(I am a part time clerk assisting my manager on register during the morning rush. The next customer in line is a middle aged woman and her son who looks to be around eight.)

Me: “Good morning. Is this all for you?”

Boy: *yelling loudly* “GOOD MORNING, SIR. YOU’RE DOING A WONDERFUL JOB!”

Me: “Well, thank you.”

Boy: “SAY WHAT DID YOU SAY?”

Me: “Um… thank you?”

Boy: “SAY WHAT DID YOU SAY?”

Me: *realizing the kid isn’t asking for me to repeat myself but giving a command* “Okay, what did you say?”

Boy: *even louder* “GOOD MORNING, SIR. YOU’RE DOING A WONDERFUL JOB!”

(My manager and several of the customers are looking our way, obviously annoyed with the boy. I tell the customer her total and she goes to pay.)

Boy: “ARE YOU EVER GOING TO GET A REAL CAREER OR ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE TRASH OUT ALL YOUR LIFE?”

(I blink and am at a total loss for words. Several other customers’ jaws drop and my manager is trying to keep from laughing.)

Customer: “Oh, my goodness, I am so sorry! I can’t believe…”

Boy: “GOOD MORNING, SIR. YOU’RE DOING A WONDERFUL JOB!”

Guest: “My room is filthy! I demand a free night! This is ridiculous! Give me your corporate number!”

Me: “I’m so sorry, ma’am. Give me your room number and I’ll sort this out!”

Guest: “209.”

Me: “Ma’am, it says you’ve been in this room three days. We have a housekeeper going to your room to clean it today. They’ll be there at 9 am. We have it listed that your room had a do not disturb sign for the last three days. Please remove it from your card slot and your room will be cleaned.”

Guest: “Well how the f*** was I supposed to know they wouldn’t come if that was there? You should tell people that! Poor service! Get to my room NOW and do your job! Idiots!”

Me: “…yes, ma’am.”

(She did this two more times in her two week stay, never once taking the do-not-disturb sign of her door.)

(I am a customer at a local coffee shop. There are several people in line behind me, so I order and pay and then step out of the way while the barista makes my drink.)

Barista: “One [drink I ordered]!”

(I didn’t think my drink would be ready so quickly given how busy they are, but nobody else steps forward, so I take it.)

Me: “Thanks!”

Angry Lady: “What the h***? That’s my coffee!” *to the barista* “This woman just stole my f****** coffee!”

Me: “Oh, my gosh, was this yours?”

Angry Lady: “Of course it’s f****** mine! F*** you! What gives you the right to take my coffee?”

Me: “I’m so sorry. I ordered the same thing, and nobody stepped up to take it so I thought it was mine.”

Angry Lady: “F*** you! You’re just a broke [racial slur] loitering outside a coffee shop trying to steal other people’s food! You should be ashamed of yourself!”

Barista: “Actually, ma’am, this lady ordered and paid for the same drink as you. She has already apologised for her mistake, and if you just wait a moment, I’m making her drink now and you can take that one.”

Me: “I’m really sorry. I’d give this back but I already took a sip. If you take my drink we’ll both have what we ordered.”

Angry Lady: “I don’t want your f****** coffee. I want mine!”

Barista: “Ma’am, they are exactly the same, and please stop cursing. There are children here.”

Angry Lady: “Go f*** yourself!”

(She grabs the coffee out of my hand, flings it on the ground at my feet, throws the empty cup at the barista, and then storms off without a drink.)

Barista: *shrugs* “Shame she chucked that coffee on the ground. I think she needs it!”

(She finished making my drink. The angry lady was nowhere to be seen, so I took it and left. It was the best coffee I’d had all week!)

(I work as a sales associate at a large chain bath product store that caters mostly to women. I am stationed at the front of the store, greeting customers and handing out shopping bags. A huge, tough-looking man walks into the store and looks around awkwardly. He looks like a motorcycle gang member from a movie: tattoos, leather, and a bandanna.)

Me: “Hi! Welcome to [Store]. I’m [Name]. Can I help you find anything today?”

Customer: *shifts uncomfortably* “Yeah, I need lotion and shower gel.”

(I knew he felt as out of place as he looked so rather than just pointing, I walk him over to the largest display of bath products.)

Me: “Are you shopping for someone special?”

Customer: “Yeah. Me.”

(He was pointedly not making eye contact with me so I allowed myself a split-second look of shock.)

Customer: *mutters* “My girlfriend likes it when I smell like a peach.”

(Needless to say, I walked around the entire store with him. I even introduced him to some new fruity fragrances!)

(I’m a customer waiting in line at a local convenience store. A man and a woman walk in, grab drinks out of the cooler and head for the register to pay. Suddenly, the woman throws the drink on the ground.)

Woman: “Oh, h*** no! I don’t buy nothing from no towelhead, Muslim terrorists!”

(The man behind the register, who is Middle Eastern, says nothing.)

Woman: “You know what? F*** this place. I’m going to [Store across the street] and buy my stuff from Americans!”

(Both of them storm out the door and head across the street. I walk up to the counter.)

Me: “Well, that was interesting.”

Clerk: “They’re not going to like it any better over there.”

Me: “No?”

Clerk: *laughing* “My brother owns that store!”