I’m working at a liquor store a few years back on a busy Thursday. The boss says that a couple of new guys are starting today. I figure whatever. I head to the stock room to start filling holes in the shelves. There’s a young man back there.

Me: “Hi, I’m [My Name].”

Guy: “I’m [Guy]. Can you tell me where the seven-ounce [Beer #1] bottles are?”

Me: “They’re in the back of the walk-in. If you’re headed that way, grab a case of [Beer #2] tallboys and drop them by the cooler. I’ll stock them shortly.”

He grabs the case, I thank him, and he leaves. I put my stuff away, grab a few items, hit the shelves, and start stocking the cans he dropped off in the cooler. The guy exits the walk-in with a case of [Beer #1] on his shoulder like a boss. He nods and I finish knocking out the cooler and head to the front counter.

The guy is in line with a couple of bottles. Wild — we typically purchase cigarettes or soda or [Energy Drinks] on the clock. This legend is picking up Jack Daniels and Bacardi. He hits the counter.

Me: “Are you on the clock?”

Guy: “No.”

Then, it clicks, this guy isn’t a coworker.

Me: “Why did you grab the [Beer #1], then?”

Guy: “Some old lady asked me, and you were all busy.”

Me: “Thank you!”

I hooked him up with some beer nuts and didn’t charge him for the soda he was also buying.

[Guy], I hope you’re doing all right.

Customer: “I’m looking for a white wine I had years ago. It’s popular and I think it’s French.”

My store has a limited selection of French wine and none of it is terribly popular. On a hunch, I skip the French section altogether and show him our second-most-popular Italian wine.

Customer: “Yes! That one! I thought I’d be searching for ages. Thank you.”

I’m still proud of myself for that one.

You know that stereotype that Asians look younger? Well, that’s true, at least for my family.

One Halloween, Mom and I decided to dress up together. We wear matching Lolita dresses. On the way home, Dad calls Mom to tell her we ran out of alcohol, so Mom and I stop by my favourite liquor shop to buy some.

We walk out holding the bottles of wine, and we walk right into a pair of beat cops.

Cop #1: *Sighs* “Girls, I’m sorry, but you’re gonna have to surrender the wine.”

Me: “I beg your pardon?”

Cop #2: “It’s called underage drinking. It’s against the law.”

Me: “Hey! I’m twenty-two!”

Cop #2: “Twenty-two? You look closer to twelve than twenty-two. I ain’t buying it.”

Mom: “We have ID.”

Cop #1: “All right then, let’s see it.”

I produce mine.

Cop #1: “Huh, so you really are twenty-two. Wait, you’re a guy?” *Looks me up and down* “Dang, you look pretty.”

Cop #2: “No s***?” *Sees my ID* “Holy moly! You’re prettier than my girlfriend!”

Cop #1: “All right, you’re clear. Can we see your sister’s ID, as well?”

Mom: “Sure thing.”

Cop #2: “Wait, you’re fifty-eight?! You’re his mother?!”

Mom: “Nonsense. I’m twenty-eight. I’ve been twenty-eight for years now.”

Me: “Some of the other parents in our neighbourhood actually believe that.”

Cop #1: “I can see why.”

Cop #2: *Awestruck* “Hashtag ‘Asians don’t raisin’.”

They let us go, and as we walk away, I hear [Cop #2] murmur to [Cop #1].

Cop #2: “You know, I always thought it was baloney, but maybe there’s some truth to those immortality potions them Chinese emperors were crazy for.”

I was second in line at a liquor store recently. The customer in front of me had his back to me and the clerk was bagging his booze.

Customer: *Mumbles something indistinct*

Clerk: “Do you want this in a bag or against the side of your head?”

This was not an idle threat, as the sales counter was elevated, the clerk was tall, and the jerky customer was a bit on the short side. His head was definitely a tempting target. The customer lowered his head, grabbed the bag, and left. The clerk’s smile returned to her face.

Me: “Here’s my credit card… with no crude comment attached.”

Clerk: *Laughing* “You’re fine, hun. It’s just him that does that.”

I work at a liquor store. The other day, a lady came in wearing a baggy dress. She didn’t buy anything, but as she was walking out, a half-gallon of vodka fell out from between her legs and smashed.

Lady: “How did that get there?”