(I’m trying to get into a bar, and the bouncer cards me. I hand him my ID.)

Bouncer: “This doesn’t look like you. Are you sure this is yours?”

Me: “Yes!”

Bouncer: “What’s your name?”

Me: *I answer*

Bouncer: “Address?”

Me: *I answer*

Bouncer: “Height?”

Me: *I answer*

Bouncer: “Eye colour?”

(I start to answer, but he interrupts.)

Bouncer: “Wait, no cheating!” *covers my eyes with his hand*

Me: “Wait, did you just cover MY eyes so I couldn’t see what colour they were?”

Bouncer: *completely serious* “Yes.”

Me: *speechless*

(I’m a customer at a local butcher with my mum. An older customer, maybe in his 60s, is giving the employee behind the counter a hard time. He’s patronising her and being all-around unhelpful. It’s obvious the employee is new and, by the way she is talking, appears to have a disability.)

Customer: *jabs a finger at the meat* “No! Not that piece! THAT one!”

(This has been going on for several minutes, and the employee is nearly in tears.)

Customer: *sarcastically* “I’m only trying to help you, love!”

(My mum, who is usually very easy-going, suddenly confronts the customer.)

My Mum: “No, you’re not! You’re being very rude!”

Customer: “Look, I just want my meat! Is that so hard?”

My Mum: “Well, you don’t have to be so rude about it! This poor girl is trying her best!”

Customer: “You can’t talk to me like that! I used to be an officer of the law!”

My Mum: “That’s worse! You should be ashamed of yourself, a man your age behaving like this!”

Customer: “Why don’t you step outside? I’ll have you arrested!”

My Mum: “I’d like to see you try!”

(Seeing that my mum isn’t going to be intimidated or back down, the customer leaves, looking very subdued. My mum quickly orders her meat and leaves before the employee, who is now truly in tears, can thank her properly.)

Me: *as we’re leaving* “Mum, she wanted to thank you.”

My Mum: “Being in one scene was embarrassing enough. I don’t need to be in two, thank-you-very-much!”

(My cousin is only six months pregnant, but since she’s having twins, she looks further along than she is. I take her out to lunch one day and this exchange occurs.)

Waiter: “Hi, ladies.” *to my cousin* “Wow, you must be ready to pop any day, huh?”

My Cousin: *laughs* “No, actually, but I’m having twins, so I’m a little bigger than normal.”

Waiter: “Ah, I see. So, what can I get—”

(Suddenly, the customer at the next table rudely interrupts us.)

Rude Customer: “Bulls***! It’s women like you always craving attention that make people hate females!”

Me: *to waiter* “To answer your question, you can get that woman away from us.”

Waiter: “That can be arranged!”

(The customer was kicked out, and we got a discount on our meal!)

(A customer walks up with a dead, five-foot-tall maple sapling at the garden center where I work. It has been cut with a handsaw and has obviously been dead for a least three or four months.)

Customer: “I want a refund! You sold me this tree last summer, but in November the leaves all turned yellow, dried out, and fell off. I want a refund!”

Me: “So, in autumn your tree lost its leaves?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “Sir, broadleaf trees in Canada like this do lose their leaves in the fall and then grow back in the spring. Your tree was just dormant for the winter.”

Customer: “But after the leaves all fell off, I put it in the garage! Now it’s spring, and the leaves aren’t growing back, so it must be defective. I want a refund NOW!”

Me: “When you put your tree into your garage in the fall, how did you get it in there?”

Customer: “I cut it!”

Me: “So, you cut it down and now you want a refund because it’s dead?”

Customer: “I want to speak to the owner!”

(I call the owner, who is a hard-nosed woman in her sixties.)

Owner: “What seems to be the problem, sir?”

Customer: “Yeah, this tree you sold me last year is dead. I want a refund.”

Owner: “Was it alive before you put a saw to it?”

Customer: “Well, it was, and then in November all of the leaves turned yellow and fell off, so I cut it and put it in my garage. Now I want a refund!”

Owner: “Get out of here!”

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(I am working the first window of the drive-thru taking people’s money. Our store has a policy that if you don’t get a receipt or if you are not offered a receipt, then your order is free. A man comes up to my window and shoves a wad of bills and change into my hand and immediately drives off to the next window. I don’t think much of it, because the guy had exact change. A short time later, my manager comes up to me.)

Manager: “A customer is insisting on getting their food for free. He says that you didn’t give him his receipt nor ask him if he wanted one.”

(I explain to my manager what happened, and then go and talk to the customer.)

Me: “Sir, you didn’t give me a chance to offer you a receipt or to complete the transaction. As soon as you gave me your money, you sped off.”

Customer: “That’s NOT what the sign says! It’s not my fault you’re slow! I was not given a receipt, correct? You did not ask me if I wanted a receipt, correct? Therefore, I get my food for free!”

(My manager decides not to argue with the man and refunds his money. A few days later, a man places an order and I am pretty sure it is the same customer. Sure enough, I immediately recognize him when he pulls up to my window. Again, he shoves a wad of bills and change at me. However, I don’t reach out to take it just yet.)

Me: “Good evening, sir! Would you like your receipt today?”

Customer: “D*** it! You recognized me, didn’t you?”