(I am in the waiting room at a local tire place. A pickup truck squeals into the parking lot. A guy storms out and into the store. He demands a manager so he could dispute his son’s tire bill.)

Manager: “How can I help you, sir?”

Guy: “My son was in here earlier today, and you overcharged him! It shouldn’t have been [first amount]; it should have been [second amount]!”

Manager: “I quoted your son—as I do all customers—both amounts, sir. He chose the [first amount] option.”

Guy: “No, you didn’t! He said that you only gave him the [second amount] option. That’s too much for the menial service you provided.”

Manager: “I wouldn’t have done that, sir. I quoted him both options, and he chose the [second amount] option. He wanted, and I quote, ‘blingy-er rims’.”

(The guy realizes that he hasn’t been overcharged, and stops looming over the manager.)

Guy: “It just isn’t right that my boy has to use up his whole paycheck on tires! He’s a hardworking boy. It’s just isn’t right!”

Manager: “No, sir. It just isn’t right that I should have to dock my own paycheck, just so your son can keep his paycheck intact.”

Me: “That’s what paychecks are for, right? Paying someone for a well-deserved serviceand paying for necessities such as tires, right?”

(The guy turns beet red and leaves. My manager turns to me.)

Manager: “If he keeps squealing his tires like that, he’ll be back within the next month to get them replaced.”

Me: “Hi, welcome to [fast food place]! How can I help you?”

Elderly Customer: “Yes. I’ll have a small hamburger, a small fry, and a small coffee, for here, please.”

Me: “Certainly. Would you like cream and sugar with your coffee?”

Elderly Customer: “Of course. Two cream, and two sugar, please.”

Me: “Your total is $[total].”

(The Elderly Customer hands me more than enough to cover the meal.)

Elderly Customer: “Keep the change.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. We’re not allowed to take tips.”

Elderly Customer: “Really? What’s this world coming to! Customers should be allowed to tip for good service.”

Me: “I’m really sorry about that, sir. Here’s your food. Is there anything else that you would like?”

Elderly Customer: “No, thanks.”†

(He takes his food off to the lobby. A short while later, he’s back at my register.)

Me: “Did you need a refill on your coffee, sir?”

Elderly Customer: “Yes, please.”

(I refill his coffee. When I return with his cup, he takes it, smiles at me, and leaves the store. Sitting on the counter where he was standing, is a small balloon duck. The duck has a note.)

Note: “This isn’t a tip; he’s a gift. I hope that he brings a smile to your face.”

(A well-dressed, middle-aged man comes up to me with a friendly smile.)

Customer: “Excuse me, I’m sorry to be a bother. Could I possibly get change from you?”

Me: “Okay, come up to the till. I’ll help you out.”

Customer: “Thank you so much.”

(He hands me three €20 note.)

Customer: “If I could get a €50 note and a €10 note out of this, it’d be really helpful.”

(I take the three €20 notes, and hand him back the change.)

Customer: “Thanks. Sorry, but could I ask one more favor? Could I just get two €1 coins for this?”

(He hands me a €2 coin. I am feeling slightly suspicious now. I turn back to the till, take out the two one-euro coins, and hand them to the man. He doesn’t move.)

Me: “Is there something else?”

Customer: “You never gave me the €50 note.”

Me: “I’m pretty sure I did.”

Customer: “No, you definitely didn’t.”

Me: “Sir, I’m not giving you any more money. If you would like, you can come back during closing. If we’re €50 over the end of day report, I will be happy to rectify my mistake. However, I’m absolutely positive I did not make one.”

Customer: “Are you, really? This is ridiculous. You did not give me the money!”

Me: “I think I did.”

Customer: “You couldn’t have made a mistake? How are you so sure?”

Me: “Because the corner of the €50 note I gave you is sticking out of your sleeve.”

(Turns out he had done it to all the other shops on the street, and successfully conned two.)

(A young girl that is about 14 years old walks in. She gets some looks from our other patrons, as she has bright purple hair, multiple piercings, a leather jacket, and ripped jeans. It is freezing outside and she has a scowl on her face that makes me nervous.)

Me: “Hello, welcome to [coffee shop]. How may I help you?”

Young Girl: “I’ll take five of the largest black coffees you have, and ten of your ham and cheese sandwiches.”

Me: “Okay, will that be all?”

Young Girl: “Yeah.”

Me: “Your total is [price].”

(To my surprise, she pulls out a $100 bill. I am suspicious, and I check to make sure it’s real. It checks out, and I give her a bag with her sandwiches.)

Me: “Here is your change. Your coffee will be ready in a moment.”

(I keep an eye on her as she stands around glaring at anyone who looks at her. I see her looking at the tip jar. When I hand her the coffees, she asks me about it.)

Young Girl: “Your tip jar says that the money goes to you guys. Are any of you in college?”

Me: “Yes, I’m going to Rochester Institute of Technology. A few others are in college as well.”

Young Girl: “Good for you.”

(She pulls out the change I gave her and a few more $20 dollar bills. She crams then in the jar and salutes me jokingly before walking out. I am stunned, and chase after her. I find her on the street corner talking to some homeless people and handing out the sandwiches and coffee.)

Me: “Excuse me!”

Young Girl: “I’m sorry, did I forget something?”

Me: “No, but you just tipped us over $100 dollars. You’re also giving away a lot of food.”

Young Girl: “Yeah, my dad is crazy rich. I feel like I can do more if I actually interact with people instead of signing a check to a charity. Every Friday I gather anyone I see who needs a good meal, and buy it for them.” *she smiles brightly* “I may be young, but I can make a difference. I usually hand out flyers for homeless shelters or soup kitchens, too.”

(Without another word, she walks off silently. I didn’t stop smiling for the rest of the week. It goes to show you that appearances aren’t everything!)

Customer: “Can you help me put packing tape on this box so I can ship it?”

Me: “Of course.”

(I help her seal the box, which is full of nice clothes. Then I put the box’s measurements in and show her the prices.)

Me: “Looks like your cheapest bet will be through USPS at [price].”

Customer: “What about this option?”

(She points at a USPS option that is about 25 cents cheaper than what I offered.)

Me: “That’s the Media Mail rate. It only applies if you’re shipping books or CDs.”

Customer: “Well, I’m shipping books.”

Me: “No, I saw the contents of your package when I sealed it. You’re not shipping books or CDs, so I can’t give you the media rate.”

Customer: “But I want the cheaper price.”

Me: “It’s only a difference of 25 cents. It isn’t that big a difference, is it?”

Customer: “Can’t you, like, just say that I’m shipping books?”

Me: “You’re asking me to lie and put my job at risk just to save you a quarter?”

Customer: “Yes! God! Is that too much to ask to save me some money?”