I am a Londoner. I’ve lost track of the amount of times I’ve had this conversation.
Q: Where are you from?
ME: London
Q: But where are you from originally?
ME: London
Q: No, I mean, where is your home?
ME: London
Q: No, I mean, where is your family from?
ME:London
Q: But where were you born?
ME: (beginning to lose patience) ST. MARY’S!!!!

People seem to think no-one is ever BORN in London, we all move there as adults to work…..

It is the holiday season at a major department store. Obviously, the holidays bring out “the best” in people, but this particular situation sticks out in my mind.

A customer comes up to the register. She’s an elderly woman and a repeat problem customer. To this day, I don’t know if she was attention-seeking, looking to get free stuff or unearned discounts, or genuinely believed she was being wronged.

The first problem that comes up is more of a personal gripe of mine, but she wants her items rung up in multiple transactions. “Fine,” I think. “The customer is always right, even if we’re slammed with over a hundred people trying to check out and she has a cart loaded to the brim with toys and clothes.” I think she wants a way to track what she gives to what family, but she explicitly does not want gift receipts.

Things continue on fairly smoothly, with everything being paid for in cash. Then, about halfway through, during one of the payments, she hands me the bills to pay and then puts the exact coins on the counter like some kind of afterthought, after I have already punched in the amount she handed me.

While my math skills are far below brag-worthy, I can somewhat count change, and it is simple enough to figure out that this will just push her cash back to the next dollar amount up, and that’s what I hand her.

She notices this small discrepancy between her receipt and cash back and asks me about it. I politely explain what I did and how she has all her change currently correct, and this sates her for about a grand total of five minutes before she starts accusing me of short-changing her a total of about fifty-two cents.

I tell her I did not short her, and she has more change than the receipts say — the exact opposite of shorting someone. However, she is having none of it, and the amount grows from fifty-two cents to about five dollars.

I relent and I call a manager over, explain the situation, and have them take over. I am overdue for a break, anyway.

On my way to the break room about five minutes later, I pass by the registers where the woman is yelling at another manager. She spots me and says, “THAT’S HIM! HE STOLE MY TWENTY DOLLARS!”

I had to explain my side a couple more times but was never reprimanded. Later, I learned that the woman was banned from the store. It was one of the very few times that job ever had my back, and getting someone like that banned is one of the few fond memories I ever had there.

A guy comes to the returns desk, looking real mad.

Customer: “I sent my wife in with a written list specifically requesting a ¾ inch female copper elbow, and your staff sold my wife a male elbow instead!”

It’s been thirty years now, I don’t remember if he had a receipt, but it had our store sticker on it and they were not terribly expensive.

Me: “I apologize for your inconvenience. Go get the fitting you need and come back to me and I’ll take care of the exchange.”

Once Mr. Angry man has the fitting he wants and is out the door, I call up someone from plumbing to collect their returns and confirm what I was pretty sure I knew… that Mr. Angry wrote “female” on his wife’s shopping list, and that she had indeed purchased a female pipe fitting, just as his note requested.

What he wanted/needed was a male pipe fitting. 

I wanted so much to tell him he was an idiot, but I knew he’d never believe me. I sometimes wonder if he ever figured it out, and if he apologized to his wife, who I’m sure deserved one.

I bought three tickets to a concert so my husband, kid, and I could see a band we really like. About two hours before the concert, just as we leave, my kid has a panic attack and insists on not going. We call everyone we know who is within driving distance, and everyone we ask is either too tired or has other plans. 

About forty-five minutes later, my husband and I decide we’ll just go and the third ticket — about $50 after fees — will be a wash.

We wait in line, and just as we are almost in the venue, I spot a solitary guy buying a ticket at the box office. I quickly step out of line and approach him.

Me: “I’m sorry to bother you, but are you buying just one ticket?”

Guy: “Yes?”

Me: “Okay. I have a spare ticket; come with me and I’ll get you in.”

Guy: “Really?”

I’m rushing as my husband is almost to the security portion of the check-in.

Me: “Yes, but we have to go now.”

The guy is confused but follows me.

Guy: “Okay…”

We hop back in line and get through security. My husband, being a doofus, forgets things in his pocket and takes a little longer to get through the process. The random guy and I are at the ticket scanner.

Guy: *Reaching for his wallet* “I don’t have much in cash, but I can give you probably $20.”

Me: “Don’t worry about it. I’m just happy the ticket is getting used!”

Guy: “Are you sure? I can’t believe this. It was my birthday this weekend, but things haven’t been going so great. This is the first good thing that has happened in a while.”

My husband catches up to us, and I get the three tickets scanned. As we get through, the guy pulls out his wallet again.

Guy: “Are you sure you don’t want any cash?”

Me: “I’m sure! Get yourself a drink and have a good time! And happy birthday!”

Guy: “Well, thank you!”

We went our merry way. Throughout the night, I saw the guy chatting with a friend of his, and he looked to be having a great time.

Wherever you are, random guy, I hope that your luck turned around and that good things came your way again!

I take a call at the restaurant.

Caller: “I need to complain about how long my delivery is taking!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we’re really busy and—”

Caller: “This is why no one goes to your restaurant!”

This makes me laugh as I looked over at the full dining room, full bar, and several customers waiting. Yeah, okay Nancy.