I work overnight at a midrange hotel, internationally known

*The phone rings w/ an outside call, I answer it…*

Me: “Good morning, thank you for calling [Name of hotel], this is [my name], how may I help you?”

Caller: “Can I use [Competitor]’s rewards card there?”

Me, “No, ma’am. That’s a different chain than us.’

Caller: “How would I find out where I can use this?”

Me (trying not to face plant or laugh): “There should be an 800 number on the card to call to ask, or calling their reservations number?”

Caller: “Really? Thanks!”

She hangs up. And it was so par for the course of the last week, I didn’t even get upset, but rather pass on the story of just how odd that people get when calling a hotel! My breakfast servers got a laugh out of her too!

Corporate has decided to ban all sampling indefinitely in lieu of all the very busy days and panic buying. I was just informed of this a few hours before this incident. I am working the counter while my manager is stocking the shelves in front of the cases. An older man comes up, smelling like alcohol, and I go to assist him. Everything he says is slightly slurred but still understandable.

Me: “Hi, can I help you?”

 A customer is pointing vaguely at the hot case where everything is chicken.

Customer: “How much is this chicken?”

Me: “Which chicken?”

Customer: *louder* “The chicken!”

Me: “The fried chicken, the baked chicken, the chicken tenders?”

Customer: “Just give me a sample of your chicken salad.”

I start to grab a sample cup and spoon, but my manager, who has been watching, tells me no samples.

Me: “I’m sorry, we’re not giving samples right now.”

Customer: *Angrily* “Why not?”

Me: “Due to the viru—”

The customer completely cuts me off.

Customer: “F*** you and your mom!”

Me: *Calmly* “May you be blessed with the same kindness you show everyone else.”

I just moved on to help the next customer and my manager followed the first customer upfront and made sure that he wasn’t allowed to buy his beer.

(I work for a large grocery chain. While I am standing by my section stocking, a customer walks up to me.)

Customer: “Excuse me. Do you guys carry bread?”

Me: “Yes ma’am, the bread is on Aisle 1 across from the Deli section.”

Customer: “Oh thank you!”

I look at her with a neutral expression on my face while I am in utter shock as to why she would think a grocery store would not carry bread. Unfortunately, I’ve had two or three people ask me if we carry bread.

(A coworker and I are stocking and chatting alongside each other when a customer approaches.)

Customer: “Excuse me. I’ve experienced static electricity several times in the past half-hour I’ve been shopping.”

Me: *exchanging a look with my coworker* “Oh, that’s… unfortunate?”

Customer: “Is that usual around here?”

Me: “Well, yeah. It’s very dry, particularly in the winter, so that’s pretty common.”

(The customer stares at us and we blink back at her for a few moments, not sure what else to say.)

Customer: “Well, I guess you aren’t going to do anything about it, then!”

(The customer harrumphs, turns on her heel, and stomps away.)

Me: “What was I supposed to do, offer to insulate her in petroleum jelly or something?”

Coworker: “She should have stayed in her bubble where it’s safe.”

I work on delivering packages for a major online store. They have recently started scheduling delivering as early as 8:00 am, so this means I’m up around 2:30 am to be ready for the early-morning delivery blocks. I am on the way when I realize I should put more gas in the car and grab some liquid caffeine at the same time, so I pull into a local gas station to tank up.

When I get there, I notice a rather thin man walking around in a thin coat — which is understandable, as it can get quite cold at night here, even in the desert. What I do not expect is that he is wearing sandals… and a red, ankle-length dress. I am a little unnerved, but he doesn’t make any violent moves toward me as I get out of my car and doesn’t even seem to notice me. I think, “Live and let live,” and head in to get a drink and some fuel.

As I’m paying, I mention the guy to the cashier, because he should probably know the guy’s around for safety reasons. When I describe him, he says, “Yeah… he used to be a cashier at one of our other stores.”

Already thinking this night might be a little too surreal, I ask, “Used to be?”

The cashier responds, “Yeah. He got fired when he spilled a soft-serve cone on the floor and then began licking it up. He hangs around a few of the stores sometimes.”

When I step outside, the man is gone, leaving no trace behind. I pump my gas, looking around me multiple times, but he does not reappear.

I still think about him. Shine on, you crazy, dress-wearing, ice-cream-off-the-floor-licking diamond.