(Rent is due on the 1st of each month, and late after the 5th. After the 5th, a late fee applies. Today is the 6th.)

Tenant: “Here’s my rent. I was going to drop my money order in the drop slot last night but I got tied up late at work and was too tired to drive over. I’m sorry. Can you waive the late fee?”

Me: “Well, let me see. Hmm, the date the money order was printed on was today, the 6th. So you just lied to my face.”

Tenant: *completely unashamed* “Ha ha. Well… yeah. You know.”

Me: “No, I don’t know.” *hands back rent* “Please come back when you have the additional late fee.”

Tenant: “That’s just wrong! It’s only a day!”

Me: “No, ma’am. It’s the lying that’s wrong here.”

Tenant: *slams door and leaves in indignant huff* “I’m going to call your boss and have you fired. Oooh, and you’re racist!”

(I work in the back of the thrift store, where everything is sorted and tested. A Hispanic family comes in the front of the store, carrying three very old laptops.)

Customer: “We bought these laptops from here, and would like to exchange them from something else.”

Manager #1: “I’ll take these back to the electronics guys, and make sure they work.”

(He takes them back to the guys, and relays the story. While I don’t work at the electronics testing station, my area is right next to it, so I can see clearly what they are testing. They sometimes call me over because I have a strong technical background.)

Tester: “I don’t ever remember seeing these laptops.”

Me: “Neither do I!”

Manager #1: “Hey, wait a minute. There is no sticker residue! Nor is there rubbing of where they should have been! Also, they didn’t come in with a receipt. Something’s fishy here.”

(While they have me quickly test the laptops, Manager #1 gets Manager #2, who is fluent in Spanish, but Caucasian.)

Manager #1: *in Spanish* “Hello! So, were you trying to exchange the laptops?”

Customer: *flustered* “Did I say ‘exchange?’ I meant ‘donate!'”

Manager #2: “Well, I’m glad we could sort out the miscommunication!”

(Two of the laptops don’t boot up because they don’t even have a hard drive. The one that does boot has a very small amount of RAM. The kicker? Even if, by some fluke, we had sold those laptops, they would have been thoroughly tested, and all three would have been sold as ‘for parts,’ meaning that the customer wouldn’t have been able to afford even one working laptop!)

(My store sells desks and other office furniture. A customer who recently purchased a desk comes marching into the store, looking angry.)

Customer: “YOUR COMPANY IS SPYING ON ITS CUSTOMERS!”

Coworker: “What?”

Customer: “You’re spying on your customers!”

Coworker: “How do you figure?”

Customer: “I just bought a desk from you guys, and on the instructions it says there’s a ‘hidden cam’ I’m supposed to install!”

Coworker: “Sir, a cam-screw is just a type of screw. This one’s called a hidden cam because after you build everything, you won’t be able to see the screw any more.”

Customer: “No, it’s a camera! You’re trying to steal information about people, and sell it to the government!”

Coworker: “Sir, why would my company waste hundreds of thousands of dollars sneaking cameras into desks, cameras that are covered up by other pieces of the furniture and pointed at the floor?”

Customer: “Well they could be listening in on my conversations!”

Me: “Wouldn’t it be called a ‘hidden mic,’ then?”

Coworker: “And why would we go so far as to clearly label the hidden cam as a hidden cam?”

Customer: *leaves, defeated*

(I work for a small call center and my boss has been trying to get rid of me for months. She is trying everything in the book to fire me without having to pay severance. I have just come in after a smoke break and she orders me into her office.)

Boss: “Pack your bags; you are fired.”

Me: “What? Why?”

Boss: “You threatened my manager with your fist, and now she is afraid of you. She has asked me to fire you, so leave.”

Me: “When did I do these things you are accusing me of?”

Boss: “Five minutes ago!”

Me: “I was outside having a break!”

Boss: “No, I saw the whole thing. Now leave, or I will call the police!”

(I stand up and walk to the door and call the manager into the boss’ office.)

Me: *to the manager* “Did I threaten you just now?”

Manager: “Huh? Of course not!”

Me: “Did I wave my fist at you? Are you scared, and so you want me gone?”

Manager: “Uh no? That’s ridiculous!”

(I turn back to the boss who is red in the face.)

Me: “Do you know what wrongful dismissal means?”

Boss: “Get back to work.”

(I am still there. The boss has given up, and does not even talk to me anymore—which is fine by me!)

(I have recently been hired at a pharmacy a few towns over from mine. It’s my second day as cashier, when a teen girl comes to my register. I’m 22 and wearing a name tag.)

Customer: “Hi, I’d like a pack of [Brand] cigarettes, please.”

Me: “No problem. I just need to see your ID.”

Customer: “Oh, well it’s at my house and I don’t have time to run back and get it. Can’t you let me go this time?”

Me: “Sorry, it’s not worth my job.”

Customer: “But you know me!”

Me: “I can’t say that I do.”

Customer: “Dude, [My Name], we go to high school together.”

Me: “Oh, really? What high school do you go to?”

Customer: “[Local High School]. We totally have English together.”

Me: “Yeah, no. First of all I went to [Rival High School]. Second, I was in AP English, the scores of which I used to go to [University], which I just graduated from. So, no, I don’t know you. Show me ID or move along.”

Customer: “You suck.”

(She left and asked the next few visibly older customers to buy her cigarettes. No one bought them, and one even threatened to call the cops if she didn’t leave!)