(I am working as a cashier and two customers come in talking loudly about how dumb minimum wage fast-food workers are. One of them decides to prove it…)

Customer: “Let me ask you a question. What’s 7 times 7?”

Me: “49.”

Customer: “What’s 8 times 8?”

Me: “64.”

Customer: “E equals MC squared?”

Me: “What about it?”

Customer: “What does it mean?”

Me: “Energy equals mass times the speed of light squared.”

Customer: “Uhm…”

Me: “Would you like fries with that?”

(Note: I am a self-checkout attendant.)

Customer: “Miss, my debit card doesn’t seem to be working.”

Me: “Are you sure you’re swiping it the right way?”

Customer: “Which way is the right way?”

Me: “Stripe facing outward.”

Customer: “Miss, it’s still not working!”

Me: “I’m sorry sir, but that debit machine is currently out of order.”

Customer: “I want to use this one. Why isn’t this one working?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we called tech support. If you’d like, I’d be more than happy to suspend your order and–”

Customer: “It’s your responsibility to put up signs if something isn’t working! I want to speak to your store manager.”

Me: “There’s no sign on that machine? I’m sure I put them up just a couple of minutes ago.”

Customer: “Do you SEE a sign?”

(I walk over to the machine, and see the sign laying by the customers feet on the floor. It was clearly ripped off of the machine, as it’s half torn.)

Me: “Hmm, I’m terribly sorry sir. It seems someone ripped the sign off.”

Customer: “Yeah, that was me.”

Me: “Can I ask why?”

Customer: “No, you can’t.”

Me: “Why would you use this machine is you had seen and read the sign, stating that the debit machine wasn’t working?”

Customer: “Because there was no sign!”

Me: “But you ripped the sign off.”

Customer: “Yeah, so now that it’s not there anymore the debit machine should be working! Forget this! I’m going to another store!”

(I am cleaning up at an office supplies store when a customer walks to the automatic door, about to leave the store.)

Customer: *thrusts hand at door, palm out, as if he’s using
‘the Force’* “Whoosh!”

(The door opens, and he looks back as he exits and sees me looking at him.)

Customer: “Uh, I was just joking…”

Me: “But that door wasn’t even on, sir!”

Customer: *astonished* “Are you serious?”

Me: “Nah, just kidding. Have a nice day, sir!”

Customer: “Hi, I need to schedule an appointment to test my car. I need it as soon as possible!”

Me: “Okay, let’s see. First available appointment is actually today. Would you like me to put you up for that?”

Customer: “Hmm…I don’t know. I really do need it as soon as possible. Can you check to see if you have anything earlier?”

Me: “Well, first available is today.”

Customer: “I really need it before that.”

Me: “Earlier than today?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “Yeah, I don’t see how I could make that happen. Can you maybe tell me which day you would like?”

Customer: “Yesterday?”

Me: “Yesterday?”

Customer: “Yes, that would be great!”

Me: “Sorry, nothing available yesterday. How about tomorrow?”

Customer: “Okay, I guess that’ll do…”

(The junior college near my grocery store has some guy who makes very good fake IDs. After a couple of months, we’ve become adept at spotting them. One night, a young customer tries to pass one on me.)

Me: “Wow, this is a really good fake.”

(The customer’s eyes go wide and she squeaks in terror.)

Me: “How old are you, really?”

Customer: *squeaks again*

Me: “Sorry, say again?”

Customer: “Seventeen?”

Me: “Wow, that’s crazy. But this is a really good fake. How much did you pay for this?”

Customer: *squeaks*

Me: “Sorry, what?”

Customer: “Two fifty?”

Me: “You paid two hundred and fifty dollars for this?”

Customer: *squeaks*

Me: “Well, I feel kinda bad that you’re losing all that money, so I’m not gonna call the police. However, I have to confiscate your ID, okay?”

Customer: *squeaks*

Me: “You have a nice night now.”

Customer: *squeaks one last time and runs from the store*

(Most corn that is grown in Iowa is for livestock. We sell sweet corn at our stand that sits in front of our feed corn field by the road.)

Customer: “I want some of that corn.” *gestures toward feed corn field*

Me: “Oh, that’s not sweet corn. That’s feed corn.”

Customer: “What?! All corn is sweet corn.”

Me: “No, there is sweet corn grown especially for humans and feed corn grown for cattle.”

Customer: “Bulls***! I know you stupid hicks are trying to cheat me! Cows are meat-eaters!”

(I’m assisting a customer in the parking lot with her groceries. She presses the lock button on the driver’s side door and closes it.)

Customer: “Oh no! I locked my keys in the ignition!”

Me: “Well, your back door is still open.”

Customer: “I know, I know, but my door is locked! D***!”

Me: “But the back door is still open. You could pass through it to–”

Customer: *slams the back door shut* “Fine, there! Now it’s closed! Can we get back to my problem now?”

Coworker: “Whoops, looks like there’s a 30 cent late fee on here for [movie]. It was returned a day late, so your total will be $6.25.”

Customer: “What?! That’s impossible! I returned it the day after I rented it!”

Coworker: “Well, it was a seven day rental, and it shows here that you returned it a day late at 6:13 pm.”

(The customer continues to argue very loudly with my coworker, yelling out things like, “Do you know who I am?!” However, I tune it out because a regular customer comes up to my register.)

Me: “Hi, Mr ***!”

Regular: “Hey ***, love the hair. What’s the damage?”

Me: “Oh boy, $43.76 in late fees? Where did you go this time?”

(The regular leans way over into the other customer’s face and speaks loudly.)

Regular: “$43.76 in late fees, you say? Here is my debit card, miss!”

(He pulls his debit card out of his wallet with a big flourish.)

Regular: “Boy, I should learn to return my movies on time, which is clearly not the fault of this establishment!”

(The other customer shuts up, quickly pays, and leaves.)

Me: “You’re my favorite.”

Regular: “I know.”

(We waived half his fees and gave him a free rental.)

(The cafe owners often bring their little one-year old girl with them, who sometimes plays with the register while standing on a crate. One day while I’m working on something else a few feet away, she’s doing this as a customer approaches.)

Customer: “I’d like to order a sandwich to go.”

Me: “Sure, I’ll be there in one minute. Let me just wash my hands.”

Customer: “Yeah, but she can take my order now!” *points to the little girl*

Me: “She’s just playing. She can’t actually ring you up.”

Customer: *blank stare*

Me: “She’s one.”

Customer: *heavy sigh*

Toddler: “Cheese?”

Related:
Now Accepting Cash, Checks, And Fingerpaint

(I have a tattoo on my foot of a vine of ivy. Usually, I hide it with my socks and shoes while working, but one day they get wet on the playground so I take them off to keep from getting blisters. While I’m changing shoes, a child notices the tattoo.)

Child: “Oh! What’s that?”

Me: “It’s a tattoo, it’s like a permanent drawing on your skin you can get when your 18.”

Child: “Can I touch it?”

Me: “Sure, it just feels like skin.”

(Several kids come over to touch my tattoo. A mother walks in.)

Mother: “Is that a tattoo?”

Me: “Yes.”

Mother: “You should be ashamed! You are setting a bad example for these children! That could be a gang symbol or related to drugs like marijuana!”

Me: “Ma’am, it’s just ivy.”

Mother: “What?! I don’t know anything about your drug symbols. This is highly unprofessional and I will be speaking to your boss! Advocating drugs like this!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. Next time I’ll be sure to hide my tattoo, but I assure you it has nothing to do with drugs or any illegal behavior.”

Mother: “You’d better! I can’t believe you would be allowed to work with kids!”

(The mother bends over to pick up daughter, and I see a pair of dolphins tattooed very low on her back–AKA a “tramp stamp”. It’s visible just above her thong and low rise jeans. Rightly or wrongly, these tattoos often have a negative connotation.)

Me: “Nice dolphins.”

Mother: “I’m an adult! Don’t you judge me!”