Me: “Okay, would you like the cake to say anything?”

Customer: “Like what?”

Me: “Happy Birthday? Happy Tenth Birthday?”

Customer: “Oh! Well, if you could teach it to sing ‘Happy Birthday,’ that would be great!”

(I thought the customer was joking, so I wrote “Happy Birthday” on the cake as usual. Later on, the customer called in complaining that his cake didn’t sing when the candles were lit!)

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(I’ve just started working at this bagel shop, and am making a breakfast wrap that I’d only just learned out how to make about 20 minutes prior. I carry it to the counter and started ringing the customer up when my boss walks up behind me.)

Boss: “What the f*** is that?”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

(He points to the wrap I’ve just made.)

Boss: “I said what. The f***. Is THAT?!”

Me: “Um, it’s the breakfast wrap?”

Boss: “How the f*** do you think this is wrapped correctly? Are you an idiot? Are you slooooooow or something?”

(At this point, my boss starts doing an offensive and horrible impression of a mentally disabled person.)

Boss: “Hurr dee durr, I’m too stupid to wrap a f***ing breakfast sandwich!”

(Keep in mind, the customer hasn’t paid yet and has watched the entire conversation. He is a regular and knows I am new.)

Customer: “Excuse me, but where do you get off talking to this young lady like that? It looks fine and is probably delicious. I don’t mind; she’ll get the hang of it.”

Boss: “Shut up, a**hole! You can’t tell me how to talk to my employees! If she’s a stupid c***, I’ll tell her. I can say anything I want to her. I pay her check!”

(My boss walks away, but I’m nearly hyperventilating from trying not to cry. I meekly take the customer’s money and give him his change and breakfast. He hands me a $5 tip and pats my hand.)

Customer: “It’s okay, honey. You’re doing a good job. Don’t let her get to you. I’ll take care of it.”

(This statement confused me, but I found out later what he meant by it. Apparently, the customer knew the District Manager quite well, and immediately called him up to complain about my boss. The next day, my boss was gone!)

(I’m a carhop at the Sonic near my house. I had knee surgery a few months ago and have to wear a pretty heavy brace under my uniform to be able to walk. It also means I can’t skate. People can get pretty rude if you’re not on skates.)

Me: “Hi! Your total is [total].”

Customer: “Why aren’t you on skates?”

(I’m getting annoyed at this point. It’s Super Bowl Sunday and we’re busy.)

Me: “Skating isn’t required. ma’am. Your total is—”

Customer: *angrily* “I’m not going to give you my f****** money unless you’re on skates. I’m paying good money to this place so you should be on skates!”

Me: “I’m sorry. ma’am. I can’t skate. Your total is—”

Customer: “I’m not giving you s*** unless you go put on skates and give me my food!”

(The lady’s yelling at me now, but I’m still trying to be polite.)

Me: “I can’t give you your food until you give me the money, ma’am. And I can’t go put on skates.”

Customer: “WHY THE F*** NOT?!”

(I’m pissed at this point so I just say the first that comes to mind.)

Me: “I can’t skate because it makes my prosthetic leg fall off.”

Customer: “…Huh?”

Me: “The parking lot isn’t very smooth so the vibrations make my leg fall off.”

Customer: “You’re s****** me.”

Me: “No, ma’am, I’m not.”

(I knock on the metal of the brace to get the point across but she still doesn’t look convinced. Placing the tray of food on her car hood I unhook the brace on my leg. It sticks out at a weird angle and legitimately makes it look like I just took off my leg. The lady’s gone sheet white and is gaping like a fish at this point.)

Me: “Lost it last year.”

(I snap the brace back in place and pick the tray back up.)

Me: “Your total is [total].”

(The lady shoved a fifty in my face, grabbed her food, and peeled out of the parking lot. Happy about my thirty-something dollar tip I went back inside to get another order and found my manager and just about every other employee crowded about one of the intercoms and laughing their a**es off.)

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(I am an optometrist, selling glasses and contact lenses. A customer calls me up to ask about some contact lenses I sent to him in the mail.)

Customer: “Hi, I’m just calling to ask you which of the lenses is for which eye!”

Me: “I’m sorry! I am usually so careful about these things. I can’t believe I forgot to mark them.”

Customer: “Yeah, it says, ‘Right,’ on one of the boxes, but what about the other one?”

Me: “Uh, then the other one would be for your left eye.”

Customer: “Great, thanks!” *hangs up*

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(I’m on vacation and am going through border control in London. I’m spending three days in London then heading to Dublin, Ireland for a week.)

Border Agent: “What is the purpose of your visit?”

Me: “Holiday.”

Border Agent: “How long are you staying?”

Me: “Three days.”

Border Agent: “Only three days? Where are you going after that?”

Me: “I’m flying to Dublin, Ireland three days from now and then I’ll be there for seven days.”

Border Agent: “You’re going to Ireland? So you’re staying in the UK for ten days, not three.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m not going to Northern Ireland. I’m going to the Republic of Ireland… the country. So I’ll only be in the United Kingdom for three days. Then the country of Ireland for seven.”

Border Agent: *suddenly angry* “No! Ireland is part of the UK! If you’re flying to Ireland, you’ll still be in the UK! You Americans don’t know anything.”

Me: *giving up* “Whatever. Yes, I’ll be here for ten days.”

Border Agent: *friendly again* “Okay! Enjoy your holiday!”