My grandma is 101 years old this year. I asked her how she managed to live so long, and she said:

Grandma: “It certainly wasn’t healthy living. No, God’s punishing me for all the sex.”

Me: *Chuckling.* “I know I’ve got three aunts and two uncles, but was that really enough to draw God’s ire?”

Grandma: “No, I mean after your grandpa died.”

Me: “But surely you’re done with that now?”

Grandma: “My boyfriend’s coming over later tonight. I sure as hell am not done yet.”

Me: “Wow. I hope I have the energy to carry on like that when I’m your age.”

Grandma: “If you sin enough, maybe you’ll be able to, too.”

I am a woman working in a retail store. I forgot to bring the lunch I had prepared the night before, so my wife came into the store to hand it over to me. I’m serving customers at the register, so she waits until I finish serving one customer before moving on to the next.

Wife: “Here! Put that under the counter until lunchtime!”

Me: “Oh my gosh, thanks so much!”

Customer: *Stepping up to be served.* “Oh, it’s so nice your friend was able to bring you your lunch.”

Me: “Yes, it is, but she’s not my friend, she’s my—”

Customer: “—Oh. Sister then? But you don’t look alike. Sisters by law?”

Wife: “I’m her wife.”

Customer: “Whose wife?”

Me: “My wife.”

Customer: “I… I don’t understand. You’re both wives?”

Me: “Yup!”

Customer: “So… where are the husbands?”

Wife: “No husbands, just us.”

Customer: “I don’t think you understand, dear, because that would make you lesbians.”

My wife and I both look at each other with a “she’s soooo close” look.

Customer: *Maybe realising.* “Oh! Oh, but you can’t be lesbians!”

Me: “Why not?”

Customer: “You’re both so pretty! Lesbians are just women too ugly to get men!”

Wife: “Wooow. My lovely wife here is on the clock so probably can’t say anything, but I can. The only ugly thing here right now is that s*** that just came out of your mouth. You need to apologize.”

Customer: “Apologize for what?! Speaking the truth?!”

Me: “Ma’am, my wife, amazing as she is, was actually wrong. I can say something, and do something. I can refuse service. Please take your items to another checkout.”

Customer: “But there are long lines!”

Me: “It’s another checkout, or no checkout.”

The customer, agitated and turning red, suddenly turns to the customer immediately behind her. We didn’t realize it until just now, but they know each other.

Customer: “Come on, [Woman’s Name], we’re not settling for this treatment.”

Customer’s Sister: “No way, sis. You did this to yourself. I haven’t been refused service because I’m not a bigoted c*** who is so narrow-minded she could look through a keyhole with both eyes at the same time.”

Customer: “Fine! Hang out here with the [Lesbian slurs]!” *Pushes past other customers to get into another line.*

Customer’s Sister: *Stepping up.* “Sorry about her. She’s a bit older than me and was mostly raised by my Gran. That’s a lot to deprogram.”

Wife: “Sorry to hear.”

Me: “Yeah, good luck with her.”

Customer’s Sister: “She’ll be fine. She’s been banned by so many places in town that she’s going to have to change if she ever wants to go shopping again!”

We all have a little giggle while I check out this nicer customer’s items for her.

Later that day, the manager called me over and said a customer had complained about me and “a bunch of lesbians” ganging up on her and being straight-phobic, refusing her service. After I’d stopped laughing my a*se off, I explained what happened, and that the “bunch of lesbians” had been my wife and the customer’s own sister, who can confirm what really went down.

Manager: “I don’t need to follow up on that, I know you wouldn’t do that. Just thought you could do with a good laugh.”

This is a while ago, but I remember mostly how the conversation played out.

I worked on Sydney Harbour cruises back in 1988, Australia’s Bicentennial Year. I had a boat full of USA tourists who were absolutely polite, kind, and tipped well. But one did ask:

Tourist: “How often do you have these Bicentennials? They’re really neat!”

After I laughed, I explained:

Me: “It’s a fancy way of saying it’s the country’s 200^th birthday. It’s a big government-supported celebration.”

Tourist: “Oh. So, you have one every year?”

Tourist’s Wife: “No, honey, it’s a one-time thing. You can only have one Bicentennial.”

Tourist: “Well then, they need to vote for someone who lets them do it every year! We have a July 4^th every year! You should too!”

Tourist’s Wife: “Honey, the USA had a bicentennial back in ’76, remember?”

Tourist: “We did? I don’t remember that.”

Tourist’s Wife: “July 4^th, 1976, remember?”

Tourist: “I don’t remember.”

The wife looks at me.

Tourist’s Wife: “Carry on with your tour, honey. He’s fine. He doesn’t remember a lot of the seventies. It was all the acid.”

I carried on the harbour tour as normal, and I think the guy finally got it by the end, as he was super happy, they’d timed their trip for a once-in-a-two-hundred-year event, as he said:

Tourist: “Wait, so it’s gonna be another two hundred years before you have another Bicentennial?”

Me: “Y’know what? Close enough.”

I change the discount stickers on the shelves every week. I’m also neurodivergent. I know EXACTLY where items are.

Old Man: *Hollering down half the aisle.* “‘Scuse me, mate!”

Me: “Yes?” 

Old Man: “What aisle’s the sauce in?”

There are several aisles that have sauces of various categories.

Me: “What kind of sauce?”

Old Man: “Mustard, and honey.”

He definitely paused in the middle.

Me: “Okay, honey’s in this aisle right behind you, and m—”

Old Man: “—Nah nah nah! Mustard AND honey!

Thinking, that’s normally called ‘honey-mustard’, and I was about to tell you.

Me: “Mustard is in ais—”

Old Man: *Angry?* “Nah, don’t worry about it!”

Me: “Aisle eigh—”

Old Man: *Angry and backing away.* “Nah, don’t! I’ll f****** find it myself!”

I’m just standing there, dumbfounded. A lady approaches from the other side.

Lady: “Excuse me, could you please tell me where to find the eggs and the jars of sweetener?”

Me: “Yes! Eggs are along the back wall, past the meat. If you get to the milk, you’ve gone too far. Sweetener is in the baking aisle, number 9, in between sugar and flour.”

Lady: “Thank you!”

I work in a supermarket, and our policy (or maybe our country’s consumer law policy) is to give an item for free if it scans higher than the ticketed price.

As I often am, I was called over my headset to check a price on something that scanned higher for the customer than they expected. Reaching the location in the aisle, I noticed an old price ticket that should have been removed previously was still there, giving the impression that this item was half price. I informed the checkout operator that the price was wrong and thought that was it. 

A couple of minutes later, I hear a call over the PA informing that there was an aggressive customer at the front end. Basically, this means as many team members as possible should attend, in order to scare a customer who may be physically violent into backing down with a large presence there.

A manager and I got there first, and this guy was going on about how he hadn’t been charged correctly for his items. He had four of the items, and following the same policy that gave him the first one free, he would get all subsequent items for the price advertised on the shelf. So, he had one for free, and three at half price.

Manager: “That’s how the policy works. You’re actually better off; you got one for free!”

Customer: “No, it’s wrong! Just charge me for them all!”

He wasn’t having it, and kept arguing about it, and told us to just charge him for them all. As soon as the final one was put through (at half price), his whole tone changed, and he calmed down immediately.

Customer: “It’s already cheap enough. I don’t understand why it should be free.”

He then proceeded to leave. 

I should point out that this item, even at full price, is under $5 each, so it’s not big money, but anything free these days should be considered a win!