I am working a closing shift. Because our store is small, we don’t have maintenance to clean our bathrooms like the other stores in our chain, so a coworker and I share the duty. By this point I have only been there a few weeks.

Friday of that week rolls around, and it’s my turn again. I clean the women’s room. All good and fine. Then, just before I start on the men’s restroom, a regular barges in saying he needs the restroom. He is in there a while, so I do my closing returns. I finally see him leave, and I go to clean the men’s room.

That’s when I see it: he has drawn smiley faces in his own waste all over the walls. I run and get my manager. He shakes his head. “Looks like the Friday Night Bandit has struck again.”

According to him, the same guy has been doing that for the year we have been open.

(This is right after the 2016 elections:)

Customer: “I need to overnight this to [City in South Florida].”

Me: “All right, anything hazardous, liquid, toxic, or perishable?”

Customer: “It’s liquid.”

Me: “All right, what kind?”

Customer: “Why do you need to know?”

Me: “Because there are some liquids that can’t go overnight because they aren’t safe in the pressurized hold of an airplane.”

Customer: “This won’t go on an airplane. It’s only going four hours away.”

Me: “Actually, [City in south Florida] is outside the distribution area for [Local Terminal], so this item with be flown out tonight to [Central Hub] where it will be sorted with other packages meant for [Destination Terminal] and flown back in tonight.”

Customer: “That’s stupid! Trump is gonna fix that!”

Me: “Trump is going to change [Major Global Shipping Company]’s entire business model and stop them from using central distribution?”

Customer: “Yeah. It’s stupid.”

Me: *dead inside* “Okay. I still need to know what kind of liquid it is.”

(It was alcohol. We’re not licensed to ship alcohol. When he asked why, I wish I’d been smart enough to tell him that Trump hasn’t fixed us yet.)

(I work in a bookstore during college. A classmate of mine also works there, and is cleaning the glass windows by the entrance. A father with a young son walks up and stops near my classmate.)

Father: *talking to his son* “See this, [Son]? That is why you go to college.”

Classmate: “Excuse me. I’m in college. This job helps me pay for it.”

Father: “Yeah? Well, I bet it’s not a good college.”

I’m on a job to, among other things, repair a light over a client’s front door. The issue as described by the client is that it doesn’t always come on every time they flip the switch.

I talk to the property manager and he shows me the switch — in a bank of about eight others — that controls the light. I turn it on and off several times and cannot replicate the issue, but to be thorough, I open the fixture and inspect everything. I tell the property manager that it seems to be in proper working order, but I can replace the functional parts just to be certain. He agrees and I proceed.

When I’m finished, I show him that it’s working properly by again repeatedly turning it on and off. He agrees that it’s good to go.

The next day, when we return to finish the rest of the work, he approaches me again and says they’re still having the same issue. This time the client is home so I speak to her directly. I ask her to show me what happens when she turns it on.

She proceeds to flip every single one of the aforementioned eight switches before coming to the one that actually controls the light, and then she says, “See? It doesn’t work.”

Containing my laughter, I show her that it’s only tied to the one switch and repeat the process of turning it on and off, showing her that it’s functioning normally.

The client says, “Oh, well, now it works!”

(I work part-time for a ride-sharing company. I get a call to pick up a woman in an area I am unfamiliar with. It takes me an extra few minutes to find the location as the GPS is unclear; however, I eventually find the location: a movie theater with a roundabout in front of it. The area is filled with people and cars and I don’t see anyone who looks like a potential rider, so I pull off to the side of the road to call the customer.)

Me: “Hello, this is your driver and I’m trying to find you. Are you in front of the movie theater?”

Customer: “How can you not see me? I’m wearing a red jacket.”

(I look around for a female with a red jacket and see no one.)

Me: “I don’t see anyone matching that description.”

(I describe my car to her and she said she sees me but I still cannot see her. At this moment, a traffic cop indicates to me that I cannot stay where I am and that I have to proceed around the roundabout.)

Me: “Ma’am, the traffic cop is telling me to go around the circle, so just wait for me on the other side.”

(I hang up with her and start to go around the circle. Due to congestion, the traffic is slow around the circle. I see a woman and two kids eyeing me. Note that this woman is NOT wearing a red jacket or anything else red, but I see that she is watching me so I figure this is most likely the rider. I exit the roundabout and pull over to the side of the road. The woman opens my door.)

Customer: “You just pulled away when I tried to get into your car!”

Me: “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you try to get in. Besides, I had to get out of the roundabout so I wouldn’t block traffic.”

Customer: “Well, I don’t feel safe, so I’m going to call someone else!” *slams door*

Me: *thinking* “You shouldn’t feel safe approaching a moving vehicle in the middle of an intersection!”

(I cancelled the ride, but unfortunately, because I indicated that the “rider cancelled” instead of waiting for her to cancel it herself, I didn’t get paid. A lesson for next time, though.)