Customer: “Two white wines, please.”

Me: “Sure thing. Your total will be $****.”

Customer: “$****?! That’s a little steep. I bet you’re lining your pockets.”

(I look down at my uniform, which is a black cocktail dress.)

Me: “Sir, I don’t have pockets.”

Customer: “Touché.”

(I find a wallet with the owner’s ID from middle school.)

Me: *over the all-call speakers* “[Name], please come up to the front desk for your missing wallet. [Name], please come up to the front desk.”

(An adult comes up to the front desk.)

Adult: “Hi, I’m [name].”

Me: “I’m sorry, but according to this ID, she’s still in middle school.”

Adult: “Oh, I’m, um, her sister.”

Me: “With the same name?”

Adult: “Yeah, my mom was a little weird. Can I have her wallet now?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I’d like to see your sister and put this is in her possession.”

Adult:”What!? What do you think I’m going to do, steal my sister’s money or something? Just give me the d*** wallet!”

(A girl comes over.)

Girl: “Hi, I’m [Name].”

Adult: “Sis! Where were you? It’s been 10 minutes. I tried to give the wallet to you to save time, but this stupid woman thinks I’m not your sister!”

Girl: “Who are you?”

(The night previous we had a customer shoplift about $300 worth of merchandise while I was on shift. Thankfully, while she did get away with quite a bit, she escaped with only one boot of a pair as I had removed the second boot, with ink tag intact, pending acceptance of her check.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [store name] what can we help you find today?”

Caller: “Hi! I was at your store last night and the lady that helped me shorted us a shoe!”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. What style was it?”

Caller: “A [brand]. It was the right shoe. She was going to take the tag off and never did! I live far away so do you think you could transfer it to the [different location] store?”

Me: “I don’t believe that would be feasible as we don’t have a way to get it to that store, but we might be able to mail it to you! Can I get your name, phone number, and address?”

Caller: “Sure. It is [name, number & address].”

(I get off the phone looking like the Cheshire cat. The thief had just given her full name, phone number, and address.)

(I overhear a tourist couple at breakfast one table over.)

Customer: “Every day! This coffee is never hot enough.”

Customer’s husband: “You’re just gonna have to get used to that. In these countries that use the Celsius scale, they boil their water at only 100 degrees.”

(I am working as a bartender at a restaurant. The waitress has added a 15% gratuity because the party has been large and difficult to deal with.)

Customer: “Miss? What’s this ‘gravity’ crap?! I ain’t paying for no ‘gravity!’”

Waitress: *without missing a beat* “Ma’am, that’s what holds the food to your plate.”

Customer: “Oh, alright then.” *pays the check*

(I am working the tills at a supermarket. I am of Vietnamese descent but was born in London. An older gentleman comes through my till.)

Customer: *practically shouting* “Ni-Hao!”

Me: “Hello to you to sir, but that’s Chinese. I am actually Vietnamese.”

(I point to my name tag which in our shop goes by family name instead of first name. Mine is the very common ‘Nguyen’.)

Customer: “Don’t lie!”

Me: “I assure you sure I am Vietnamese.”

Customer: “There aren’t any Vietnamese people left!”

Me: “Pardon?”

Customer: “Yeah, the Americans killed them all back in the seventies or something.”

Me: “I think you may have your history confused. I assure you there is still a Vietnam and it is full of Vietnamese people.”

Customer: “Well I don’t know how you managed to escape but I wouldn’t say it so loudly. There might be Americans around looking for survivors.”

Me: *as I ring up his last item* “Probably a good idea. That will be £10.34 please.”

Customer: *as he pays* “Wouldn’t want a young lad like you getting caught!”

(The customer heads towards the exit, but unfortunately notices the security guard who also happens to be my brother. He is 6ft tall and a body-builder and I dread what might happen.)

Customer: “Ni-Hao!”

Brother: “Actually I’m Vietnamese.”

Customer: “Another one?! But the Americans wiped you all out!”

Brother: *standing to full height* “I think you might want to just keep on walking.”

Customer: “How dare you talk to me like that?! I’m going to call the Americans, and then they’ll come down here and shoot you!”

(I work in tech support for a major US cable company, and sometimes we have to deal with people who just don’t want to talk to you because you’re foreign.)

Customer: “You know what? I can’t understand a word you’re saying. You have an accent. Can I be transferred to someone who speaks English?”

Me: “I’m pretty sure I’m speaking English right now, sir.”

Customer: “Yeah, but I can’t understand you because of your accent.”

Me: “So, basically you’re saying you want me to transfer you to someone else.”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “Because I have an accent.”

Customer: “That’s right.”

Me: “And you can’t understand what I’m saying.”

Customer: “Exactly.”

Me: “So how come you were able to understand what I just said?”

*a few seconds of silence*

Customer: “Don’t be an a**-hole and just transfer me!”

(We’re closed for maintenance, and have shut off all the exterior lights, including those in drive-thru. We also put a sign on the drive-thru menu stating we’re closed. A car pulls into drive-thru, and I put on a headset. All of this takes places via drive-thru speaker.)

Me: “Hi, I’m sorry, but we’re currently closed for maintenance. Our other location down the street will be happy to serve you.”

Customer: “Hey, we just need a minute. Your lights are off, and it’s hard to see the menu.”

Me: “Sorry, I said we’re closed for maintenance. That’s why the lights are off.”

Customer: “Okay, we’re ready.”

Me: “Sorry, I said we’re closed. Our other store just a few blocks down the street will be happy to help.”

(The customer says their order.)

Customer: “Hello? Did you get that?”

Me: *gives up* “Welcome to [restaurant]. Please listen carefully as our menu options have changed due to the store being closed for maintenance. For service in English, please press one.” *switches to French* “Pour service en Francais, poussez le deux.” *switches to Spanish* “Para el servicio en Español, presione por favor el numero tres.”

(Faint laughter as the rest of the car’s passengers start laughing.)

Customer: “Uh…” *whispers* “What do I do?” *laughter from other passengers* “Uh… one?”

Me: “Thank you for calling [restaurant]. Our hours of operation are 7 am to 3 am, except today, because we are closed… due… to… maintenance. Please leave a message after the beep. BEEP!”

(Squeal of tires as the car peels away, the rest of the passengers killing themselves laughing.)