(I’m working the service desk when a guy comes up with a sheet from a registry.)

Customer: “This is my daughter’s registry. We tried to go online to delete this item –” *points to an item* “– but it won’t let us. Can you do that for me?”

Me: “Unfortunately not. She would have to go in and do it herself. And the item has been purchased?”

Customer: “Yeah, we bought it.” *sighs in frustration* “There’s a flaw in the system!”

Me: “Did you have the cashier scan this when you purchased it?”

Customer: “Well, we purchased it at a different store.”

Me: “Did you purchase it at a different location or did you get it at a different store altogether?”

Customer: “A different store altogether. So you’re saying you won’t take it off? This is a flaw in the system.”

Me: “Sir… we cannot take it off if you didn’t purchase it at our store. We cannot do anything with it on our end. We have NO access to people’s accounts. If you purchase it in our store or online, we can fix it then.”

Customer: “Why not? So if I buy it here, take it off, and return it, will that take it off the registry? Then no one else can buy it for her.”

Me: “No, because once you return it, it returns back to the registry.”

Customer: “Well, that’s a flaw they should fix. I get that they want to keep the business in the store, but I bought it; I should be able to take it off the registry!”

Me: *fed up after having a long night* “It’s. Not. A. Flaw. We can’t have it so anyone can go in and change things. If that were true, then things could be taken off EVEN IF THEY WEREN’T PURCHASED!”

(The man then walks out, still mumbling about how there’s a flaw in our registry system. Sadly, this was not the first time someone has asked me to take something off a registry that they did not buy in our store.)

(I work in a charity shop which supports elderly people. A customer puts two books on the counter.)

Customer: “I want to exchange this for this.”

(I look at the books and assume she’s had a moment.)

Me: “Oh, this has an [Animal Charity] price ticket on, not [My Shop].”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “I’m afraid I can’t exchange it, because you didn’t get it from here.”

Customer: “You mean I have to take it all the way back there?”

Me: “I’m afraid so, because we’re not affiliated with them.”

(The customer sighs sadly and buys her book, which cost 99p. She then leaves on the epic trek to the Animal Charity shop, located five shops down from us.)

(I have an early flight, and have been up since 5 am. Needless to say, I’m pretty out of it. After having some issues checking in, I finally ask for help.)

Me: “Excuse me, but this thing isn’t letting me check a bag.”

Employee: *gives me an odd look* “Well, that machine is a carry-on only one… It says so across the top.”

Me: *looking down immediately, where it says in bold letters “CARRY-ON ONLY”; needless to say, I turn bright red* “Oh, my god, I did not see that. I’m so stupid…”

Employee: *laughs* “That’s all right. Let me check your bag.” *types on the computer* “All right, I need your ID and a credit card.”

Me: “Sure.” *I hand both over*

Employee: *leaves for a moment before coming back, her head down and a self-deprecating smile on her face* “And I just tried to charge you for a free bag…”

Me: *laughs* “Well, I tried to check a bag on a carry-on only machine, so I think we’re even!”

(She was very helpful and nice for the rest of the exchange, and I left for my flight in a much better mood than when I arrived.)

(I am called over by an employee handling an order. The customer has already returned two items because the were the wrong color. We only had one item in the correct color in stock, so we are ordering the second item from another store. Apparently, my employee and the customer have been discussing the order for a while and the customer has convinced my employee that the item we are ordering should be free.)

Me: “Ma’am, we’ve already returned this item to your card, and we will only be giving you this new item at the same price. So you aren’t really paying for another one; it’s just an extended exchange.”

Customer: “I don’t understand why I have to pay for it again. I bought these in [Other City] and now I just want to get the other color.”

Me: *thinking she might not have been paying very close attention* “We have to charge you for this new one because you’ve been given a credit on your [Store] card for the one that was the wrong color. When they ship it, they will charge you the same amount and you won’t owe anything.”

Customer: “No, I already paid for it. I paid for it in [Other City].”

Me: “Yes, and you returned it here. See, you have a credit on your account.”

Customer: “Ugh, I just wish I had the others back. I could just drive to [Other Store which is three hours away], and get the right colors there.”

Me: “Certainly, ma’am. Just a moment.”

(I immediately voided the return of her items and the sale of the new one, gave her the old receipt and one that proved her items had not been returned, and sent her on her way. She looked happy, if not a little confused on her way out.)

(My husband and I are in line to order behind this older redneck-type man with a sour attitude. For the most part, I’m paying no attention, because I’m sharing a work-related conversation with hubby, though it’s easy to see that the conversation is tense. Suddenly, the older guy explodes on the young, Hispanic cashier.)

Customer: “D*** it! I just want to order a d*** burger. Is that so f***ing hard to do?”

Cashier: “Sir, I just want to know if you want curly fries or regular fries.”

Customer: “I don’t speak wetback, boy! You need to learn American.”

Cashier: *visibly upset now* “I asked if you want curly fries or regular fries.”

Customer: “Can’t understand a f***ing thing. Need to fire all of your a**es and hire some d*** Americans.”

Me: “Wait, what seems to be the problem here?”

Customer: “I can’t understand the d*** wetback behind the counter. He’s got a f***ing thick accent.”

(This is a complete lie; the kid has no accent at all. We’ve understood every word that he has said clearly.)

Me: “Well, maybe I can help. I know a little Spanish.” *I turn to the cashier, and in perfect English, ask:* “What was the order number and what comes with it?”

Cashier: “He ordered a number eight. It comes with mayo, mustard, and ketchup. I wanted to know if he wanted curly fries or regular with it.”

Me: *turns to the older customer and as loud and slow as I can* “HE WANTS TO KNOW IF YOU WANT CURLY FRIES OR REGULAR FRIES!”

Customer: “What the f***?! Why are you f***ing yelling at me?!”

Me: “Oh, I thought you were deaf. So, is it a stupidity problem, then? Or just racism?”

(He got red in the face and stormed out, still muttering about how Mexicans were taking over Texas. The cashier and his fellow workers were laughing the whole way. I got a free small shake out of it, but I’d have done it with or without the shake.)