(I begin to ring up a customer’s purchases at the register.)

Customer: “Wait! When you ring up the bagged bulk items, don’t put them on the part the laser shines through. Weigh them on the metal, please.”

Me: “Is it a problem if I scan everything else?”

Customer: “No, it’s just that the bags are clear and the laser gives you cancer.”

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(My restaurant has a policy to give out the restroom key to paying customers only. This is to reduce how often we have to clean up blood, drug paraphernalia, and, on occasion, corpses.)

General Manager: *to a customer exiting the bathroom* “WHO GAVE YOU THE KEY?”

New Coworker: “Um, I did. Was I not supposed to?”

(The General Manager continues to shout at the new coworker in front of all the customers—including the one who had just left the bathroom.)

General Manager: “Why would you do that?! He could have been a drug addict shooting up in there, and then we would have to clean up after him! You never give the key to someone who’s not a customer! What is wrong with you?!”

(Later on, I take the new coworker aside.)

Me: “Look, [New Coworker], do you remember what I told you on your first day of training?”

New Coworker: “That [General Manager] is very intense sometimes?”

Me: “As you can see, that was probably the understatement of the century. Don’t let it get you down. It was my mistake for not telling you the policy when I trained you. You’re doing a great job.”

(The next day, I walk in to overhear my general manager yelling at another new coworker, but this time for NOT giving a bathroom key to a customer. It should be noted this other coworker had heard about the previous day’s incident, and, being new, was understandably afraid to give out the bathroom key. Again, my general manager is making no effort to keep the ‘discussion’ away from customers.)

General Manager: *to another coworker* “Why wouldn’t you give him the bathroom key?! He’s obviously NOT a druggie! He’s one of the builders from the construction site across the street who just needed to use the bathroom! That could be considered TORTURE! What is wrong with you?!”

(Later that day, after more damage control with the new coworkers, I see a customer stumble out of the restroom. This customer has been previously banned for leaving behind hypodermic needles, blood, and certain other bodily fluids.)

Me: *to the General Manager* “Isn’t that the guy we banned last week?”

General Manager: “Yes, it is.”

Me: “How did he get the bathroom key?”

General Manager: “He bought something, so I gave it to him! Go clean the bathroom!”

(A group of young kids comes into the store. One of them is running around, asking questions without paying attention to the answers, being messy, and generally being annoying. Also, the store is going to be shut down in a few weeks, which has understandably left all of us on edge.)

Polite Kid: “I’d like this one, please.”

Me: “Sure! That’ll be—”

Rude Kid: “My friend wants this one!” *shoves another game and gift card into my face*

Me: “Did you want to do this in the same transaction as this friend, or a different one?”

Rude Kid: “Different one!”

Me: “Then you’re going to have to wait.”

Rude Kid: *turns to friend* “Oh, hear that? You gotta wait.”

(I finish the transactions, and watch the kids mess around in the store.)

Rude Kid: “Yeah, so, we’ll have to come back tomorrow. I’ll be loaded up again by then; I’m getting $20!”

(The group starts to leave. Another customer comes in and approaches me.)

Customer: “Hey, I wanted to let you know those bikes are blocking the door.”

(I nod to the customer and turn to the kids who are heading for the door.)

Me: “Hey, just so you know; next time you can’t leave your bikes there.”

Rude Kid: “Not like it matters, since you’ll be shut down soon anyway.”

Me: “Next time, we won’t sell you anything if you leave those bikes there. Use the bike rack, or don’t come in again.”

(The rude kid finally shuts up and leaves quickly.)

(I greeted a customer in the ‘C’ section of the CD department.)

Me: “Can I help you find something?”

Customer: “Yeah, I’m trying to find a Red Hot Chili Peppers CD.”

Me: “Well, that would be under ‘R’. I’ll show you.”

Customer: “Oh. I was going to check under ‘H’ next.”

Me: “…”

(Our religious studies teacher had a broken rib at the start of the year, but wouldn’t tell us how she did it. She made a promise with me and a few friends that she would tell us during our last lesson of the year, thinking we would forget about it. We didn’t.)

Me: “Miss, do you remember a certain promise you made us earlier this year?”

Teacher: “…I do.”

Friend #1: “Well this is our last lesson!”

Me: “Please can you tell us what happened?”

Teacher: *sighs* “Alright, fine. But only at the end of class!”

(True to her word, by the end of class she waits with me and my friends until everyone else leaves.)

Teacher: “Okay, I’ll tell you. I—”

(She stops, and looks at the one male friend waiting with us.)

Teacher: “No! No! You can’t hear this! Please wait outside!”

(Reluctantly, he leaves.)

Teacher: “Okay. So… um… well… this is really quite embarrassing.”

Friend #2: “Did you have a fall, miss?”

Teacher: “Not quite… I was… um… I was being intimate with my husband, and I… um… I fell off; if you know what I mean…”