(The used bookstore where I work has a loading zone for customers that are selling books, which is clearly marked by the striped pavement and a sign that says ‘No Parking: Loading Zone.’ We don’t often have many issues with this, but on this particular day, a business in the same shopping center is having a convention, and the parking lot is packed.)

Customer: “I’m parked in your loading zone.”

Me: “Oh, are you selling books?”

Customer: “No, but the handicapped spot is full.”

Me: “That’s unfortunate; we do need to keep that space free for those customers who are selling books, though, so I’ll have to ask you to move your car.”

(The customer just walks off into the store, so that I have to follow her.)

Me: “Ma’am? Excuse me. I will need you to move your car. Our loading zone is just for those who are unloading books that they’re selling to our store. I can’t allow you to park there while you shop.”

Customer: “NO ONE BUT ME KNOWS HOW I FEEL!”

Me: *confused* “I’m not sure how that’s relevant, but I still need to ask you to move your vehicle.”

Customer: *points to her foot, which is in a walking cast, as if I am disputing that she is handicapped*

Me: “I’m sorry the handicapped spot was taken, but the loading zone is not a handicapped spot; it’s just for loading and unloading. If your vehicle is still parked there in ten minutes, I will have to call a towing company.”

(The customer storms off into the store.)

Customer #2: *who has seen me have to ask two other people not to park in the loading zone in the time that he’s been in the store* “What a day. ‘Only I know how I feel’?”

Me: *lifts my hands in an ‘I don’t know’ gesture before going to look up the number for the towing company*

(I work in a high end makeup retailer that has just recently gotten a credit card program. We have had a points-based rewards program for a long time, and our systems base pre-approval off of a customer’s rewards card’s history.)

Me: “Can I get your phone number for your rewards card?”

Customer: “It’s [phone number].”

(The screen comes up with the message that the customer has been approved for the highest level of the credit card, which is able to be used anywhere, not just in our stores.)

Me: “Congratulations! You’ve been pre-approved for an [Store Rewards Brand] credit card! With that card you’re going to earn extra points on the purchases you make in the store, and get 20% off of your purchase today. Are you interested in signing up?”

Customer: “Sure! Sounds great!”

Me: “Okay! Just go ahead and select one of the options on the screen in front of you.”

(The options include: “Yes, sign up”, “No, this isn’t me”, or “No, not at this time”. After the customer chooses “Yes, sign up,” I continue to read through the customer’s reward information in great detail, including the spelling of her first and last name, address, email, birthday, etc., as they have to be completely accurate to make sure that the approval goes all the way through.)

Me: “All right, on the screen in front of you it’s going to have you read over all of the information that we just went over, just to double verify that it is all correct and your information.”

(The customer clicks yes and it goes to the next screen, asking her to verify her social security number.)

Customer: “Oh, I don’t know my mom’s social security number… I might know it; I could try to guess. Or I could call her…”

Me: “You told me that that was your information, not your mom’s. We can’t open a credit card in her name without her here… Did you see the button that said, “No, this isn’t me”?”

Customer: “Yeah, but we just share the same rewards card, so I thought it would be fine.”

(I exited out of the credit pre-approval and finished her transaction as usual. I gave her the credit brochure and told her to give it to her mom. I’m interested to know what happened after her mom found out her daughter tried to sign her up for a credit card!)

(A serious-looking gentleman in his forties comes in to pick up a completed car from the shop. I had never interacted with him before, having been off the day he dropped the car off for repairs.)

Me: *looking at file* “It looks like you owe your deductible of $1,000 on the repair. I can process that now for you.”

Customer: “Are you sure?”

Me: “Yes, sir, your insurance advised us they will cover the amount due over the deductible, but I’ll need to collect that from you.”

Customer: *shrugs* “Well, you can try.”

(He doesn’t move to get any money out, and I freeze, as he still looks very serious and I can’t tell if he’s joking. I reply with the first thing that comes to mind.)

Me: “Well, then, I guess you can say you tried to pick up your car?”

(Thankfully the customer bursts out laughing and hands me a debit card.)

Customer: “Good response!”

(He paid his bill and went on his way as happy as could be.)

(I work at a restaurant where a server has to pay the bill if a customer walks out. One day a customer arrives with his friends. The group decides to split the bill between them. One young man writes down the name of a friend and leaves the restaurant. After contacting him on Facebook, he agrees to pay. After a full run around that takes four to five days, he ultimately does not. I am having an unpleasant day, and do not feel like losing out, even for a small amount. I contact the police. Afterwards, his mother arrives to tell me off.)

Mother: “Just who the f*** do you think you are calling the police? You made me look like an idiot over eight dollars. You should feel ashamed about making such a problem over this.”

Me: “Your son wrote down the name of his friend and walked out. That isn’t acceptable. In here, we have to pay if someone walks out, and I don’t like losing out. Short of that, what he did was illegal.”

Mother: *screaming* “How DARE you? My child wouldn’t do such a thing, and you harassed him over some imaginary crime and made a big problem out of seven dollars? It’s eight dollars. It means nothing!”

Me: “If it’s nothing, then would you kindly pay? I need to work, and you’re scaring the other patrons.”

Mother: *ear-splitting shrieks* “I will not. Quit making problems for good people. I don’t have the time for this.”

(The manager walks up.)

Manager: “Ma’am, I have to ask you to leave. You are causing a disturbance.”

Mother: “I’ll make as much noise as I want until this b**** stops complaining about her imaginary money!”

(Shortly after the police were contacted, and two officers dragged her out. She tried to come back twice, but she was informed if she showed up again she would be detained.)

(This woman is at least in her mid-twenties.)

Customer: “Are there bears here?”

Coworker: “Yes, black bears.”

Customer: “Will they eat our food?”

Coworker: “Not if you leave it in your car overnight.”

Customer: “I like to sleep with candy close to me. Is that okay?”