(I’m about to ring a customer up. I’m supposed to ask if they have our rewards card, and if they say no, I offer them to sign up for it, as it’s free of charge and relatively quick to do.)

Me: “Good evening, ma’am. Do you have a rewards card?”

Customer: “No. What’s the benefit of it?”

Me: “The rewards card allows you to get the sale prices of whatever’s on sale for the week, and with certain sale items and over the counter medications. You build up rewards points, which you can use to save money later on.”

Customer: “Okay. Do I need anything for it?”

Me: “All we need is some basic info, just for identification purposes. Would you like to sign up? It’s free of charge.”

Customer: *says nothing, fumbles around her purse*

Me: “Ma’am? Would you like to sign up for the card?”

(The customer takes out her credit card and swipes it, paying for the purchase.)

Me: “Okay.”

(I hand her the receipt and her bags.)

Me: “Have a good night.”

Customer: “So, do I get the rewards now?”

Me: *screaming internally*

(I am about 12 years old. I am on vacation with my family. There is no pool at the hotel in which we are staying, but the hotel staff have told us that they have a deal with the health club next door, and guests could use their pool. While my dad is in a work meeting, my mom takes my 10- and 6-year-old brothers and I to swim in the health club pool.)

Mom: “Hello! We’re here from [hotel] to use the pool!”

Receptionist: “You can’t use the pool.”

Mom: “Excuse me? Over at [hotel], they told me that we were allowed to come over here and use the pool!”

Receptionist: “Well they were wrong. Guests can only use the pool on weekends, and even then, we don’t allow children.”

Mom: “Well they told us we could use the pool, so would you mind checking with someone else?”

Receptionist: “Ugh. I don’t need to check with anyone else! You aren’t allowed to use the pool.”

Mom: “Well, we came to use the pool, so we’re going to use the pool! Come on, kids!”

(At this, my mom, who has my 6-year-old brother by the wrist, starts MARCHING towards where she assumes the pool is. My 10-year-old brother and I just stand there in shock.)

Mom: “Where is the pool?!”

Receptionist: “You CAN’T use the pool!”

(My mom has turned around, and notices that my brother and I aren’t following her.)

Mom: *to us* “What are you doing?! Come ON!”

(My brother and I just stand there, shaking our heads. Eventually realizing we weren’t going to follow her willingly, she charges toward us and we run out the door. Eventually, we go to the nearby mall instead, and she yells at us the whole way.)

Mom: “Why didn’t you come with me?! ‘Children, obey your parents!’ It’s in the Bible!”

Me: “Yes, but you were telling us to do something wrong! We weren’t gonna follow you when you were telling us to do something against the rules!”

Mom: “But she was wrong, and very rude about it!”

Me: “But she was in charge, and we still have to listen to her, until someone else tells her she’s wrong!”

10-Year-Old Brother: “Yeah! We weren’t gonna follow you, because we don’t wanna go to Hell like bad people!”

6-Year-Old-Brother: “At least you guys had a choice! She was gonna drag me down with her whether I liked it or not!”

(At this, we all start laughing, including my mom. My mom is still not the best customer, but at least she’s never done anything like this since!)

Customer: “Can I get a chicken salad sandwich on wheat?”

Me: “Sure, big or small?”

Customer: “Wheat.”

Me: “Big or small?”

Customer: “WHEAT!”

Me: “Big or small—”

Customer: “WHEAT!”

Me: *quickly and loudly* “Size, what size, big or small—”

Customer: “WHEAT! Wait, what are you asking me?”

Me: “Big. Or. Small. Size?”

Customer: “Oh, just a smaller one. Sorry, I thought you were asking me wheat or white!”

Customer: “How do I get to ‘Natchy-toe-chess?'”

Me: “It’s pronounced ‘Nak-a-tesh,’ and it’s a straight shot from here.”

Customer: “Oh, wow. I was way off, wasn’t I?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am.”

Customer: “What about that ‘Provencial’ place I saw on a sign?”

Me: “It’s ‘Prahv-en-saw.'”

Customer: “Wow. Then I suppose the name of this town isn’t ‘Robe-line?'”

Me: “No, ma’am, it’s ‘Ro-buh-lean.'”

Customer: “Next year I’m going on vacation in Texas. None of the places there have such weird names!”

(I am a female officer-instructor, in line at the on-base convenience store. I am in my civilian clothes. Behind me are two soldiers in uniform that I recognize as new students in my latest class.)

Soldier #1: “Man, why do they let civs shop here?”

Soldier #2: “I don’t know why they even let civilians on base, you know? Unless they’re clerks or some s***; gotta have someone run the till.”

Cashier: *winks at me* “So, lieutenant, how’s the instructor life treating you?”

Me: “Oh, same old.”

(I look back at the two soldiers with my best ‘I will make you do push-ups until you throw up’ death glare.)

Me: “…some of my new students are going to take a lot of work.”

(Both soldiers turn pale and run out. The clerk laughs so hard she starts wheezing.)