(I am a cashier at a large chain hobby store. It is truck day, and as we are not very busy at the moment, I am the only person on a register while the backup cashiers are helping to put out the impulse items stock. I am just finishing up with a customer when two other people come and get in line. On truck days, we only call up backup cashiers if there are more than two people in line, or if a person gets in line with a large number of items. I can see that each of these customers only has a small basket and neither basket is even remotely close to being full so I choose to not bother calling backup. I hand the receipt to the customer I am now done with and get started ringing in the next customer’s items. I’m attempting to ask the customer I’m working with the standard questions we ask customers.)

Me: “How are you? Did you find everything you need?”

(But before I can even get finished with the first question, the next customer in line interrupts me:)

Impatient Customer: “Isn’t there anyone you can call to help you check people out so we don’t have to wait so long?”

(Only about thirty seconds have passed since she got into my line, so I’m caught a little off guard for a minute. The customer I am with now sort of glances behind her before smirking and shaking her head slightly in disbelief.)

Me: *looking at the five items the lady in front of her has, that I’m now done ringing in, and already bagging* “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m the only available cashier at the moment. Our truck is here at the moment so a lot of our staff is tied up trying to make sure everything gets put onto the floor in a timely manner.”

(It irritates me that I have not been able to really interact with my current customer other than barely managing to get out part of our standard greeting, as at this point I’m just waiting for her to pay. I hear the impatient customer sigh several times. I am starting to notice several other customers hovering around the front area, browsing the impulse items, but no one has gotten in line yet. I finally finish up with the customer I was working with and get started on Ms. Impatient; she has only two items. As I’m checking out the impatient woman, three people come up and get in my line, one right after the other, and as she is handing me her money, another two people come up to get in my line. I finish out the transaction, and as I’m handing Ms. Impatient her receipt and change, I decide to pick up my phone and proceed to call for cashier backup over the intercom, before saying one last thing to the customer.)

Me: “Have a nice day today, ma’am, and thank you for shopping at [Store].”

(She just huffed and walked out without saying anything. Her total time in line was less than three minutes, and if she hadn’t been so rude and disruptive to my other customers, I would not have been so snarky with her.)

(I work in a bookstore, and I swear people think people who work in said stores are like Google. Here is one example.)

Me: *answering the phone* “Thank you for calling [Store]; how can I help you?”

Customer: “Hi, I’m looking for a book by an author.”

Me: “Who is the author?”

Customer: “I don’t know. She’s from Alaska. Can you tell me?”

Me: “No… Uh, what books has she written?”

Customer: “I don’t remember.”

Me: “Um, is there anything else you can tell me?”

Customer: “She’s from Alaska. Don’t you know her?”

Me: *bangs head on desk*

(I work for a first-tier supplier for a major automotive manufacturing plant. I was born in Korea and immigrated to America when I was eight years old, so I can speak Korean and English. As my parents are both Korean, I look unmistakably Asian. After pulling a long shift, I am exhausted. I stop by a fast food place to eat. After I am done with my meal, I stand in the parking lot to smoke before driving home. I notice two ladies coming out of the store with a to-go order. They walk right past me. Then, one of the ladies stops and turns to me while the other lady opens her car door.)

Lady #1: “Excuse me… Do you work at [My Company]?”

(I must look confused as to how she knows where I work, but then I realize that I am still wearing my company shirt with the name on it. She repeats the question.)

Lady #1: *pointing at my shirt* “Do you work at [My Company]?”

(I don’t mean to be rude but I am too tired, and my response comes in the form of me shrugging my shoulders. The lady pauses for a second.)

Lady #1: “What’s the average pay for working there?”

(Of course, this depends on the position, experience, and station that you work… but I don’t feel like explaining all that so, once again, bested by my compounding lethargy, my answer is a shoulder shrug for “it depends” or “I don’t know.” The lady stares at me for a second.)

Lady #1: “Are you guys hiring right now?”

(Again, this depends on the position she is looking for. And since I am not in the Human Resources department, I don’t know that answer, anyway, so I shrug again. The other lady, who’s been watching our interaction, walks back to [Lady #1] and grabs her arm.)

Lady #2: “C’mon, [Lady #1]… why you botherin’? You know this [Asian slur] can’t speak no English.”

(Before I even have time to process this comment thoroughly, I respond almost as a reflex.)

Me: “’Can’t speak no English’ is a double negative; it cancels itself out.”

([Lady #1 and #2] look shocked for a second, hearing my first words spoken. [Lady #2] stares at me and says:)

Lady #2: “What?”

(I took a last drag from my cigarette and shrugged my shoulders. They were still standing there talking to each other about the meaning of my one verbal comment when I pulled out of that parking lot.)

One afternoon, my wife and I were puttering around our tiny apartment in a poorer section near the university when the phone rang. It was a pizza place that we could see from a window, calling because a somewhat inebriated, probably homeless man was trying to buy a pizza with a check that had my wife’s name, address, and our phone number — this is back before cell phones were around. The clerk had clearly had suspicions of fraud and called to see if the check use was authorized. We told him it was not and walked over to the store immediately. Surprisingly, the man didn’t run away, and he had an entire box of my wife’s checks that he had presumably stolen from our broken mailbox.  

The clerk said, “Do you want us to call the police? This guy keeps trying to use stolen checks and we’d like to stop it.”

My wife said, “Sure.” She was young. Now, she would have reamed the guy up and down the street.

The police came, arrested him, and kept the box of checks as evidence. We went down and pressed charges. When we checked with the store a few weeks later, the clerk mournfully told us that because there was no evidence that the man had signed the check, the prosecutor wouldn’t pursue the case.  

So, a bum passed a check, the pizza clerk checked up on him, we picked up the check, and the prosecutor took a rain check on earning his paycheck.

(A patron is signing in at a public computer lab.)

Librarian: “Computer sixteen will be open for you in the lef—”

Patron: “What number do you want me to use?”

Librarian: “Number sixteen, in the lef—”

Patron: “Where’s that at?”

Librarian: “It’s in the left—”

Patron: “I don’t want sixteen, I want over there!” *points*

Librarian: “It’s… that’s… the left corner.” 

Patron: *suddenly happy* “You just read my mind.”