(I am a regular in my favorite store for comics, books and board-games. The owner is a big fan of one of the big labels, while I prefer the other. We’re talking about new comics, when a young woman enters the store. She starts talking to the owner.)

Young Woman: “Hey, I would like to start with [my preferred label] comics; could you help me?”

Owner: “Sure, no problem.”

(The owner turns to me.)

Owner: “Hey, you know [label] comics better. Would you help?”

(The three of us begin to talk about the comics. An overdressed girl enters, and overhears me talking about my favorite series.)

Overdressed Girl: “Are you f****** stupid? Those stories are s***, and they’re for little children. Read [other label of comics which is written mainly for children]; they are for cool people.”

Owner: “Stop talking like this, or I’ll kick you out.”

Young Woman: “I… I don’t know what I should read.”

Overdressed Girl: “A girl? Girls don’t read comics. Not even if they are as fat and ugly as you are.”

(The girl is not fat; she seems to be fighting her tears.)

Owner: “Shut up and leave. NOW!”

Overdressed Girl: “I’m the hottest person in here! You can’t make me leave! I’m the hottest in here, and all boys want me!”

(I turn to the young woman who is by now almost crying.)

Me: “Hey, you know she’s wrong. You’re much prettier then her! Uhm… do you… want to go out sometime?”

(The overdressed girl storms out. The young woman looks at me like I’m crazy. The owner is laughing hard.)

Owner: “Nice one!”

Young Woman: “T… thanks.”

Me: “Yeah… so, what about that date?”

(We started dating soon after, and are now engaged!)

Related:
A Comic Book Romance

(I work in a bookstore. I notice a woman listening to her iPod and mouthing the words, as she looks through the teen fiction section. I read her lips, go over, and tap her on the shoulder. She turns around, pausing the song.)

Woman: “Oh, I’m sorry; do you want me to turn it down?”

Me: “No, I just… are you listening to You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid?”

Woman: “… yes?”

Me: “I love that song.”

(She immediately beams, and unzips her jacket to reveal an Offspring shirt.)

Woman: “Me, too!”

Me: “That’s…”

(She holds out the book in her hands; a fairly popular horror novel.)

Woman: “I don’t suppose you like Kendare Blake?”

Me: “… so, I get off in half an hour. I don’t suppose you would want to go get coffee?

Woman: “As long as I can pay.”

(That was a year ago. I proposed to her last week.)

(I’m in a book store with a few friends when we spot a fairly attractive woman. One of my friends, who has a tendency to be extremely disrespectful and think he’s actually being complimentary decides he’s the only one who deserves to ask her out and approaches her.)

Friend: “Well hello, baby!”

(She doesn’t answer.)

Friend: “You lookin’ fiiiine, baby girl.”

(She stares at him for a moment, then rolls her eyes and goes back to her book.)

Friend: *moves closer to her* “I like that sexy a**, it look good and tiny in them jeans.”

Woman: *sarcastically and without looking up* “Kind of like how your brain looks smaller every time you open your mouth?”

Friend: <“Hey, f*** you! Who the h*** do you think you is, b****, you can't talk to me like that! Do you know who I am?”

Woman: *snaps shut her book* “Someone who very badly needs to return to elementary grammar lessons. Excuse me.” *walks away*

(Everybody near by was laughing so hard that his whining about how she was just an uptight b**** and he hadn’t done anything wrong was pretty much ignored.)

(I own and run the bookshop, and my friend is visiting me. My friend is female, fairly short and very thin. She has to wear a very noticeable hinged brace on her knee due to a childhood sports injury, but she is by no means helpless. I am male, a foot and a half taller than my friend, and in very good physical condition. I am is also well trained in hand-to-hand combat. A customer is in the shop, and approaches my friend, who is trying to find a book on the shelves.)

Customer: *approaches and shoves her* “Move, b****.”

Friend: “Hey! What’s your problem, man?”

Customer: “I needed to check this shelf for the book I needed and you were in the way.”

Friend: “And you couldn’t just politely ask me to move?”

Customer: “You don’t have to be nice to whores.”

Friend: “Excuse me?!”

Customer: “Well, that’s the only reason a woman would need a brace like that, if you were on your knees all the time. Only w****s are on their knees all the time.”

Friend: *trying not to lose her temper* “You do realize, don’t you, that there are a multitude of injuries that would establish a need for this sort of brace?”

Customer: “How dare you talk back to me, you fat b****!” *tries to slap her*

Me: *sneaking up on him and grabbing his wrist* “Not to be clichéd, but you owe her an apology.”

Customer: “No, I don’t! Why the h*** would I have to apologize?”

Me: “First, for shoving her. You had no business putting your hands on her. Second, for calling her a whore. You were being extremely disrespectful, and that’s something I don’t tolerate from my customers. Third, I’d bet your leg alone weighs more than she does. Again, you were being rude.”

(He takes a swing at me.)

Me: *puts him in a headlock* “Sir, you have two options. Both of them involve leaving, but whether you leave vertically or horizontally is up to you.”

Customer: “F*** you! You can’t do s*** to me!”

(I escort him, still in the headlock, to the front of the store and out the door.)

Me: “You are not welcome here. Don’t ever come back.”

(My friend and I started dating not long after that, and I’m asking her to marry me tonight.)

(My (now ex-) boyfriend and I met working in a local bookstore. He is off one day and asks if he can borrow my car while I am working, as his car is shared with his grandmother, who he lives with. I say yes, remind him of what time I get off work, and don’t think anything else of it. My shift finishes and he is nowhere to be found. I am standing in our parking lot, fuming, as another coworker passes me on his way out. He offers me a ride home. Just as I open my mouth to accept the offer, my car comes to a screeching halt in front of the store. My boyfriend bounds out of the car, gesturing excitedly for us to come look at something. We go out and my boyfriend is flipping open the hatch of my little mini-wagon. There in the back, is a shiny new mountain bike. He & our coworker begin excitedly talking bikes, etc. My boyfriend tells him that he just paid $275 for this thing, as he pulls it out of the car to be admired. I am hot, tired, and hungry.)

Me: “I’m glad you got a new toy. Can we go now?”

(He ignores me, goes on talking about the bike.)

Me: “Did you at least put some gas in my car, since you were out riding around all day?”

Coworker: *catching on to my worsening mood* “Uhm, dude? You might want to listen to her for a minute.”

Boyfriend: *to me* “Just a second.” *to co-worker* “Yeah, I live close enough I can ride to work every day now if I want to. No more depending on Grammy to let me use her car.”

Me: “I’m not trying to be a witch here, but I didn’t get lunch and really need something to eat. Can we please go somewhere and get dinner now?”

Boyfriend: “Um, well, I spent all my money on the bike. But Grammy’s got a bunch of leftover junk in the fridge so I thought we’d just go back to the house and eat there.”

Me: *stony silence*

Coworker: *facepalm* “You just blew it, pal.”

(My clueless boyfriend goes back to prattling away about how cool his new bike is. I get in the car and drive off, leaving him there. Might as well let him get used to the ride to Grammy’s.)