All I wanted was a Blackberry Curve

That's not too much to ask.
Anne at the Verizon store clearly felt differently. As I approached Anne, I knew she was trouble. Standing there in her matching 90's floral patterned skirt and top, I knew I wouldn't be leaving with a Blackberry.
I told Anne that my current phone was broken in numerous ways, which were all true. Anne then lowered her voice into that annoying as shit babysitting tone and said, "well honey, I don't know if you're aware, but you'll need your daddy here to help you." I'm past the age of eighteen, bitch. I'm old enough to prostitute but not old enough to buy a phone? I explained that I was an adult and had a credit card and was also due for a phone upgrade. I thought that maybe I could entice her with offering up my gym membership as a trade to Anne, which seemed charming and necessary. No go. "Your daddy will have to help you with an upgrade, I'm sorry," is all she said. That's a lie. An unprofessional, undeserving of a job lie. So I stormed my mature ass out of that store.
All I can do is count my only blessing: she did not get my commission that day.

The next day I ventured to a better, more nurturing Verizon store where a nice, pretty woman worked. She sold me my Blackberry and set up my email in no time. I smiled and said thank you as I tried to wash all of the Anne-encrusted memories out of my mind.

But ultimately, I came out on top: with a Blackberry AND a gym membership.

Assholes work at Qdoba

I think it is very inappropriate when professionals laugh at you (not with you, AT you).

Sometimes, we find ourselves buying food at the ungodly fattening Qdoba for our family members, and we pronounce the word "ancho" wrong. If anyone does know how to pronounce it, please, let me know. I'm not sure if they've been notified, but their operation does exist in the midwest, hence making "ancho" difficult for the common English-speaking citizen to pronounce.

After ordering the "ahn-ko" burrito, sometimes the very unprofessional burrito makers stop EVERYTHING they are doing, take a step back from the tortilla fryer, look at the four other people behind the unreasonably crowded counter, including the MANAGER, and laugh at us. And then sometimes we start to cry openly, so they feel like shit. They then proceed to make your annoyingly guacamole-heavy burrito and charge you the normal amount. If I had that job (which I would not.), I would first of all not have laughed at me for speaking English, but also would not have charged me the full price. They are unnecessarily money hungry.

I don't know if they took my tears to heart, but they certainly noticed them. It felt nice. But it also made me wonder, why am I still unemployed when these offensive assholes get a paycheck weekly?