(I’ve been called to the registers, where a customer has been causing a scene because our cashier cannot find a book she ordered.)

Me: “Sorry for the inconvenience, ma’am. Did you receive a phone call that your order was in?”

Customer: “No! But I ordered it a month ago and the salesperson told me it would only take about five days. I knew that girl was an idiot!”

Cashier: “I searched all over and I can’t find a book under her name. There isn’t even a record of it in our system.”

Me: “Is it possible you ordered it at a different store? We wouldn’t—”

Customer: “NO! Stop asking me stupid questions and find my d***ed book!”

Me: “What was the title of the book? I can try to find your order that way.”

Customer: “It was [Title Of Book]. Honestly, I can’t believe how incompetent you people are. No wonder everyone shops online these days. I’d look into it myself, but I never give out my personal information. Anyway, can you believe it’s been A MONTH?! What kind of business are you running, anyway? Frankly, I don’t think I should have to pay for it.”

Me: “Well, someone did place an order for that book, but the name doesn’t match yours and it was only two days ago.”

Customer: “That’s it! That’s my order!”

Me: “But the name isn’t yours, and there’s a completely different home address and phone number.”

Customer: “Are you deaf?! I just told you I never give my personal information out!”

Me: “Wait, so if you used a different name and phone number, why didn’t you give us that information instead?”

Customer: “I made it up! You people are always asking for information. How am I supposed to remember what I told you?!”

Me: “You also said you ordered it a month ago.”

Customer: “Oh, am I supposed to keep track of how long it’s been?! You want me to do your WHOLE job for you?! I don’t care! I just want the book!”

Me: “You also called us incompetent. Repeatedly.”

Customer: “You shouldn’t live in the past so much. It’ll give you wrinkles!”

(I have a patron who has asked for our astrology books, but she has written “astronomy” in her notes. I ask her to clarify.)

Me: “Okay, so are you looking for astronomy or astrology?”

Patron: “Um…”

Me: “Science or mysticism?”

Patron: “Um…”

Me: “Are you citing NASA, or Madam Cleo?”

Patron: *blank stare*

Me: “Sorry; bad joke. Is Jupiter a god, or is it just another planet?”

Patron: “What?”

Me: “I’m just trying to figure out what you’re looking for here. Let’s try this: are you looking for star signs, or just stars?”

Patron: “I don’t understand what you’re asking me all this for. I just want astrolognomy!”

Me: “Let’s try one more time. Would the phrase, ‘What’s your sign’ be in any way relevant to what you’re looking for today?”

Patron: “Are you making fun of me?!”

Me: “I’m trying not to, really!”

(It’s Christmas time, and the parking lot has completely filled at the mall where I work. A shuttle is actually taking customers from a stadium across the highway where they are letting us overflow traffic. We’re busy at work when we hear a loud crash outside. An SUV has jumped the curb, onto the sidewalk and slammed into a willow reindeer in front of our window. We all rush out, to see if anyone was hurt, in time to see a woman getting out of the driver’s seat.)

Manager: “Are you alright?!”

Woman: “The only thing not alright here is your godd*** parking lot. There’s no f***ing parking anywhere!”

(Cursing up a storm, she yanks two kids out of the backseat and starts walking away.)

Manager: “Hey, you can’t leave your car here!”

Woman: “The h*** I can’t! There’s no other godd*** place to park!”

(Right after she leaves, security arrives. Our store’s door is partially blocked for an hour while they tow the car, and we fill out paperwork with her description and the police are called to assess the damages. Just before close, the woman and her kids, all laden with shopping bags, come storming into our store. She notices her car is missing and begins screaming and yelling. I run to telephone security.)

Manager: “Mall security towed your car because—”

Woman: “The h*** they did! You took the car!”

Manager: “I took it?”

Woman: “You and your little girlies over there must have pushed it somewhere! Where is it?!”

(She barges past the manager, through the store, and into the backroom. A moment later, we hear screams and something smash. I get off the phone with security and rush back to find she has smashed our employee coffee pot and is knocking over boxes. Seeing me, she shoves back onto the selling floor, and starts knocking over fixtures and mannequins. The manager has rushed all other customers to the fitting rooms for their safety. Grabbing her kids, the woman heads for the door and is literally tackled by mall security. She not only ends up arrested for property damage and assault charges, but they find shoplifted items in her bags. The clincher? She wrote in to corporate later, complaining about our customer service and demanding a free gift card!)

(The following happens when a well-dressed man comes in with bags full of sweets and gifts.)

Customer: “What’s your favorite flavor?!”

Me: “I like the lemon.”

Customer: “Then, give me that! A large! It’s for my wife!” *shakes with excitement*

Me: “I guess those presents and sweets are for her, too?”

Customer: *shakes with even more excitement* “YES! Yes they are!”

Me: “Here you go. That will be five dollars—”

Customer: *unable to contain himself* “MY WIFE IS PREGNANT! PREGNANT! I’m going to have a little son or daughter! HIGH FIVE!”

(The customer proceeds to high-five me over the register and throws a bill onto the table.)

Customer: “I’m going to be a dad! Keep the change!” *skips out of the store*

(The bill he threw? It was $50!)

(I am working the register. A mother and her teenage daughter are quietly arguing nearby. When they’re done, the teenager comes up to my register while the mother lingers a few feet away.)

Teenage Customer: “I need a pack of [cigarettes]!”

Me: “Certainly! May I see your ID, please?”

Teenage Customer: “I’m with her.” *points to her mother*

Me: “Okay, but the person who actually purchases the cigarettes has to be at least 18, no matter who they are with.”

Teenage Customer: “Oh for f***’s sake!”

(The teenager goes over to her mother and they quietly argue some more. The mother reluctantly comes up to my register.)

Customer’s Mother: “I need a pack of [cigarettes], please.”

Me: “Are you purchasing them for yourself?”

Customer’s Mother: “No, I don’t smoke. They’re for my daughter. She’s not old enough to buy them for herself.”

Teenage Customer: “Shut up, Mom!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t sell the cigarettes to either of you.”

Teenage Customer: “Why the f*** not?”

Me: “Well, you’re not old enough to buy them and your mother just admitted that she’s buying them for someone who is underage.”

Teenage Customer: “They’re for her. Right, Mom?!” *pinches her mom’s arm*

Customer’s Mother: *meekly* “Yes, they’re for me.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I’m still going to have to refuse the sale. Allowing someone to buy cigarettes for a minor is a bad as selling cigarettes to a minor. I could get into a lot of trouble.”

Teenage Customer: “Oh, f*** you! We’ll just get them someplace else!” *to her mom* “This is your fault!”

(Suddenly, a uniformed police officer appears out of nowhere. Apparently, he has witnessed the whole exchange from nearby.)

Police Officer: “Could I have a word with you, ladies?”

(I don’t know what happened to the mother and daughter, but I never saw them in the store again. The police officer reported the whole incident to my manager and I got a promotion!)