(My husband told me this story from his time working at a video game store. He is working with a male customer to trade in their PS2. He plugs in the unit to make sure it powers on and ejects the disk drive to find an adult film DVD in it with an obvious title referring to busty women.)

Customer: *laughs nervously* “Well, at least I’m not gay, right?!”

Husband: *has seen it all and wordlessly hands the customer the DVD and finishes the trade-in as usual*

(It’s the release day of a new set of Pokémon games, and there is a line of people to pick up reserved copies. We had so many reservations we have to turn away people who just try to pick them up, but so far it hasn’t caused any problems. Currently in line is a boy in a Charmander costume, probably about ten years old but maybe younger. A couple of older customers have been playfully telling him to use Pokémon moves like scratch and flamethrower.)

Customer #1: “Charmander, use fire fang!”

(The kid begins making chewing sounds until he decides to actually use fire fang and bites the customer in front of him in the queue on his leg. The customer yells and grabs his leg, jumping around.)

Customer #1: “S***, dude, is everything all right?”

Customer #2: “No, it’s not all right! I’m a grass type.” *in the games, grass is weak to fire*

(I don’t think my boss ever truly recovered. To this day, every time we get Charmander merchandise in, he breaks down laughing. [Customer #2] was perfectly all right by the way; he had a small mark but nothing terrible. He had reserved four copies of the games: a set of limited editions, which he got, and a set of normal ones in case the limited editions couldn’t be delivered. We sold the normal set to the kid, who had no copies reserved.)

(The trading card shop closes at midnight almost every night. My boyfriend works there so I am frequently there hanging out till close. The other night I hear this exchange in the front of the store.)

Customer: “Could you please move your bags? I need this area to sort cards.”

(Several others are playing cards there and just stare at him.)

Manager: “It’s 11:30. It’s a little late to start sorting cards.”

Customer: *checks watch* “Actually it’s 11:20.”

Manager: *with a look of murder in his eyes, very sarcastically* “Oh, sure, then. That extra ten minutes will give you plenty of time to sort.”

Customer: “What?”

Manager: “Never mind. Come back tomorrow and you can sort; it’s a little too late.”

Customer: “Oh, I’m sorry. I have a split personality disorder and one of them doesn’t understand sarcasm.”

(Everyone waited for him to laugh… but he was serious.)

(Working in a video game store, we’re used to people lecturing us for selling games that are violent, inappropriate for children, etc. We’re not allowed to engage them, other than nodding and saying, “I’m sorry you feel that way.” In this story, a middle-aged woman has been ranting at my manager and me about how gaming is bringing about the downfall of society, rots children’s brains, etc., and then she says this:)

Woman: “Kids these days don’t go outside like they used to; they just sit inside all day staring at a screen. They’re all going to be losers, living with their parents, not being able to handle the real world!”

(Suddenly, a customer pokes his head around the corner with the most deadpanned expression and stares at the woman.)

Awesome Customer: “Lady, you’re taking time out of your day to lecture a video game store for selling video games. Who’s the loser here?”

(The woman stares at the guy with no response before huffing and storming off. The customer comes up to the counter with his game.)

Manager: “I’d give you a hug for that, but HR wouldn’t be happy with me, so I’m giving you a 15% discount on your purchase today, instead!”

(I am the manager on duty on an unusually busy Saturday, and have been manning the register and answering calls non-stop. Between me and my associate, we have missed maybe three phone calls. The customer in this story comes in with his son at the tail end of my ten-hour shift.)

Customer: *skipping everyone in line* “What the h*** is wrong with you people?”

Me: *literally turning away from my last customer to face him* “Excuse me?”

Customer: “I’ve been calling all day, and you ain’t once answered your phone!”

Me: “Sir, I’ve answered every phone call I could physically get my hands on. Either you called a different store, or you’re exaggerating how much effort you put into calling.”

Customer: “I always call this store! You’d better not be calling me a liar, you—“

(The phone rings. With quite a bit vindicated satisfaction, I hold up my index finger to silence the man and pick up the phone.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Store]. This is [My Name] speaking. How can I help you?”

Customer’s Son: “Hey, that’s the lady I talked to, Daddy!”

(I turned around so the customer couldn’t see me trying not to laugh at the expression on his face, and my coworker sent him to the back of the even longer line.)