try and get me in trouble.”

(The tech helps me get the down so I can more easily sort the totes. After we’ve finished, the store manager shows back up.)

Store Manager: “I can’t believe you’ve only gotten this much done!”

Me: “Well, maybe if you were actually halfway competent you would have realized that you were supposed to be helping me! I’m one person, what exactly have you been doing all this time? Sit around on your butt texting in the office, most likely!”

Store Manager: “You can’t talk to me that way! I’m your boss!”

Me: “Not anymore!”

(I threw my name tag at him and walked out. Several other members of management called to try and get me to come back, but I refused. I found a job at another pharmacy and shortly later, my pharmacy tech buddy joined me there!)

(I am buying some make-up for myself. I have oily skin and very mild acne, so my dermatologist has recommended using powder foundations. I’m a student working part-time so I can’t afford the high range stuff, but I still buy reliable branded products.)

Cashier: “Are you wearing this now?” *screws up her nose at my powder*

Me: “Um yeah, I always get that one.”

Cashier: “Well, you should get [famous brand] matte foundation instead. We’ve got it for like $80. I bought some myself.”

Me: “Oh thanks, but I can’t really afford it! I like this powder because I just want some light coverage for blemishes and it looks quite natural. And it’s on special for $38, which sounds good to me!”

Cashier: “Ugh, but you’re so pale, and I can see you’ve got some gross little pimples by your chin! This stuff is way better. See?”

(The cashier points at her own face. True, she doesn’t seem to have any acne showing, but she hasn’t blended it to her neck and consequently looks like she is wearing a mask. On top of this, she seems to have applied several layers of the stuff and a load of bronzer, so the makeup resembles orange cake mix, set off nicely with false eyelashes and bright blue eyeshadow.)

Me: “Oh, yeah it is quite nice… but I think I’ll stick with my powder.”

Cashier: “Whatever…” *rolls eyes* “You’ll find the cheap tanning sprays over in the corner!”

(I am a college student and picking up my inhaler from a local pharmacy. I’ve just gotten a new prescription insurance card and need to have the information changed. Since I’m under my parents’ insurance, the card is in my father’s name.)

Me: “I’d like to pick up my prescription and update my insurance.”

(I hand the pharmacy tech the insurance card.)

Tech: “This is under a guy’s name. You’re a girl.”

Me: “Yes, that’s my father’s name. I’m included under his insurance.”

Tech: “So, you’re under your husband’s insurance. Let me see if I can update that.”

Me: “Father, not husband.”

Tech: “What’s your husband’s date of birth?”

Me: “That’s my father, not my husband, and it’s [date].”

Tech: “Wow! You look young to be married to someone that old.”

Me: “For the third time, I am under my father’s insurance. I’m not married.”

Tech: “Oh. Okay. Well, I need to show this to the pharmacist on duty.”

(She walks over to the pharmacist, who is still within my earshot.)

Tech: “Hey, this girl is under her husband’s insurance and I need help updating her info…”

Me: *facepalm*