Possible gross-out to some: Being a woman at ‘that time of the month’ at Walmart was the seventh circle of hell. I have PMDD and sometimes I’d be so sick and faint that if I didn’t literally sit down on their disgusting floors, I’d lose consciousness. I had an older man—think Clint Eastwood with glasses—ask me if I…

Retail sidenote: Being a cashier and checking the fifties and hundreds = every random a**hole in the COUNTRY telling you, “Don’t look too close, har-har, the ink’s still wet!” I’d finally had enough and called a manager on one guy. His dad was right there, giving him the same “That’s what you get, jerkwad” look I was.