(I am working as a cashier. A customer produces a coupon for eight or more rolls of bath tissue. He then hands me a package of four “Mega Rolls,” which say, “4 Mega Rolls = 8 normal rolls!”)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but you don’t have enough product for this coupon to work. I apologize, but if you want and go grab another one of these—” *I gesture to the bath tissue* “—then the coupon will work just fine.”

Customer: “But it says that this counts as eight!”

Me: “Yes, sir, it does, but there are only four rolls in the package and that is what it will count as: four rolls, only. You will have to get another package of four rolls or more for you to use this coupon.”

Customer: “BUT IT SAYS EIGHT ROLLS! Get your manager or someone who is good at math, because it is clear you are too stupid to understand simple math!”

(I turn around and happily call out to my manager, who happens to HATE rude and stupid customers who don’t read the fine print. She comes over to see what the problem is and I explain the issue.)

Manager: “I’m sorry sir, but you will need to get at least another one of these packages to use this coupon. The coupon is stating the number of physical bath tissue rolls inside the package, not how many rolls it will replace when you use them. Do you have any other inquiries?”

Customer: “But it says EIGHT rolls, so I have enough to use this coupon.” *throws up hands and almost shouts* “Geez, do they even hire competent people anymore?! IT SAYS EIGHT, SO I HAVE EIGHT!”

(My manager just walks away, knowing that I can take care of it.)

Me: “Sir, it could say it that the four rolls equal eight, twelve, twenty-four, or three million rolls; that won’t change the fact that you only have four physical rolls. You must get another four rolls to make this work.”

(I pick up the package and point out the four rolls inside the package.)

Customer: “But it says—”

Me: *interrupting* “Sir, can you tell me how many physical rolls are in this package?”

Customer: “Uh…”

Me: “How many physical rolls?“

(He stares at me for about 30 seconds and then says:)

Customer: “Eight.”

(This conversation has made me close down my lane, so no one will have to wait, and this response makes me want to slap this man so, so hard. I’ve even had a slight muscle spasm in my right hand. This part of the conversation repeats for about another two minutes:)

Me: “Sir, if you see eight physical rolls, you might need stronger glasses. To help you a bit, there are only four rolls!“

Customer: “Fine, if you are to stick to telling me this won’t work without another of those stupid packages, I guess I don’t need any of my stuff.”

Me: “Okay! I will take all of these items back. Have a wonderful day, sir.”

(The manager returned with a donut from the bakery and wordlessly handed it to me, then took the stuff from my belt and walked away.)

(I am working at the till near the end of the day. An older man with a stern expression comes to the counter, looks at the baked goods display, and shrugs dramatically.)

Me: “What can I get you?”

Customer: “Well, I was going to get a dozen donuts, but there’s a fly in your display.”

(I look and see that a fly is flying around the donuts.)

Me: “Oh, I’m so sorry about that. I’ll have the bakers remake that tray. Is there anything else I can get you?”

Customer: “You shouldn’t be letting flies into this place at all!”

Me: “I’m sorry again, sir. We try to keep the drive-thru windows closed when there aren’t any cars, and the doors are only open when customers walk in, but I guess one or two flies manage to sneak by every once in a while.”

Customer: “Your manager should be making sure flies don’t get in.”

(At this point one of my older coworkers is walking by behind me, and the customer starts yelling at her.)

Customer: “Hey! Are you the manager of this place? You’ve got to keep these g**d*** flies out of here!”

Me: “Sir, she’s not the manager. I can go get the manager for you, but I really don’t know what you expect her to do about it.”

Customer: “I’ve heard of a fly trap you can put in the doors that sucks them up as they come in.”

Me: “A fly sucker?”

Customer: *dead serious* “Yes. This restaurant should invest in one.”

(He shakes his head and wags his finger at me before turning and leaving.)

Coworker: “Let’s add it to the list of things that need to fixed around here.”

(I manage an auto shop, which is basically a quick lube. A customer I’ve never had before comes in for an oil change. All goes well until I give him the bill.)

Customer: “Why did you change the oil filter?”

Me: “We always change the oil filter when we do oil changes.”

Customer: “Mine doesn’t need it.”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Customer: “My [Car Brand] has a special filter which never needs changing; you shouldn’t have changed it. It just cost me extra money.”

Me: *pause* “I’ve never heard of an oil filter which doesn’t need changing. The oil filter takes impurities out of the oil so they don’t harm the engine. If you don’t change the filter, it’s eventually going to get clogged, and you won’t have good oil flow. Plus, it can’t do its job removing impurities from the oil. If you don’t change the filter, it’s almost as bad as not changing the oil.”

Customer: “Well, when I had my oil changed at [less than reputable Competitor], they told me that I didn’t need a filter because [Car Brand] uses a special lifetime oil filter which never needs changing.”

Me: “Honestly, this is the first I’ve ever heard of a special lifetime oil filter. The filter I replaced was a standard [Filter Brand] filter, and I replaced it with filters designed for your vehicle. See? Look.” *I show him the filter application book* “Right here, it has your vehicle listed and the number of the filter I put in, which this book says is the proper replacement filter. If it had a special lifetime filter, it wouldn’t have a number, and would likely have, ‘NS,’ listed there for, ‘Not Serviceable.’ If your car didn’t require a new filter every time, they wouldn’t make filters for it.”

Customer: “I still think it was a waste, and you’re just trying to get money out of me. I’m going to go ahead and pay for it, but I’m not satisfied.”

(Note: The customer’s cost of the filter is around $5.)

Me: “I can assure you that I’m not trying to rip you off, and you should always replace your oil filter. But just in case [Car Brand] came out with something new that I’m not aware of, I’m going to do some research and find out if they do, indeed, have a special new oil filter. The one I took out looked the same as the one I installed.”

(The customer paid and left, and I searched the Internet for a special [Car Brand] lifetime oil filter. Finding nothing, I called the nearest [Car Brand] dealer’s service department and explained the situation to the manager. He assured me that [Car Brand] oil filters need to be replaced just like any other vehicle, and they don’t have a special lifetime oil filter. Turns out the other auto shop which changed his oil previously didn’t have that particular filter in stock, so they lied to him about it needing to be changed, and he believed them instead of me. What my dad always says is true: a dishonest auto shop will make trouble for all the honest ones around it.)

(I am scanning two small items for an elderly man.)

Me: “Your total is £9.98, sir.”

Elderly Man: “Not a problem.”

(He gets £10 out of his wallet and hands it to me. I hand him his change and his receipt, which shows the price of each item, as well as the total.)

Me: “Your change today is two pence, and here’s your receipt. Enjoy the rest of your day!”

Elderly Man: *stares blankly at me, but doesn’t move*

Me: “Is there something else I can help you with, sir?”

Elderly Man: “Why did you give me two pence?”

Me: “That was your change. Your total was £9.98 and you gave me £10.”

Elderly Man: “No!”

Me: “No? It’s printed right there on the receipt in your hand. See? The [item] was £4.99, and your bought two.”

Elderly Man: “These [items] are too expensive! I won’t pay for them!”

Me: “Um… I’m sorry you feel that way, sir. But you did pay for them, and now you have your change.”

Elderly Man: “No! Look at these price tags!” *shows me one item’s tag, which is ever so slightly smudged, but is still very much readable as £4.99* “It looks like £1.99! I was under the impression that I was getting a good deal! They should be £1.99!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. They’re not £1.99. The correct total came up twice on the screen when I scanned the items, I told you your total, and it’s correctly printed on the receipt.”

Elderly Man: *glares at me, still unmoving*

Me: *realising I’m not going to win this one* “I can process a refund if you’d like.”

Elderly Man: “Yes, you’d better! They should be £1.99! You need to fix your price tags, every last one of them!”

(He snatched his change and stormed off toward a sweet-looking, elderly woman I hadn’t noticed before, presumably his wife. Apparently the items were for her, and he told her that she couldn’t have them because I tried to overcharge him. She left, looking incredibly disappointed. I’m sorry, lady. I tried!)

(I’m taking an order from a table that I’m serving.)

Customer: “I’ll have the beef dinner.”

Me: “All right, would you like the 7-ounce or the 10.5-ounce dinner?”

Customer: “What’s the difference?”

Me: “The 10.5-ounce is larger than the 7-ounce.”

Customer: “But, by how much?”

Me: “Um… 3.5 ounces.”

Customer: “But, how much bigger is it?”

Me: *trying to figure out how else to explain it* “It’s about a half larger.”

Customer: “But, is it, like, a really big portion?”

Me: *at this point I have no idea how else to explain it* “Yes, the 10.5-ounce is a sizeable meal.”

(She ended up eventually getting the 7-ounce.)