Via.

(I greet a customer cheerfully as she enters the shop. After browsing briefly, she gives me a suspicious look and then leaves the store. A few moments later, she returns with my boss.)

Customer: “HER! That is the WORST example of customer service I have ever experienced in this town!”

Boss: *to me* “Could you explain what happened a minute ago?”

Me: “I…I don’t understand. I said, ‘Hi, how are you today?’ and she left pretty much after that.”

Customer: “Look at you now, tearing up in front of the boss! Well, missy, let me tell you…” *to my boss* “LOOK! She’s scowling again, behind your back! That is EXACTLY what I’m talking about!”

(I’m not sure what she’s referring to, but I have naturally fair blonde hair which is dyed a darker shade. I line my brows a shade to match, and they have a dramatic natural arch.)

Boss: “Ma’am? I think that’s just her face. She isn’t trying to offend.”

Customer: “You think you’re so smart, missy? Well, one day, someone is going to call you out on your games! THEY’LL WIPE THAT SMUG LOOK RIGHT OFF YOUR FACE!”

Me: *I wipe my brow liner off and give her a blank look*

Customer: *makes a choked noise, then quickly exits*

(I am delivering pizzas to a hotel room in the early evening. I am a guy in my mid-20s with exceptionally long hair. The customer’s name on the bill is “Katie”. After knocking on the door, I hear someone approach it, but they don’t open the door. Instead, I sense them looking through the peephole, which is followed by some loud whispering.)

Voice #1: “Guys, it’s a chick!”

Voice #2: “Are you sure?”

Voice #1: “Yes!”

Voice #3: “Dude! Is she hot?”

Voice #1: “I can’t tell. What do I do?”

Voice #3: “Dude, take off your shirt!”

(For the next few moments I hear a lot of shuffling noises. Finally, the door opens, and what do I see? Three scrawny, dorky-looking, and shirtless teenage boys, completely bewildered to see that I am not, in fact, a girl.)

Me: “Sorry to disappoint you. Now, which one of you is Katie?”

Related:
Hair Apparent

(I work as a drug tester for state agencies. Most people come in for breathalyzers. Our machine though does not stop on its own and I have to tell people when to stop blowing. A new client has just come in and is doing his blood alcohol.)

Me: “…and stop blowing.”

(The client doesn’t stop, but keeps blowing until the machine gives a system error.)

Me: “Okay, let’s try one more time…” *client blows* “…and stop.”

(Again, the client doesn’t stop, which causes a system error again. This goes on ELEVEN more times, with me explaining repeatedly that he needs to stop when I tell him to.)

Client: “What the F***! Why won’t this f***ing thing work?!”

Me: “As I’ve explained multiple times, you have to stop when I say or it won’t work.”

Client: “I don’t like people telling me what to do!”

(I am a customer in line behind a middle-aged woman who is buying a DVD. She’s been very nervous throughout the whole transaction.)

Customer: “Oh, dear…I will have to hide this DVD when I get home!”

Cashier: “Oh really? Why?”

Customer: “My children don’t like this movie. I will have to watch it when they’re not home. I’m gonna have to hide it somewhere!” *leaves*

Coworker: “What was she buying?”

Cashier: “Twilight.”