(I’m fairly new and still figuring things out, so I have a coworker standing next to me to make sure I’m entering into the till right.)

Me: “Can I get your first and last name, please?”

(The customer gives their name and asks if we have the discount program. Our store sends discounts by email; we don’t give out a card anymore.)

Me: “Yes, we do! We don’t hand out cards anymore; we just take your email and send you the discounts that way, and if you have a smartphone, you can just show us from your phone or print off the coupons! Could I get your email?”

Customer: “I think that’s ridiculous that everything is on the computer or you have to have one of these stupid smartphones to do anything anymore. Don’t sign me up; we’re old school and we don’t have a computer or smartphone.”

(The customer continues to grumble, and then the husband pipes in with more ranting about technology these days.)

Me: “Well, I’m sorry, guys, but considering the fact that most people have a smartphone or computer these days… it just seems logical, don’t you think?”

Customer: “I still don’t think that’s fair to those who don’t!”

Me: “I understand, but I’m just an employee and I can’t change the policies. Sorry.”

(The customer continues being cranky with her husband on their way out the door.)

Coworker: “Did she really just get upset that we use email instead of a card? Normally, people are happy they don’t have to carry another random card in their wallet.”

Me: “Uh… yup… I felt like I was a five-year-old being scolded. I’m gonna go take fifteen, I think.”

(It’s late December. The weather is cold and snowy, and most days have been overcast and dull.)

Husband: *for the millionth time* “The sun doesn’t come up until after breakfast, and it sets before we have supper.”

Me: “Yeah, the cold and the dark can get pretty depressing. We should have some kind of a winter festival, with fancy decorations and parties and special foods and drinks.”

Daughter: “Great idea; you can organize it!”

(Facepalm.)

(My husband and I are the goofs in this one. We unknowingly arrive within 30 minutes of closing at a huge department store. This store is known for being notoriously busy at nearly any time of the day. As we are meandering through the store, we notice that it seems quiet.) 

Me: “Wow, this is such a nice experience. [Store] is always so psychotic.”

Husband: “Yeah, it’s pretty quiet; I’m surprised!”

(We continue to shop, but also continue to observe.)

Me: “Okay, it’s really empty now. Like, ‘something-must-be-wrong’ empty. Are you sure they aren’t closing?”

Husband: “No way! I’m sure they are open until 8:00 pm on Saturdays. I’ll double-check, but I’m sure that’s right.”

(By this time it is 6:15 pm, and we arrived at 5:30 pm, thinking we had two and a half hours to complete our shopping.) 

Husband: “Oh, no. No, we’re totally wrong. They’re closed. They close at six.”

Me: “Noooo. Hurry!”

(We proceed to literally run up and down the last couple aisles grabbing our things. I have always dreaded being “that” person, having worked in retail myself in the past, coming in close to closing and taking their sweet time. We approach one of the two open tills and begin loading our items onto the belt as quickly as possible.) 

Me: *to the cashier* “I am sorry that we are ‘those’ people. We thought you guys were open until 8:00 tonight.”

Cashier: “It’s fine. The hours are a bit confusing. But don’t worry; you’re not alone.” *gestures around* “There’s 178 of ‘those people’ tonight.”

(I work in a popular watch and handbag store. We are just cleaning up the store, with five minutes left until close, when a middle-aged man saunters in.)

Me: “Hello, how are you doing this evening?”

Customer: “Not bad, not bad at all!”

(He walks over to the watch case.)

Customer: “So. I’m going to need some help finding a watch.”

Me: “Oh, okay, what type of watch were you looking for? Metal, leather, silicone…?”

Customer: “One that makes me look like an Irish Gangster!”

(I am totally thrown for a moment, and my coworkers all pause. I then carry on as best as I can, considering he then decides to break into Irish trivia, and then an Irish accent. He finally buys a watch, and then leaves.)

Manager: “Did he say he wanted a watch like an Irish Gangster?”

Me: “This has been a weird day.”

(I am a cashier at a drugstore. We are five minutes past close and I am trying to clear a line of about ten people. We are attached to a mall, but when the mall closes one hour before us, they lock these doors; we have no key to open them.)

Seventh Customer In Line: “Where are your bathrooms?”

Me: “We actually don’t have any at the moment.”

(I then return to trying to quickly get through the line of customers.)

Seventh Customer In Line: “Just let me use the mall bathrooms; I’ll be quick.”

Me: “Sorry, we don’t have a key to those doors.”

Seventh Customer In Line: “What do you mean, you don’t have keys? You’re the one that locked them; now open them!”

Me: “Mall security locks them, not me.”

(The customer goes silent, I help a couple of people through, and she starts tapping her foot impatiently now.)

Seventh Customer In Line: “Oh, come on now, hurry! Hurry! I really gotta piss!”

Me: “I’m sorry, I am going as fast as I possibly can.”

(The customer steps out of line looking completely annoyed and yells up to me.)

Seventh Customer In Line: “I’ve pissed myself now! Are you happy? I pissed. My pants. Thanks a f****** lot!”

Me: “You’re welcome?”