(The male in this story is a regular customer who has become a really good friend. Working the door at a Gentlemen’s Club, I have to use a fake name at work. When at work, the regular customer refuses to call me by my fake name, which is ‘Jessica.’)

Regular: “Sandy! How’s Monday going?”

Me: “Okay, slow, but the name’s not Sandy. That’s not even my real name. You know that.”

Regular: “I know. You’re just… not a Jessica. I can’t call you Jessica.”

Me: “What exactly makes me ‘not a Jessica’?”

Regular: *pauses* “Well, because I know another Jessica, and she’s really hot.”

Me: “…”

Regular: “I gotta go study. See you later!”

Club Manager: *over radio* “Did he… did he really just say that?”

(It is the middle of summer with temperatures climbing into the triple digits.)

Me: “Hi! Welcome to [Coffee Shop]. What can I get started for you today?”

Customer: “One large chai tea latte.”

Me: “Alright, no problem. Would you like that hot or iced today?”

(The customer stares at me.)

Customer: “Chai tea latte.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. Iced or hot?”

Customer: “Latte!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. The chai tea latte comes iced or hot, and—”

Customer: “Christ! Latte means hot! Do they teach you nothing?! Just give me my chai latte!”

(I work at a big chain retail store that also has a grocery section. On this day, my store has a power outage that lasts several hours. There’s a generator that keeps lights, necessary systems, and two registers going, but it’s not strong enough to power the refrigerated/frozen section. We block off those aisles and announce over the PA that we will not be able to sell any cold foods. I see a customer ducking the cordon and opening a refrigerator door.)

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am? Because of the power outage, these aisles are closed. We can’t guarantee the cold food is safe to eat anymore.”

Customer: “Yeah, I heard, but I just need some eggs.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we can’t sell those. There’s a [Grocery Store] across the street if you need.”

Customer: “Why would I go there? I’ve already got these. Hey, what the h***? These eggs are all warm!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, because of the power outage. The refrigerators haven’t been working, so all the cold food has thawed. We can’t sell it.”

(The customer drops the egg carton on the floor.)

Customer: “Then why the h*** are they still on the shelf? What kind of sick store would try to sell bad food to people?”

Me: “…that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, ma’am. We CAN’T sell it. That’s why these aisles are blocked with the ropes and signs saying ‘Do Not Enter.'”

Customer: “That’s it. I’ve had enough of your stupid policies! I’m taking my business to [grocery store across the street]!”

(I am delivering oxygen to a new patient at their home. It is mid-summer and I am wearing a short sleeve work shirt. I have tattoos visible on both arms and hands as well as the front of my neck. I also have three piercings in each earlobe as well as my septum and three in my lower lip. There are all currently being filled by clear spacers. I also have shoulder-length hair, a long full beard, stand 6’4″, and am clearly a biker. Generally, patients are a little timid at first when they see me but once they speak to me they are generally more at ease with my appearance and demeanor.)

Me: “Will that be it for you today, ma’am?”

Woman: “Why don’t you have any religious tattoos?”

Me: “Pardon me, ma’am?”

Woman: “Why don’t you have any religious tattoos like the saints or scriptures?”

Me: “Well, I suppose because I don’t actively practice any religion, ma’am.”

Woman: “Those things might be acceptable if they were religious.”

Me: “I’ll agree to disagree, ma’am, but then I have to ask, why don’t you have any religious tattoos?”

Woman: “Because the bible says to alter your body’s appearance is a sin! Leviticus says it.”

Me: “I am somewhat familiar with the passages you are referring to, but if you believe that, then why would you ask why I don’t have any religious tattoos, when the bible says that tattoos are a sin?”

Woman: “Well, you are obviously going to go to Hell for your sins, but I thought if you had some scripture instead of those other things you might be forgiven and get to walk with Jesus.”

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(The bakery closes at two pm every Sunday. I am out on the patio about an hour after closing, sweeping and stacking furniture. A middle-aged customer and her elderly mother approach.)

Daughter: “Oh, hi! We’d like to get some coffee, please.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, but the coffee’s all gone now. We’re closed.”

Daughter: “You are?”

Me: “Yes. I’m afraid we close at two on Sundays.”

Mother: “Oh, you bad girl!”

(The customer proceeds to hit me with her rolled up newspaper, leaving me speechless!)