(I was working checkout, in the express lane (15 items or less). A lady with a very full trolley comes up.)

Lady: “Hi! Is this an express lane?”

Me: “Yep. You might want to go through another–”

Lady: *starts unloading stuff* “Good. I’m in a hurry.”

Me: “?!”

Old Woman: “Excuse me sir…I need some batteries.”

Me: “Of course. What kind do you need?”

Old Woman: “I…I’m not sure.”

Me: “Not a problem. What do you need the batteries for? I might be able to match them up to the product.”

Old Woman: “…I need them for my ghetto blaster.”

(I’m a flight attendant, and was doing my pre-takeoff check in the cabin. A man stops me and gestures to the small digital camera sitting in the seat next to him.)

Passenger: “Is it ok if my camera is here for the flight?”

Me: “Sure, sir. That will be fine.”

Passenger: “But shouldn’t I put it in the overhead bin?”

Me: “It should be fine there, but if you’re worried about it falling on the floor during landing you could put it in the overhead bin.”

Passenger: “But after takeoff, won’t it start floating around the cabin?”

Me: “Well, sir, just hold on to it. Once we slingshot around the moon, it will be fine.”

(So I had 3 tables of teenagers. Everyone seemed to understand that this restaurant was themed. We don’t let people use forks or knives, or spoons. You use your hands, end of story.)

Male Customer: “My friend here wants to know how she eats the soup.”

(I look to his friend, a tall dirty blonde, and sigh to myself.)

Me: “You grab the handle of the bowl, bring it to your mouth, and then sip. Use two hands if it’s too heavy.”

Female Customer: “Ok.”

(She lifts bowl to her face, but instead of just going for a sip, she turns her head in on it so her nose ends up going in the soup. She flips.)

Female Customer: “Are you sh*tting me! This is bullsh*t! I shouldn’t have to eat like this! It’s so…so–”

Me: “Medieval.”

(Her friends snicker.)

Female Customer: “Yeah it is! And I think it’s unfair that I don’t get any utensils! Are you sure I can’t get a fork for my soup?”

Me: “Wait a second, did you just say fork? I’m not sure about you but usually a spoon works better for me. Also, they don’t exist here.”

(Everyone laughs at her.)

Female Customer: “Fine fine, I’ll eat with my hands I guess. If you ask me it’s just stupid.”

Me: “It’s a part of the experience.”

Female Customer: “But maybe I don’t want the experience!”

(And it’s moments like that, and many others, that make me wonder why anyone would waste 80 bucks for a themed restaurant, and not want the experience.)

(It was literally 3 minutes before closing time, and someone called us.)

Drunk Customer: “Ehhhhhh hello?”

Me: “Sir, we are at closing time.”

Drunk Customer: “Oh… well, can I have a large cheese pizza and a cheeseburger?”

Me: “Sir, it is closing time. We’re done for the day. And we don’t serve burgers.”

Drunk Customer: “Okay, can you just…uuuhhhhh…make me a pizza really fast then?”

Me: “Sir, I’m sorry, but we’re closing.”

Drunk Customer: “COME ON! IT’S 10 PM, I’M HUNGRY, AND ALL I WANT IS A PIZZA!”

Me: “Sir, it’s 10:01. We are closed.”

Drunk Customer: *unusually calm* “Okay…I’ll go to McDonald’s.”

Me: “Good night, sir.”

Drunk Customer: “Good night…I love you…” *hangs up*

(Quite frankly, it made my day.)

Me: “*** Plumbing, how can I help you?”

Customer: Yeah, do you guys clean ducts?”

Me: “No, I’m sorry, we don’t do that.”

Customer: “Then who does do it?”

Me: “I’m not sure but you could probably find a duct cleaning company in the phonebook.”

Customer: “Ok, how do I do that?”

Me: “Open the phonebook…and look for duct cleaning.”

Customer: “Ok, what do I look under?”

Me: *bangs head on desk* “I’m guessing the letter D might be a start…”

(A woman approaches me at the cash desk and pulls out a pair of underwear to return.)

Woman: “I’d like to return this.”

Me: “I’m very sorry, but we cannot accept returns on intimate apparel.”

Woman: “Why not? I haven’t worn it.”

Me: “It’s against our company policy for health reasons.”

Woman: “Well this is ridiculous! I bought these to wear on my honeymoon and I didn’t end up wearing them, so now they’re useless!”

(The woman storms out of store, leaving the underwear on the counter.)

Me: *wonders just what happened on the honeymoon*

(The bakery had just closed. I had clocked out, and was on my way out of the store.)

Lady: “Excuse me, could you decorate this cake for me?”

Me: “I’m sorry ma’am. My shift is over, and the bakery is closed.”

Lady: “But I need it done for tomorrow! If you don’t do it, I’ll call your manager!”

Me: “Ma’am, what do you do for a living?”

Lady: “I’m a dentist…”

Me: “Would you like to look at my teeth after your shift ends, for free?”

Lady: “That’s different. My job is hard. Anyone could do your job.”

Me: “Then you won’t mind taking that cake home and decorating it yourself.”

(I was called back by the pharmacist to assist with a verbally abusive customer. The more the lady yelled, the louder her kid cried. None of the other customers in line behind her could get to the register. )

Me: “How may I help you?”

Lady: “It’s about time you got back here to straighten this out! This s**thead won’t give me a medicine spoon!”

Pharmacist: “I’m sorry, I’ve tried to explain that we are all out of the complimentary spoons.”

Lady: “If my daughter ends up getting an overdose of her medicine, I’m going to sue you!”

(I rolled my eyes and walked over to a display of dosing spoons, selecting one we sell for 99 cents.)

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry we don’t have any of the free ones. Let me buy this one for you.”

Lady: “What? Do I look like a welfare mother to you? I don’t need your f**king charity!”

Pharmacist: “You don’t need the spoon either. Those are chewable tablets…”

(A customer walks up to the movie theater concession stand.)

Me: “Hello, how can I help you?”

Customer: “Yes, I’d like a cinnamon pretzel, please.”

Me: “We don’t have any of those prepared right now, so it will be about five minutes. Is that ok?”

Customer, pointing to the display case of pretzels: “Why can’t I have one of those?”

Me: “Oh, those are just for display. They’re covered in chemicals and have been there for ages.”

Customer: “So they’re not real pretzels?”

Me: “No, they’re real pretzels, just not really edible.”

Customer: “Well, you shouldn’t have them out if people can’t get them.”

Me: “We put the display case out so people can see what they’re like.”

Customer: “I still don’t understand why you have fake pretzels out instead of real ones.”

Me: “Look, even if you could eat those pretzels, look at the case; there’s no way to open it!”

Customer: “Fine. It still seems stupid to have fake pretzels.”