Customer: “You’re wearing a necklace?”

Me: *Pulling up my collar.* “Oh, yes. It must have ridden up at the back.”

Customer: “Is it a cross?”

Me: “No, just something personal.”

Customer: *Shoving her large bejewelled cross in my face.* “You should wear it loud and proud, honey!” *Squints eyes.* “Or are you not Christian?”

Me: “I try not to discuss religion at work, ma’am.”

Customer: “So that means you’re not a Christian.”

Me: *Mental sigh.* “I am a Christian, ma’am, I just try not to make a big deal of it at work.”

Customer: “Well then, you’re not a very good Christian, are you?! You need to shout it loud and proud! We’re under attack in this country and we need to show them that we’re out here serving The Lord!”

Me: “Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven.”

Customer: “…what?”

Me: “Matthew 6:1, ma’am. Will that be cash or card?”

She paid… silently.

I’m picking up my son from school, standing outside with all the other parents. My son is a bit of a forgetful klutz, so as soon as he comes out, I ask:

Me: “You have your gym clothes? Your lunch box? Your insulin?”

Son: “Oh shoot! I forgot my gym clothes!”

He rushes back in to get them, and another mother comes over.

Mother: “Did I hear you say insulin?”

Me: “Yes. [Son] is diabetic.”

Mother: “Oh, that’s not good! You don’t need to put him on that artificial stuff! Insulin is just doctors shilling for Big Pharma. You should just rub lemon balm essential oils into his heels every night.”

Me: “So… that’s the cure for diabetes is it? Lemon balm essential oils? Should we alert the medical community that Susan from Springdale has solved Diabetes! Maybe you could solve Cancer next?”

Mother: “Hmph! Fine. Be like that.”

I suddenly felt very worried about her kids. I mentioned it to the school nurse a few days later, and she just rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t worry, the kids live with their dad every other week and get their vaccinations and checkups with him.”

At our store, we have to ask every customer if they want a bag. It’s policy. I’m working my checkout lane, and here comes a guy who buys the same things every week:

Me: “Do you need a bag?”

Customer: *Grins.* “No, she’s in the car!”

He does this every week. Same dumb joke. Every time, I give him a polite smile, but it’s getting old.

One week, I skipped the bag question entirely, and of course, this is the one time my manager was walking past. He tells me off later.

Manager: “You must ask every customer if they need a bag.”

Fine. Next week comes:

Me: “Do you need a bag?”

Customer: *Same grin.* “No, I left her in the car!”

I lean in, staring deadpan, no smile, no blink, no change in expression, and just let out the loudest, fakest laugh imaginable:

Me: “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.”

I keep eye contact the whole time.

The guy’s grin slowly dies, his face goes red, and he just picks up his stuff without saying another word. 

He’s never made that joke again.

I’m restocking a display of mangos and dragon fruit when an older woman walks over, arms folded, clearly unimpressed.

Customer: “Ugh. What is all this? None of these were around when I was young. We didn’t need all this crazy crap.”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Customer: *Reading the label.* “Dragon fruit? Are they for real? Where’s it from? China? Probably full of germs.”

Me: “Well, we’ve got a wider selection now, for people who like to try different things.”

She waves a hand dismissively at the lychees.

Customer: “Back in my day, we were happy with apples and bananas. Nothing weird. All local!”

Me: “Well, we’ve always imported our Bananas from Guatemala, so I don’t know where you’ve been getting your local Arkansas-grown bananas, but I’d love to know how they’re doing it.”

Customer: “Such bull-s***!”

Me: “Ma’am, I think your bananas have always been foreign. We just didn’t talk about it back then.”

She blinks, clearly thrown, and storms off.

I work in a small-town post office, and when I say small, I mean tiny. I’m working the counter during the afternoon lull when an older gentleman walks in holding a large, battered shoebox sealed with an alarming amount of duct tape.

Customer: “Need to send this to my grandson in Texas.”

He places it down. I look at the address, which is written in pencil and partially smudged.

Me: “Do you have a clearer copy of the address?”

Customer: “[Grandson’s Name], Dallas.”

Me: “…Dallas is a little bigger than that.”

Customer: “He’ll find it.”

Me: “I’ll need a street address and zip code.”

Customer: “He’s got a phone. They’ll call him when it gets there.”

Me: “Who will?”

Customer: “You know. The post people. Y’all track it, right?”

Me: “Dallas is a big place, it’s not like here. If a package comes for you, well, I know you, I can call you. Dallas is a city of over a million people, it doesn’t work that way there.”

Customer: “There ain’t more than a million people! That’s some bull-s***!”

Me: “Perhaps you could call your grandson for his address?”

Customer: “Just send it and call him when it gets there.”

Me: “Even if we could do that, you haven’t put a phone number on the package, either.”

Customer: “Won’t they know him when they see the name?”

Me: “Sir? Have you ever been to Dallas?”

Customer: “Woman, I ain’t ever been outside of Arkansas!”

Me: “Have you ever been to Little Rock?” *The largest city in Arkansas, population about 200,000.*

Customer: “Yeah, but I didn’t like it. Too many people.”

Me: “Dallas is several times bigger than Little Rock.”

Customer: “The h*** are you talkin’ about! No place gets that big!”

Me: “Dallas has. Anyway, I still think you should call your grandson and ask for a full address.”

Customer: “I ain’t got no phone.”

Me: “Would you like to use ours?”

Customer: “I’ll send him a letter and ask him for his address.”

Me: “Letter? As in… writing him a letter?”

Customer: “Yeah! What else would I mean?”

Me: “And do you know the address you use for those letters?”

Customer: “Yeah, it’s 123 Name Street, Dallas, 75226.”

Me: “…”

Customer: “What?”

Me: “Nothing, sir. I think we have everything we need to send the package.”

Customer: “Finally! Y’all a little slow today, ain’t ya?”

Related:
In A State Of Confusion, Part 12
In A State Of Confusion, Part 11
In A State Of Confusion, Part 10
In A State Of Confusion, Part 9
In A State Of Confusion, Part 8