I’m working at a summer camp. The campers are in a woodworking and crafting class.

Instructor: “All right, let’s meet the tools.”

He picks up a hammer.

Instructor: “Hammer. It hits things.”

He picks up a plane.

Instructor: “Plane. It makes things flat.”

He picks up an awl.

Instructor: “An awl. It makes holes. Note that I said, ‘An awl,’ and not just, ‘Awl.’ Every summer, someone tells the campers to get an awl, and they go get all the tools. Don’t be that camper.”

After the campers start working on their projects, the instructor sees a camper putting lots of tools in a bucket.

Instructor: “Hold on, [Camper]. What are you doing with all those tools?”

Camper: “Dunno. I asked [Counselor] what I needed for the next step, and she told me to go get them all.”

Instructor: “Were you listening carefully in the beginning?”

Camper: “Yeah, why?”

I am a personal shopper. We have requirements about how fast we get orders picked, and if we are not fast enough, we can get into trouble. Of course, we are also expected to help the in-store customers to the best of our ability without our pick rate suffering. Most of the time, customers don’t need any more help than being told what aisle something is in or a quick price check.

This customer, however, takes several minutes of my time while I am in the middle of a pick walk.

Customer: “Can you tell me where the tarragon vinegar is?”

Me: “I am not sure we carry that as I don’t think I’ve seen it here before, but if we do, it will be in aisle A27 by all the other vinegars.”

Customer: “Okay, thanks.”

A few minutes later, he snags me in the coffee aisle, very annoyed.

Customer: “You said it would be by the other vinegars. I can’t find it!”

Me: “Okay, I’ll come double-check. I really don’t think we carry it, but I’m happy to take a look.”

I walk over to A27 and check over the vinegar section. It’s not there. The customer is growing increasingly frustrated.

Customer: “You said it would be by the vinegars! I looked all over and it’s not here!”

Me: “I’m going to check on the app to see if we really do carry it, but as I’ve said, I really don’t think we do.”

Customer: “My local [Store] carries it! Why wouldn’t this location?”

I check on the app, but there are no results for tarragon vinegar, which means we don’t carry it. If it’s a product we did carry and I just missed where it’s stocked, the app would tell me where to find it and how many we have on hand.

Me: “I’m very sorry, but it looks like we do not carry it at this location. Do you want me to check to see if one of the other nearby locations carries it?”

Customer: “No! I’m not driving all over. Now I have to call my wife and see what she wants me to do.”

Me: “All right. I’m so sorry we don’t have what you need.”

I start to walk away.

Customer: “No! You stay right here! You are still helping me. I am telling my wife about this!”

Me: “Okay.”

He calls his wife and puts her on speaker.

Customer: “This store doesn’t carry tarragon vinegar! What kind of [Store] doesn’t carry tarragon vinegar? The employee here was no help at all and just kept telling me they don’t have it!”

Wife: “That’s fine. I can make do with regular white vinegar and dried tarragon.”

Customer: “But can you believe this? They don’t carry tarragon vinegar! The employee didn’t even check the back!”

I quickly look through the spices and grab the organic tarragon while he’s complaining to his wife about me and the store in general.

Wife: “Really, it’s fine. Just get dry tarragon.”

I just handed him the tarragon and went back to my walk. This took up nearly five minutes and my pick rate was not so good after that. My manager asked what took so long since it was a relatively short walk, but after I explained, she just shook her head.

I work at a grocery store. We use a third-party service for delivery. Yesterday, a delivery driver picked up two orders and accidentally delivered one to the wrong customer. The customer called us right away and got our department manager, who luckily was able to get in touch with the driver before she arrived at the second customer’s house. She turned around and drove back to this customer to deliver the correct items.

The drivers are required to take a picture of the orders on the doorstep, and our manager is able to see these. We have visual proof that both orders were left at the same condo as the unit number is visible in both photos.

You’d think that would be the end of it, but the customer called back twice this evening after our manager left demanding a refund for the order she never received. Both times she called, she got a coworker who was off yesterday and didn’t know the details, and I only know what the manager told me. It’s also late, so all of salaried management has left for the day; we’re on our own.

Coworker #1: “I’ve got this customer on the line saying she never received her birthday party supplies yesterday and was promised a refund she hasn’t received yet.”

Me: “Oh, that’s the lady the manager was on the phone with all day yesterday. The driver did go back and deliver the correct order. She shouldn’t be entitled to a refund.”

One hour later, she calls again.

Coworker #2: “This lady is yelling at me over the phone because she received toilet paper instead of birthday party stuff yesterday and is demanding a refund now.”

Me: “The driver delivered them. The manager got the pictures. The condo unit number in the picture is the same for both the wrong order and the right order, so we know they got dropped off at the same place.”

Coworker #2: “She just keeps repeating that she doesn’t want the toilet paper. She wants her $400 and party supplies.”

Me: “She should have received her items. [Store] isn’t going to issue a refund since, according to our photos from the driver, she got them. She has made it very clear she received the items she didn’t want, and the condo number in that photo from the driver is the same condo number as the photo with the party supplies.”

Coworker #2: “Now she’s demanding she speak to you because you clearly know everything.”

I take the phone.

Customer: “Since you’re just feeding that boy information like he’s a puppet, I’ll just talk to you. I received toilet paper. I don’t want toilet paper. I want $400!”

Me: “Ma’am, unfortunately, because we have the photos from the driver of the party supplies at the same condo as the toilet paper you did receive, we can’t issue a refund.”

Customer: “I don’t care about those photos! I did not get my order!”

Me: “Listen, ma’am, our manager has gone for the day. We don’t have any authority to help you tonight. You can call the manager in the morning, and she can help you more than us.”

Customer: “I hope you know I am pressing charges. I am recording this phone call and will be sending it to the police. Now give me your name, rank, and job title.”

Me: “I am a personal shopper. I have no rank and cannot help you anymore tonight. Please call tomorrow when our manager is here.”

She hung up on me.

The manager called the customer who had actually ordered the toilet paper. We repicked the items for her and she came to get them herself. That customer did not give us any trouble.

I was picking up my kids after school one day when my fifth-grader suddenly remembered something she wanted to show me. It was a piece of notebook paper on which she and her friend had drawn a phone screen and were writing messages (including the chat bubbles) to each other.

Daughter: “Yeah, we’re not allowed our phones in school, but [Friend] and I figured out how to text each other anyway!”

Me: “When I was in school, we called that ‘passing notes.’”

Daughter: “But you didn’t even have texting back then!”

Me: *Facepalm*

I am eleven, at the store with my mom. We are about to leave without buying anything when my mom grabs a coke from one of the fridges by the checkouts. I figure we’ll just wait in line but she instead storms to the front of the line and cuts in front of a woman unloading her cart onto the belt. Mom puts her coke in front of the cashier and tries to hand her the money for it.

Embarrassed beyond belief, I try to stop my mom:

Mom: *Snaps.* “Be quiet!”

The lady she has cut in front of speaks up.

Lady: “You need to get back in line.”

Mom: *Snaps.* “I only have one thing!”

Cashier: “Ma’am, I was about to serve this lady. You need to get back in line—”

Mom: “It’s just a coke, ring me up!”

I try again to point out that there’s a line, but I’m ignored. My mom ends up throwing the money at the cashier and then takes her coke and we leave. I apologize to the cashier and the lady that was cut in front of, and hurry after my mom.

Me: “Why did you do that?”

Mom: “It was just one thing! The cashier should have just rung up the coke!”