I work in a sandwich shop two blocks away from a college campus. We stay open until 4:00 am but lock the bathroom every night at midnight as a result of people puking, having sex, doing drugs, etc., in the bathroom after that point. The building we are connected to still has a public bathroom connected to it. Despite this, drunk people still always try to argue with us about locking the bathroom. There are a lot of stories about those arguments, but this one is my favorite.

A drunk guy, who is likely no more than nineteen years old, comes into the store.

Drunk Guy: “Hey, man, your bathroom is locked and I’ve been waiting for like ten minutes. I don’t think anyone is in there. Can you unlock it for me?”

Me: “I’m sorry, we close the bathrooms at midnight. There is a public one just outside, to the left.”

Drunk Guy: “You can’t do that! I need to go!”

The kid continues to argue with me for about five minutes — he could have gone to and back from the other bathroom multiple times — about how it isn’t okay to lock our bathroom. The local police department has an office a few doors down from us and they frequently come in to eat. As he is arguing, two cops join the line.

Drunk Guy: “I’m a law student, and I know for a fact that if you have a business that can serve more than a hundred people, you have to provide a bathroom. So, are you going to open it, or are we going to have a legal problem?”

Me: “Oh, wow! is it really illegal?”

Drunk Guy: “It is! So, do I need to report you?”

Me: “I guess you should call the police.”

Drunk Guy: “What?”

Me: “Okay, I will.”

I waved over to the cops in line. One noticed me and started to come over, but as soon as the drunk kid saw him, he bolted.

I’m currently out shopping with my brother. We shop by the week, not the month, because there has been some panic buying going on and we have adopted a “Go often and grab what is available” sort of thing.

While we are looking around and trying to navigate the one-way aisle setup, we are stopped by an elderly lady and her middle-aged daughter.

Middle-Aged Daughter: “Do you know where to look for [item] in the store?”

I am about to give the “We don’t work here” line but look around and see that all the employees are dealing with the many people in the store. I figure, “What the h***?” and point out the aisle, walking with them to confirm. They find it and nod to us.

Elderly Lady: “Do you work here?”

Me: “No, ma’am. The others looked busy, and we weren’t in a hurry.”

They’re surprisingly courteous and I realize I don’t want to get snarky or jokey about it. Why ruin someone else’s day?

Elderly Lady: “Oh… Well, thank you, but you look like you work here.”

As they walk off, I look at my brother, who says:

Brother: “Face it. We are going to look like retail forever.”

So one night i’m cleaning shelves in the toy area in the store I work in when i find a chicken bone sitting on top of toy truck, some what disgusted but more bemused then any thing I turn to some coworkers to show them my find. They find it strange and funny as well we all share a laugh and even make a couple of jokes about it, but seriously who does that sort of thing?

I have worked in the nursery industry in the desert city of Phoenix for many years. As a youngster- I worked in retail- but eventually graduated to the wholesale end- and obviously a much more DESIRABLE aspect of the industry.

When the housing boom went bust, the wholesale jobs went away- but retail remained- and you do what ya gotta do- and my brief diversion back into retail has lasted 4 years…

So yeah. Retail customers. Dumb plant questions.

“Why is it hottest in the middle of the day?”
“What is the best way to let a plant dry out?”
“Why isn’t my plant (that I planted in coffee grounds) doing so well?”
“How can I kill my neighbor’s tree?”
“Can you come and move my (20, 30, 40 ft) saguaro cactus?”

“Mmmm, you’re plants don’t LOOK very good…”

That’s when I typically intensely look around their shoulders and and head- and behind them- until they finally ask “What are you doing?!?!” Me: ” Just looking for the guy holding the gun to your head forcing you to shop here, ma’am…”

So I work in a grocery store bakery. It’s in the afternoon, after 5PM when everyone else but the closer (me) goes home for the day. The phone rings and as I pick it up, there is a woman with a heavy accent and very broken English on the other line.

ME: Bakery. This is (me). Can I help you?

WOMAN: You speak Spanish?

ME: No ma’am.

WOMAN: Why not!?

ME: I just don’t know the language ma’am. I never learned it.

WOMAN: This bad customer service. I speak to someone who speaks Spanish.

ME: Nobody here right now speaks Spanish ma’am. (and this is true. Nobody in the bakery or deli does. As for someone across the store, only a cashier and the person at money services might, and they have long lines and can’t be asked to leave their area or ignore their customers to take a possible cake order.)

WOMAN: When someone come in that speaks Spanish? One hour? two? Three.

ME: Everyone has gone home for the day ma’am. Nobody else is coming in.

WOMAN: Nobody??

ME: The next person who comes in that speaks Spanish comes in tomorrow morning.

WOMAN: Tomorrow!? This is horrible customer service!

She promptly hangs up.

It’s horrible customer service to not be bilingual?