(I’m sitting in a coworker’s office when the phone rings. My coworker picks it up and has the following conversation:)

Coworker: “[Business Name]. This is [Coworker]. How can I help you?”

Patient: “Yes, is there an Amanda there?”

Coworker: “No, I’m sorry there’s not an Amanda here. Can I have your name so I can find you in the system?” *Patient gives her name* “Great, how can I help you today?”

Patient: “She was a very nice young lady who helped me sign up for a program last year to help with paying for things…” *patient trails off*

Coworker: “Oh, yes, I do see that you’re signed up for the [Program] for last year. If you want to re-enroll, you’ll need to call them and have them send some paperwork out to you.”

Patient: “I have to call them?”

Coworker: “Yes, you need to call them.”

Patient: “But you did it for me last year!”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, they won’t talk to us; they need to talk to you.”

Patient: “Fine.” *hangs up*

(Less than five minutes later the phone rings again. It’s the same patient.)

Coworker: “How can I help you?”

Patient: “I tried calling, but I had to wait on hold for so long and I can’t do that. Can you do this for me?”

Coworker: “No, ma’am, you need to do this yourself.”

Patient: “But I can’t hold on for so long! Can’t you call them and wait for me?”

Coworker: “No, ma’am, they won’t talk to us. They need to talk to you. You need to call and wait on hold.”

Patient: “But I’ve got the flu and I can’t hold for so long.”

Coworker: “Maybe you can call again in a couple of days when you feel better.”

Patient: “But can’t you call for me?”

Coworker: “No, you need to do this yourself.”

(I work in a restaurant that sells turkey meals. One Saturday, just as I’m about to get off, a man walks in.)

Me: “Hello! What can I get for you today?”

Customer: “I’ll have a turkey meal.”

Me: “Would you like gravy with that?”

Customer: “Did I ask for gravy?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I had to ask. Would you like any sides?”

Customer: “Are you f****** deaf or something? I said I wanted turkey.”

(I can tell the customer is getting agitated and I am trying to remain calm. I move over to the register to ring up his order.)

Me: “Sir, would you like a drink?”

Customer: “God, you are so f****** stupid! I SAID I WANTED TURKEY!”

(The man begins to yell a long string of curse words and the manager is called. At this point I’m on the verge of tears.)

Manager: “Is there a problem?”

Customer: “F*** YEAH, THERE’S A PROBLEM!”

(The customer continues to scream curses at me. The manager turns to me.)

Manager: “Is there a problem?”

Me: “I asked him if he wanted gravy, sides, and a drink.”

(The manager tells me to go wait in the back and continues to ring up the customer’s order while he is still screaming. After the customer leaves, the manager comes to see me.)

Manager: “I’m so sorry.”

Me: “What was that?”

Coworker: “You just met the Turkey Guy.”

(It turned out this guy came in every Saturday and ordered the same thing every time. Now I know why no one wanted to work Saturdays.)

(For a while we had these bouncy balls with pretend fish in them and when one was on its stand it would look like the fish were swimming. An eight- or nine-year-old boy grabs one and bounces it hard on the ground.)

Boy: *looking disappointed* “Aw, I thought it was glass.”

Customer: “What sort of alcohol would you recommend for a single lady in her mid 30s who lives by herself?”

Me: “Cats.”

(I am at a small-chain grocery store on one of their busiest days because they run significant discounts. I pick up a loaf of artisan bread, put it in my cart next to my reusable bags (in California, people often bring our own because store bags are at least 10 cents each), and take a number at the deli. While I am being served at the deli, somebody walks away with my cart. It happens sometimes when the store is crowded, so I don’t make a fuss about it, take another cart, and hope that my bags will be returned at the cash register when the erring customer discovers they took somebody else’s cart by mistake. About 20 minutes into my shopping, I hear angry screeching at the cash register, so, curious, I go to see what’s going on. Here is what I observe:)

Customer: “You are making me pay for things I did not put in the cart! You are trying to sell me this expensive bread, and I didn’t take it!”

Cashier: “I am sorry, ma’am. As I said, if you don’t want it, we can return it to the bakery. I already took it off.”

Customer: “You tried to cheat me! You tried to pass this bread on me! Who the h*** charges $4.99 for a loaf of bread?!”

Cashier: “This is artisan bread made fresh every couple of hours, but you do not have to pay for it, ma’am. We are going to take it back to the bakery.”

Customer: “You are thieves! I did not put this bread into my cart! You put it there!”

Cashier: “Ma’am, I am not saying you put it there. Maybe another customer did it by mistake, thinking it was their cart. We are not charging you for it. Can I process your payment now, please?”

Customer: “It’s enough that you are charging for bags now! Anything to make profit! Thieves!”

Cashier: “Ma’am, I have no control over the bag charge. It’s the state law. We are not charging you for the bread. Can you please pay for your order now?”

Customer: *suddenly calm* “Yes. And I don’t want any of your overpriced store bags. I have my own.”

(Too stunned to say anything, I saw the hag hand her MY reusable bags. They are quite distinctive because several of them are from the conferences I have attended in my profession over the past years, and one is from a fundraiser from my children’s school. It would be quite a bizarre coincidence for somebody else to have the exact same set of assorted reusable bags. Unfortunately, I was too flabbergasted to claim them, and the pilferer walked out of the store with them.)