(There’s a regular who comes in once a week or so and talks my ear off the whole time. He talks at me, doesn’t ask me anything about myself, and doesn’t seem to listen to me when I do get a word in edgewise. I listen politely for as long as I can, but I am at work so I usually excuse myself after twenty minutes or so. Then, he comes in again.)

Regular: “Hey! I need to talk to you.”

Me: *currently with other visitors* “Okay. Sure. Give me a second.”

Regular: “Will you go out with me?”

Me: *stunned but not wanting to be mean* “Uh… We can discuss that but I have to finish helping these people.”

Regular: “I think you and I have a real connection. I’m in love with you.”

Other Visitor: “You know what? We’ll… we’ll wait, if you want to deal with this. It’s okay.”

Regular: “I’m in love with you.” *raising his voice* “I love you!”

(There’s several visitors nearby and all of them look over.)

Me: “Uh. Okay. Cool. That’s very nice, but I have a boyfriend.”

Regular: “But he doesn’t love you like I love you! You and I are perfect for each other!”

Me: “Dude. Look. I’m very flattered, but I don’t feel that way about you.”

Regular: *completely unembarrassed and smiling* “That’s not true! I know you love me, too. We understand each other.”

Me: “We really don’t. Please stop.”

Regular: *laughs* “Don’t be silly. Come on.”

Me: “Seriously? I am at work, I have a boyfriend, and I am not interested. Okay?”

Regular: “But your boyfriend doesn’t get you like I do!”

Me: “Oh, really? Hey, quick question: What’s my name?”

Regular: *smile fading* “What?”

Me: “What’s my name?”

Regular: “Oh. Uh. It’s… Um…” *getting flustered* “Well, that doesn’t matter. I love you! I don’t need to know your name to love you!”

Me: “I’m going to walk away now. Please leave.”

(He kept shouting how he loved me while I walked away and went out into the store room. One of the security guards had to come over and explain to him that a woman being nice to you while she’s at work doesn’t mean anything. He hasn’t come in since.)

(I am currently working as a ticket seller for an international boat show. Aside from their tickets, customers need to be stamped just in case they want to go in and out of the venue. Everything is going dandy; the flow couldn’t be any more perfect. That is, until an old man in his mid- to late sixties comes up to my coworker’s window:)

Coworker: “Good morning, sir! What will it—”

Customer: “DO I HAVE TO GET MY HAND STAMPED? I FIND THE THOUGHT OF GETTING INK ON MY SKIN DEEPLY AND HIGHLY OFFENSIVE!”

Coworker: “Um… I’m sorry, sir, but—”

Customer: “THERE HAS TO BE AN ALTERNATIVE! I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS VIOLATION OF MY RIGHTS!”

Coworker: *clearly flabbergasted by his hysterics*

(Luckily, my supervisor stepped right in before the man went berserk, and everything was sorted out pretty quickly. I hope he didn’t give the ticket scanners another earful about his deep, dark fears.)

(The phone rings.)

Me: “[Restaurant]. [My Name] speaking.”

Customer: “I’d like to make a complaint.”

Me: “Sure. What was the problem.”

Customer: “Asians.”

Me: “Asians?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “I’m not sure that’s something you can complain about.”

Customer: “Oh. Okay.” *hangs up*

(I work at a market research centre where we call people and do surveys. At the moment we’re doing ones on behalf of the local government about nuclear energy. It’s a pretty touchy topic with some people, as it’s about storing nuclear waste.)

Me: “Hi. My name is [My Name] from [Company]. The local government has commissioned us to get the views and opinions of the public on the nuclear industry. Would you be able to share your opinions?”

Resident: “No, I will f****** well not! I am totally against the government wasting their money to pay you to call us up to ask stupid questions! They should be spending that money on more health care for us!”

(At this stage, I go, “Thank you very much, then. Bye,” and hang up, but I am near the end of my tether.)

Me: “Sir, it’s just getting your opinions on the nuclear industry—”

Resident: “Well, I don’t f****** agree with it! They’re going to put it on our land and not even bother consulting us about it!”

Me: “Sir, that is the purpose of these surveys—”

Resident: “Oh, I don’t need a f****** high and mighty university student telling me what to do! A waste of f****** money, you are. You want to hear my opinion? The nuclear industry is a crock of s*** and they should be consulting with us! That’s my opinion! Tell the government that!”

Me: “Sir, if you don’t do the survey, then your opinion in this matter doesn’t count because I have no way to record it. And also, by doing these surveys, the government is trying to consult with you.”

Resident: “It f****** well better count! I have rights and I will be heard! The f****** government should get its head out of its a** and give more funding to us, ‘cause we need it more! And stop paying stuck up b****es like you to call us up for f****** surveys or whatever.”

Me: “Once again, your opinion does not matter since you’re refusing to take part in the survey. I’ve had enough of you. Good day.”

(I could hear him start to violently protest when I hung up. I’m glad I don’t work for commission and know I have the right to hang up if I wish.)

(I work on the checkouts of my local supermarket. Our return policy isn’t strictly enforced because it’s mainly regulars that have accidentally picked up the wrong item or have a broken item. A man I’ve never seen before approaches my checkout with a frozen item, and after I finish serving another customer, I approach him.)

Me: “Hi, how can I help you?”

Customer: “I bought the wrong frozen pastry.

Me: “Okay, did you have the receipt with you?”

Customer: “No, but if you scan the barcode it will tell you when I bought it.”

(I’m dumbfounded. That is not how barcodes work, and I try to explain that to him. As I am doing so there is a line forming at my checkout. The man calls his partner, who obviously sent him up to get the right product.)

Customer: *on the phone, as I’m serving the surge of new customers* “She says that’s not how barcodes work…”

(It was obvious that his partner was arguing with him, telling him that I was wrong. In the end I did not put the refund through and I haven’t seen him since.)