(I work at a music store which also offers private lessons. There’s a student practicing on a piano when another customer comes in.)

Me: “Welcome to [Music Store]. How may I help you today?”

Customer: “I’d like to buy a piano for my son. He’s starting lessons next week.”

Me: “Digital, upright, or grand?”

Customer: “I just want a piano!”

Me: “Certainly. This is the Roland RD-700GX, which–”

Customer: “Is that girl for sale with that piano?” *points to the girl*

Me: “Uh, no, ma’am. That is a student. She’s just practicing.”

Customer: “Well, I want that girl to teach my son! How much does she cost?”

Me: “Ma’am, she is NOT for sale.”

Customer: “She’s not? But she’s sitting right there! This is false advertisement!”

Me: “We sell pianos, ma’am. Not children.”

Customer: “But it’ll be so romantic to have that playing in the background during meals!”

Me: “Ma’am. For the last time, she is not for sale. Please stop.”

Customer: *walks over to girl* “Hello!”

Girl: “Uh… hi?”

Customer: “How much do you cost?”

Girl: *without missing a beat* “Lady, you must be really desperate if you’re looking for a hooker in a music store!”

Customer: *quickly leaves the store*

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(My father owns an auto shop where I sometimes work part time. Late one afternoon, a woman comes in.)

Me: “May I help you?”

Customer: “Yes. I need my car inspected.”

Me: “Well, we’re not taking any more inspections this afternoon. May I schedule you for tomorrow?”

Customer: “No, I want my car inspected now.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we take in our last inspection at 4:00 so we have time to pack up and shut down the machine.”

Customer: “Yes, but I just bought my car from [Dealer] and they told me I could bring my car here to get inspected for free.”

Me: “Yes, they will pay for your inspection here, but we’re closing soon. I’d be happy to schedule you an appointment for another day.”

Customer: “No! This is an outrage! At [Dealer] they told me I could bring in my car ANY TIME to be inspected here!”

Me: “Um… well…”

Customer: “I want my car inspected RIGHT NOW. They told me I could have it inspected any time!”

Me: “Ma’am, it’s 4:45 and we are closing in 15 minutes. We don’t have time…”

Customer: “Where is your manager!? I want to speak to your manager!”

Me: “Um… I’m afraid he’s out test driving a car.”

Customer: “That’s unacceptable! Is there anyone else I can talk to? I need to get my car inspected!”

Me: “Hold on…”

(I go out into the shop and check, but sure enough the only other person still here this late is the trainee mechanic. The woman proceeds to yell at us for about ten minutes. Eventually, my dad returns from his test drive.)

Me: “Dad, can you help this woman?”

Dad: “What can I do for you today?”

Customer: “I brought my car here from [Dealer] for an inspection but they won’t give one to me!”

(My dad proceeds to tell her everything I told her, smiling through all her abuse. Eventually…)

Customer: “Fine! This is an outrage! I’m going to write a complaint letter to [Dealer] about you!”

Dad: “Yeah, good luck with that.”

Me: “My God.”

Dad: “Let me give you a little advice about people like that. When somebody gets all worked up at you like that, you need to remain calm. Because the calmer you are, the angrier they get, and it’s REALLY funny.”

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(I work the floor at an independently-owned menswear store. The owner, my boss, spends a lot of time at the shop, and tries to keep prices as low as possible to help our city’s large homeless population get good job interview clothes. A clearly homeless man is wandering around the store. The other patrons are giving him looks.)

Customer: “Excuse me, sir?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am?”

Customer: “I think you may want to call security. That… bum over there, he keeps feeling the suits and muttering to himself. I’m just sure he’s planning to steal one.”

Me: “Well, ma’am, I think that’s quite unlikely.”

Customer: “Oh, come on, you know how they are! I mean, I’d keep an eye on him even if he wasn’t homeless!”

(The homeless man in question happens to be Hispanic.)

Me: “We don’t discriminate here, ma’am.”

Customer: “Well, I’m sure the owner would want to hear about this!”

(I give in and call him over. The customer explains her concerns. As a black man, my boss isn’t happy with her racism, but agrees to talk to the homeless man.)

Owner: “Excuse me, sir, are you finding what you need?”

Homeless Man: “Well, not really. I’m hoping for something versatile in a dark or navy wool, but most of the options in my size are cut American style instead of European, which fits me a little better. Not to mention they’re all pinstriped, which I really don’t have the build for, you know?”

Owner: “I… yes, I understand. I think we may have some options over here, if you’ll follow me. How did you know all that?”

Homeless Man: “Back before I lost my job, I used to be really into this stuff. I’m not looking for anything fancy, just something I can use to look good for a job interview later today.”

(My boss helps him find something he likes, and comes to the counter with him. The suit is priced at $87.)

Homeless Man: *digging in his pockets* “Hang on, I think I’ve got enough.”

Owner: *to me* “Take my card. I’m buying it for him.” *to the homeless man* “Here. The suit’s yours, on one condition. After your interview today, you come back and apply for a job here, too. Got it?”

Homeless Man: “I… oh, my God, thank you. Thank you so much.”

(Two years later, that formerly-homeless man is my manager, and has a little girl with his new wife — the owner’s sister.)

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(I am working at a packing house, cutting checks for local dairy farmers who sell us one or two cows at a time. They are given a scale ticket in the barn, which I use to cut a check.)

Me: “Hi, can I have your scale ticket?”

Farmer: “I’d like him to help me.” *points at a USDA associate*

Me: “Sorry, sir, but he doesn’t work for us. He works for the USDA.”

Farmer: “Well, I’d like you to find a MAN who can cut me a check for my cows.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but none of the men that work here know how to cut checks. All our office staff members are women.”

Farmer: “Don’t lie, you little hussy! Only men can run a business! You go back to making coffee!”

Me: “Sir, you run a dairy farm, correct?”

Farmer: “Yeah.”

Me: “And you make money from the milk you sell?”

Farmer: “That’s how a dairy farm works, sweetheart. Now get me a–”

Me: “So, basically, milk is money to you?”

Farmer: “Yes. Now get me a–”

Me: “And does the milk come from male cattle?”

Farmer: “Ha ha! NO!”

Me: *pointed look*

Farmer: *hands me the scale ticket*

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Customer: “I’d like pineapple on my sub.”

Me: “I’m sorry, we don’t have pineapple. Only [Other Sandwich Shop] has pineapple.”

Customer: “Yes, you do! I always get pineapple here!”

Me: “I’ve worked here for quite a while, and we’ve never had it. Sorry!”

Customer: “Excuse me, the customer is always right! You can’t argue with me!”

Me: “Um…”

Customer:  *to my manager* “Excuse me, your employee is arguing with me! What are you going to do about it?”

Manager: “Don’t be so stupid! Get out of my store!”

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