(My friend told me this story the other day. We are both clerks at a local discount grocery store. We have new owners, who have recently started playing music other than ’70s Top 40 and early 2000s soft pop on the store intercom.)

Customer: “Could you have that music turned off? It’s the devil’s music. I know because I’m enlightened.”

(The music in question was something by Van Halen. My friend was confused, and looked at the customer, an older woman, incredulously.)

Worker: “Can I direct you to my—”

Customer: “And judging you by your response, you’re not enlightened. Bye.”

Me: “Thank you for calling [Store]. [My Name] speaking. How can I help you?”

Lady: “I need a thermostat.”

Me: “Okay. What’s it for?”

Lady: “It’s for my car.”

Me: “Okay, but what is it going in?”

Lady: “It’s going in my car!”

(Our store sells “oil change specials” where if you buy five quarts of oil and filter in one transaction it will be reduced in price, in this case for less than what the oil cost alone.)

Customer: “I need oil for a [year of vehicle] [size of engine].”

(Assuming it is for the massive truck taking up two parking slots that is the correct vintage, I inform the customer that it takes five quarts of 5w-30 oil. The customer, by now back where the oil is, has picked out the brand of choice and is starting back towards the front.)

Me: “That oil is currently on special for $18.99 with a filter. Would you like to add one to your purchase?”

Customer: “No, I’ll get that later.”

(I inform him that it would be less expensive to buy them together today rather than on separate occasions… He still is not getting it and starts to show signs of frustration and annoyance. So I hold my tongue and check him out accordingly to his request.)

Me: “That’ll be $23.01 sir.”

Customer: “What?! But the sign says $18.99. Did taxes jump?!”

(I try to inform him again and decide it is best to just ring him out for the filter he needs and re-subtotal it.)

Me: “Okay, that’ll be $20.30.”

Customer: “Now that’s more like it.”

(I finish transaction and try to hand him the filter.)

Customer: “I don’t need that yet.” *grabs jug and leaves without receipt or filter*

(I work six hour day shifts on summer weekdays. As long as everything is clean and full, we’re allowed to read a book. I’m reading quietly, but set my book aside as the lone male customer approaches. I take his order, and we’re waiting for his card to go through when this happens.)

Customer: *gestures to book, the cover of which is hidden* “So, what trashy romance novel are we reading today? Twilight? Fifty Shades of Grey?”

Me: *silently holds up the book so he can see the title, which is “Murder on the Orient Express” by Agatha Christie*

Customer: “Oh… That’s a classic.”

Me: “Yes, sir. Now let me get you your ice cream.”

(Being pretentious about books is obnoxious. If he hadn’t been a customer I would have said something, but I could tell he was embarrassed when he left.)

(I work in a restaurant with a gourmet pizza menu. The pizza menu is an 8.5×11 sheet of paper, in a fairly small font, front and back. Customers can choose a pizza from the menu, or they can order their own custom pies. I am lucky enough to answer the phone one day…)

Caller: “Hi, what kind of pizza do you have?”

Me: “Our pizza crust is made from locally grown wheat flour and we have an imported gas burning oven. We’ve got a variety of toppings and combinations.”

Caller: “Okay, I need to know what the options are.”

Me: “Not a problem. Our full menu is available online at [Website URL]. ”

Caller: “I really don’t want to look online.”

Me: “Well, sir, there are quite a few options on our menu. If you look at the website—”

Caller: “Can’t you just tell me?”

Me: “You want me to read you the menu over the phone?”

Caller: “Yes.”

(I read the entire pizza menu. Each pizza has the type of sauce, cheese, and toppings. This takes probably five minutes, which is a crazy long time when you work in a restaurant.)

Caller: “Okay.”

Me: “So, do you know which one you’d like?”

Caller: “Those all sound way too complicated. Can I just get a pepperoni pizza, please?”

Me: “Yep…”