My husband drives a lovely orange car, and I work in a soul-sucking retail job. One day, while I am at work, I see him finding a parking spot midway through my shift. About five minutes later, a customer grabs me and attempts to twirl me around to face her.

Customer: “EXCUSE ME!”

I icily turn to look at her.

Me: “What.”

Customer: “What? What do you mean, ‘What’?! That’s the b****iest greeting I’ve ever gotten from you, [My Name]! I’d think that of all people—” *gestures at my massive belly* “—YOU would be concerned about this problem!”

Me: “What is going on, ma’am? What problem?”

Customer: “If you were to park and have no parking spot, you’d definitely have a problem! A man just parked there, and you better believe I addressed that. But! He kept on saying, ‘I have every right to be here,’ but no. He’s. A. Man. Not pregnant! Can’t be! I don’t care what he has to say!”

Me: “Quick question, ma’am. Was he driving an orange [Make] [Model] car?”

Customer: “Yeah? So?”

Me: “Well, remind me to thank my husband for parking so close! And he is right: expectant moms’ spaces, unlike our store’s handicapped spaces, aren’t legally required!”

Customer: “What?!“

Me: “They’re just a courtesy! If I were driving, I’d prefer to park in the furthest spot possible, because at that time, I have the energy to walk! But when my husband picks me up from work, he’ll park in the expectant moms’ spot because I’ve had a long day and a short walk is appreciated.”

Customer: “But it… he’s not pregnant!”

My husband and daughter walk into the store. I wave at them, and they wave back but hang out by the bakery display at the front of the store, probably because they recognize the customer.

Me: “Again, the expectant mothers’ spot is not legally required and is a convenience for our expecting customers. As for associates and their family using the spot for a pregnant associate, as long as we don’t—”

Customer: “MEN SHOULD NOT! Be allowed to park in that spot! It’s unjust! Unfair!”

Husband: “As my wife and I explained to you several times, it is perfectly legal to take advantage of the store’s courtesy and park in that spot when it is reasonable.”

He puts his hand on my belly.

Husband: “And I’m sure that our son will have the same consideration for his wife one day.” *To me* “So, I’m gonna go do my shopping and hopefully, you’ll be done with work by then.”

Me: “Thanks, honey.”

The customer made an “Aaagh!” sound as she threw her hands up and walked away. I gave my husband and daughter a brief hug and sent them off to shop with a kid-size grocery cart.

It’s Labor Day, and we have shortened hours because of it, so we have a sign on the door that reads, “Hours: 7-5.” I work at a store that occasionally does a happy hour in the afternoon with half-off or two-for-one drinks. A couple comes in at about three pm and we have this interaction.

Woman: “Are you having a happy hour today?”

Me: “Oh, no. There’s one on Friday, though!”

Woman: *Getting angry* “Well, why does your sign say there’s a happy hour from five to seven?”

Me: “Oh, those are our hours for the day! From seven am to five pm.”

Woman: “Well, that’s false advertising.”

Me: “I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. What can I get for you?”

Woman: “I want [very complex $15 dollar drink], and I’m not going to pay for it because of the false advertising you have.”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. I apologize, but that’s not an offer today, and even if it was, I could only give you half off.”

Woman: *Rolling her eyes* “Fine, but I want your largest cold brew with no water and no ice, and I have a coupon for it.”

I know we’re running low on cold brew and if I make that we’ll have no cold brew until tomorrow evening.

Me: “All right, can I see the coupon?”

She shows me her phone with an expired coupon.

Me: “I’m sorry, that’s expired; I can’t use it.”

Woman: “Well, you should honor it anyway! How was I supposed to know?!”

My supervisor comes over.

Supervisor: “Ma’am, I will give you the drink for free today on the condition you stop trying to cheat the cashier out of a free drink; you could have easily gotten it if you were nice to her in the first place.”

My supervisor hands her the drink and aggressively throws the straw down at her. The woman scowls and leaves and motions for her boyfriend to follow, after he didn’t get a drink or even a chance to say anything.

Supervisor: “I have no problems giving free drinks because they’re so overpriced, but if a customer ever tries to cheat you out of one, come to me.”

That was very refreshing, because normally this supervisor can be a bit of a strict policy follower, so it was nice to know that he has my back when we have to break policy!

I take a call at 2:00 pm.

Client: “If I get documents to you by the end of the day, can you still file them with the court today?”

Me: “Yeah, sure. There will be a rush fee, but I should be able to do it. What type of documents are they?”

Client: “It’s a [document asking the judge to reschedule a hearing date].”

Me: “Oh, okay, that’s pretty straight forward. I can—”

Client: “Yeah, the hearing was today.”

Me: “…”

Client: “So, can you still get over there?”

Me: “…”

I go to a local chicken place to pick up something for dinner and the drive-thru lane is ridiculously long. I opt to just park and go inside where I can see no one else is. Luckily, I keep a mask in my car in case of situations like these.

While I am inside, four other people arrive: three men and one woman. All are about age fifty or over. Two of the men are wearing masks and the woman and one man are not. I order my food and step to the side to wait. During this time, the man not wearing a mask, dressed in a full cowboy get-up, begins berating me and the other two men for wearing masks, saying, “That’s not gonna do s***.” The other two men start defending themselves from this completely uninvited criticism, and soon, all three are arguing over masks.

I finally have enough listening to this guy and politely tell him that none of us asked for his opinion. He wheels on me, gets very upset, and tells me I need to respect him because he’s sixty-two years old. He says this like he’s proving a point, to which I simply reply, “Good for you.” 

He continues to say that people like me are what’s wrong with America and insulting my weight. 

He steps up to me like he’s going to take a swing at me, but I continue to lean against the wall, not rising to the bait. The other customers are shocked at how mad the guy is getting. 

The line finally moves and the guy keeps muttering under his breath at me. My order is finally ready and I get my order. When I get outside, the woman who was inside says she is going to wait for the man to exit so she can write down his license plate number. It seems she smelled something on his breath and knew he shouldn’t be driving. 

The moral of the story? Just stay in the car and wait in line!

I’m flagged down by a customer who has been standing slack-jawed in front of the Himalayan salt lamp display for a really long time.

Customer: “Hey, what’s the deal with this? Why the heck are you selling rocks?”

Me: “They’re decorative lamps.”

Customer: *Skeptically* “Say what? How are people supposed to use a rock as a lamp?”

Me: “You just plug it into an outlet and change the bulbs out like a normal lamp?” 

Customer: *Laughing* “Plug in a rock?”

Me: “Uh, yeah. See how it has a cord… and is lit up?”

Customer: “That’s stupid. Why wouldn’t people just buy a normal lamp?”

Me: “Some people think the crystals are pretty.”

The customer has a momentary gleam of shrewdness in his eyes.

Customer: “Crystals?! You don’t even lock them in a case? Shoot, if someone stole a crystal this size, they could pawn it for a mint.”

Me: “Not all minerals are that valuable. These are just big salt crystals; they would melt if you got them wet.”

The customer recoils like a vampire from a crucifix.

Customer: “Oh, h*** no! Is this going to give me a heart attack?” 

Me: “Huh?”

Customer: “My doctor says I need to stay away from salt because my blood pressure is too high!”

I die a little inside.

Me: “It’s a lamp. As long as you can avoid eating it, it shouldn’t affect your health.”

Customer: “Oh, I can’t take that risk! I gotta stay away from salt, and I’ve been standing here this whole time! I got the high blood pressure!”

He approaches me again later, asking if we have any food he can eat — just the vague category of “food”. I try showing him how to read nutritional labels so he can look at what he normally likes to eat and determine whether it will be harmful to his condition. This is complicated by the fact that he is still convinced proximity is a factor.

Me: “See here, how this one says on the front that it’s unsalted?”

The customer takes off down the aisle to what he arbitrarily determines as a safe distance.

Customer: “Oh, my blood pressure can’t handle that! I can’t have no kind of salt, not even unsalt.”

Me: *Calling after him* “Sir, unsalted means there is no salt.”

Customer: “Yeah, and my doctor said I can’t have no salt! I got high blood pressure!”

This went on ad nauseam until I decided he was either trolling or beyond help and excused myself to get back to my tasks.