(I’m a customer at a supermarket, but I’m still wearing my work uniform since I’m buying things for my job. My clothing doesn’t look anything like the uniform that the supermarket employees wear. Another customer approaches me.)

Customer: “Love, can you show me where the ice is?”

Me: “Sorry, ma’am. I’m not sure where the ice is. It’s probably down at the freezer section.”

Customer: “Can you take me down there?”

Me: “Sorry, I have to buy this and get back to work. The freezer section is just over there. ”

Customer: “Well, you’re not being very helpful. I’m going to tell your boss about this.”

(She runs off to find a manager. It takes me awhile to realise that she thinks I work here.)

Customer: “There she is! The rude one!”

(The manager looks at me and immediately realizes what has happened.)

Customer: “You should fire her for being so rude to me!”

(The manager shakes his head and beckons me over.)

Manager, to me: *whispers* “Just go with it.”

(I nod and he begins to ‘fire’ me in front of the customer, who looks satisfied. Eventually, someone who does work there gets her her ice and she leaves.)

Manager, to me: “Sorry about that. She does this every time she comes in.”

Me: “911, how can I help you?”

Caller: “Yes?! Hello! I live at [location]. My husband was stabbed by a madman! Oh, god! He’s outside my bedroom door! He’s knocking on it!”

Me: “Alright, ma’am, a police–”

Caller: “What?!”

(Suddenly, there is a lot of talking and a bit of laughing.)

Caller, to someone else: “You ****! You scared the **** out of me! A prank?! I called the **** police! I could have gone to jail!”

Caller, to me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. It’s a false alarm.”

Me: “Um, alright.”

Caller: “Actually, send over a cop car. I’m about to murder two men.”

(I am on a school trip to a mall to help with pet adoption forms. A customer comes up.)

Customer: “Gimme a f***ing dog!”

Me: “Would you like an adoption form?”

Customer: “I don’t care. I just want a dog! There’s one over there! Gimme it!”

(I look to where he is pointing. A lady is walking a dog.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but that dog doesn’t belong to us.”

Customer: “It’s because I’m [ethnicity that he clearly is not], isn’t it? ”

(At this point, I realize that he is high.)

Me: “Oh, that one is ours. Unfortunately, it is an evil space cow.”

Customer: “Holy s***!” *runs off*

(I work at the main train station information desk. An angry customer storms up to me after trying to get a ticket out of the automatic machines.)

Customer: “Your g**d*** machines are broken, as usual!

Me: “What seems to be the problem, sir?”

Customer: “I wanted a ticket for the 9:15 train to [city] and your stupid machine won’t sell it to me! It’s broken, as usual!”

Me: “Uh, sir–”

Customer: “You guys are so useless! This is hopeless! Every time I come here, there’s a problem! You’re all a bunch of stupid f****!”

Me: “Well, sir–”

Customer: “All I want is a ticket for the 9:15 train! I get it every f***ing day, and there is always a problem!”

Me: “What I’m trying to say it that–”

Customer: “Oh, don’t you even try! Don’t you even try giving me that s***! Now, you’re going to tell me you don’t sell tickets. You don’t have control over the machines and everything, huh? You’re just a stupid information desk! Well, you know what? I’m not queuing up to the f***ing ticket office because you’re a g**d*** idiot!”

Me: “If you just–”

Customer: “You’re going to say you’re right, aren’t you?”

(This goes ahead for a good five minutes. In the end, I just stare at him while he rants about how terribly stupid I am and how horrible the service is. I just keep silent and stare at him until he’s finished.)

Customer: “So, are you going to give me that ticket or not?”

Me: “Sir, it’s five past ten.”

Customer: “What?”

Me: “It’s five past ten. That’s why the machine won’t sell you a ticket for the 9:15 train–that train is gone almost an hour ago.”

Customer: “What the h*** are you talking about?”

Me: “Sir, last night we switched back from daylight savings time. It means the clock went one hour ahead. It is not five past nine right now, but five past ten. That’s why you can’t buy a ticket for the 9:15 train to [city]. However, if you hurry up, you’ll manage the 10:15 one.”

(The customer looks at me in disbelief, then looks at the time on the main train timetable, then at his own watch, and eventually back at me.)

Customer: “Yeah…uh…I think I’ll try and catch that 10:15 one, then. Thanks…uh…and sorry.”

(The restaurant I work in offers discount vouchers when customers subscribe in the website. In this case, the voucher was 2 courses for 10. After receiving her bill, a lady comes to me and starts arguing.)

Customer: “Why is my discount £3 when the voucher is for £10?”

Me: “Ma’am, the voucher does not give you £10 off your bill. It gives you the two courses for £10.”

Customer: “No, no! The voucher says £10!”

(After explaining the promotion for nearly 10 minutes, the manager joins in to help. Finally, the customer’s friend realizes the point of the promo and explains it.)

Customer: “Oh! I see now.”

Customer’s 8 year-old son: “Mooooom, it’s time for someone to apologiiiize!”