(A little old lady approaches me and a new employee while we’re standing in the movie theater lobby.)

Customer: *dances*

Me: “That’s nice, ma’am.”

Customer: *continues dancing*

Me: “Um… I don’t know how to respond to that.”

Customer: *continues dancing*

Me: “I’m sorry, I really don’t know how to respond.”

Customer: “You could say ‘You’re a great dancer!'” *walks toward the concession stand*

New Guy: “Does that happen often?”

Me: “No. Believe it or not, that’s actually a new one.”

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(It’s a busy Saturday, and both our cash registers are lined up with customers. A woman is stood next to the line-up, clearing her throat and trying to get my attention. She finally shoves her way to the cash, ahead of the line-up.)

Customer: “I need to return all these stickers. I was charged $7, when they’re only supposed to be $2!”

(I’d normally send her to the back of the line, but at this point it will be faster just to serve her and get her out of the way.)

Me: “I’m sorry about that, sometimes when we’re busy a cashier can miss a mistake like that. I just need your receipt.”

Customer: “I don’t have my receipt! I shouldn’t have to keep my receipt; you made the mistake!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am; but I cannot do a return or exchange without a receipt. There has been an issue lately of people trying to return items they didn’t pay for.”

Customer: “Are you calling me a thief? You charged me $5 extra per sticker, and I bought ten stickers! Give me my money!”

Me: “Again, ma’am, I’m sorry. I cannot do a return or exchange without a receipt. If you’d like to wait a few minutes, my manager will be back from her break. Honestly, she’s only going to tell you the same thing, however.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous, I’m not waiting around for anyone! You’re wasting my time; now give me my money back! This happens all the time here! You guys didn’t ask for a receipt the last time! I’m a paying customer! I bought a bunch of these stickers before, and the same thing happened!”

Me: “If this has happened to you with this item before, why didn’t you confirm they were ringing in at the correct price the second time?”

(The woman turns beet red. Without saying anything, she throws the stack of stickers at me and storms out the door, shoving past people as she goes.)

Next Customer: “They really need to give you kids hazard pay for this s***.”

(I work second shift, so I get home around 1:00 am. It’s summer, so there’s no school, but teens still have a city curfew of 11:00 pm. I’m turning left onto my street after work, and I almost hit a teen who was crossing the street behind a stopped car, who I didn’t see until I was almost on top of him. Mr. Big Man flips me off, which I see in my rearview mirror. He must’ve watched which driveway I pulled into, because I get an unexpected visit the next morning at 9:00 am, when I’m pulled out of bed by a knock. I open the door, half asleep, to see a cop and the boy standing at my door.)

Cop: “Good morning. Is that your car outside?”

Me: “Yeah.”

Cop: “Did you hit this boy with that car last night?”

Me: “No.”

Teen: “She’s lying! Arrest her!”

Cop: *to the teen* “Shush.” *to me* “He says you did. How about we go to the station and get this cleared up?”

(The teen starts looking quite smug.)

Me: “Sure. Should I also bring along the dash cam video that shows this minor out after curfew, crossing the street in a dark area, and staring down at his phone the entire time, up until I almost hit him?”

(The teen’s smug face drops. The cop studies me for a couple of seconds, and then just gives me a single nod.)

Cop: “Thank you, that won’t be necessary. When my dear nephew here—“ *raises his hand to grasp the back of the teen’s neck* “—told me a car practically ran him off the road, I figured I’d better look into it. But I believe you, and I’ll make sure he has plenty to do to stay busy until school resumes. Have a nice day, miss.”

(They left, the cop still holding tight to his nephew’s neck, while the boy started begging his uncle to NOT tell Mom or his grandparents about this. Good luck, kid!)

(A young, very good looking teacher joins this semester and all the girls swoon after him. This is my first class with him and many of my other female classmates do the same.)

Teacher: “All right. Enough of this ogling, girls. Listen up, now. I’M GAY! Okay?”

(My female classmates were all disappointed.)

Male Classmate: “Hey, teacher! I’m gay, too. Can I ogle you?”

Teacher: “Uhh. Oh, dear. But no, don’t ogle me either. Please.”

(I am a breakfast chef at a five-star hotel. We have a lot of North American customers who are unfamiliar with some popular European foods. A waiter draws my attention to an order they have just taken.)

Waiter: “Vegetarian breakfast with black pudding. I tried explaining but she just shoo-ed me away.”

(Black pudding is made from pigs’ blood.)

Me: “Do you want to check again, that she’s sure?”

(The waiter goes off to check again with the customer and returns a minute later.)

Waiter: “She’s sure. She ate it before and it was delicious. And she isn’t very happy at her order being questioned.”

Me: “I’ll just go and check.”

(I go to the customer’s table.)

Me: “Are you a vegetarian, ma’am?”

Guest: “Yes. Yes, I am.”

Me: “Are you aware of what black pudding is?”

Guest: “Look, I had it for the first time a few days ago and it was delicious. Now, just get me my d*** breakfast.”

Me: “Can I just explain…”

(I go into the full details of how black pudding is made, with the boiling of the pigs’ blood, the addition of oatmeal and diced pig fat, etc. I note the customer going greener and greener as the story goes on.)

Guest: “Actually, could I just have cereal and toast, please?”

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