(I work in a gas station in a small community just off the interstate. I’m used to seeing groggy truckers and what not. It is 7:00 am and a young woman, maybe nineteen or twenty, comes shuffling in. She comes to the counter with two cappuccinos from our self-serve machine.)

Me: “How are you today, ma’am?”

Customer: *very soft, and rubbing her eyes* “I’m okay, and you?”

Me: “I’m good. Your total is $4.65.”

(She carefully and slowly counts out four dollars and hands it to me. I look at it for a second and before I can say anything, she shakes her head.)

Customer: “F***, I’m sorry. It’s early.”

(She handed me change from her other hand and grabbed the coffees. I could tell she really needed it!)

(Our cafe has fake succulents displayed on the tables. One day, we realize that some have gone missing, but we don’t really think too much of it until one day a lady comes in, fuming.)

Lady: “I demand a refund! You sold me defective goods!”

(She slams a pot of succulents on the counter.)

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am, but this is a cafe; we do not sell—”

Lady: “Oh, shut up! I took these plants from here two weeks ago and I just found out they’re fake! This is unacceptable!”

Me: *pause* “You took these from us?”

Lady: “Yes, I’m a customer and you ripped me off! Get me your manager. I want a refund!”

Me: “Ma’am, these fake plants are our decoration. They’re not for sale. You just admitted you stole these from us.”

Lady: “REFUND!”

(She threw the pot at me, soil and fake succulents and all, and stormed out. We never heard from her again.)

(I’m the customer in this story. I’m trying to order a sandwich. They have three types: beef, chicken, and vegetarian.)

Me: “One beef chicken, please.”

Deli Worker: “Uhm… sorry?”

Me: “One beef chicken.”

Deli Worker: “I’m sorry miss?”

Me: “One beef chicken, please.”

Deli Worker: “So beef or chicken?”

Me: “What?”

Deli Worker: *points at the selection, smiles*

Me: “Oh, my God, I’m such an idiot. One beef sandwich, please.”

(I work in a library. In my experience, there tends to be a reason homeless people are homeless, and that reason is not so much bad luck so much as an inability to obey the basic rules of life. I’m working at the information desk when a customer with a scruffy beard, cane, and hoodie comes up to me. He positively reeks of stale cigarette ashes.)

Me: “Yes, sir, can I help you?”

Customer: “I need a book of civil law.”

Me: “Okay.”

(I start looking at what we have. I pull up a range of different records covering civil law, but there’s nothing with THAT particular set of words in the title. By this point, the customer has started listening to loud rap music over his headphones.)

Me: “Sir?”

Customer: *doesn’t respond*

Me: “Uh, sir?”

Customer: *takes his headphones out* “What?!”

Me: *taken aback* “Uh, what kind of civil law do you need?”

Customer: “I just need a book of civil law!”

Me: “Okay. Can you come with me, please?” *gets up from my desk, intending to show him to our law section, but he doesn’t follow* “Sir? Can you please come with me?”

Customer: *sucks his teeth angrily and finally stomps after me*

(I think he seriously expected me to bring the books back for him as if I were his servant! Anyway, I show him to our section on law. This covers common topics like divorce, bankruptcy, self-representation, custody, etc.) 

Me: “I’m afraid we don’t have much for civil law, specifically, but we do have a large section of common law topics. And here is a book I think you would find useful.” *gives him a law encyclopedia*

Customer: “F****** b****! Forces me to walk all this way, doesn’t even have the thing I’m looking for!” *stomps away*

Me: “Yeah, you’re welcome, sweetheart!”

Customer: “Don’t you f****** tell me I’m welcome; you couldn’t even answer a simple question!”

(I might have led him to our online repository of state law had he not gone out of his way to be so rude.)

(I work in a department store. Today, I am the door greeter; I also check bags on customers leaving, direct customers to areas, and answer general questions they might have.)

Customer: “Hi, darl, I know I should be at the customer service desk but there is a long line and you might be able to help here. I just bought this iron but the plug won’t fit into the power point.”

(The customer holds up the iron. I see the plastic cover on the plug and take it off.)

Me: “There you go! Most products come with this cover now.”

Customer: *stares for a moment* “My husband is not going to let me forget this; he was insisting the product was fine and I didn’t believe him. Thanks, darl!”