My family knows me to be absolutely in love with cats. One day, my mom asked me to take out the trash and I was stopped by our cat.
My mom came out later to inform me that I was out there for an entire hour, cooing over a cat.
(A water-damaged junior book has been returned via the overnight returns. I call the customer to let them know about the charges, but they wish to come in the next day to inspect the book. The book is still wet and smells strongly of chlorine. The next day the father comes in with the daughter and asks to see the book. I go and get it and he looks it over. The book is still damp.)
Father: “I just cannot see her doing this to a book. She must have borrowed it like this.”
Me: “It is extremely unlikely that we had a book on our shelves that was wet. In addition, for it to stay wet for the whole four weeks that you had it out would be very strange.”
Father: “She gets A’s; she’s a good student. Sweetheart, tell the librarian about your spelling tests.”
Girl: “I always get 100%.”
Me: “That’s really great; however, the book was returned water-damaged—”
Father: “Sweetheart, you tell the librarian that you didn’t do this.”
Girl: “I didn’t do it on purpose.”
Me: “Did it happen by accident?”
Girl: “It was in my swimming bag and I kind of put my wet bathers on top, but I forgot it was in there.”
Me: “Sometimes accidents like this happen.”
Father: “No, you didn’t, sweetheart; you wouldn’t do that.”
Girl: “I did, though.”
Father: “Well, what is the charge?”
Me: “$12.50.”
Father: “That’s outrageous; I could get this book for $1!”
Me: “If you can source a brand new copy of this book for $1, then by all means, we can accept that instead of payment.”
Father: “You just wait. $1!”
(That was a month ago. I’m still waiting.)
(We run a small shop that sells and repairs motorbikes. We sell a small motorbike to a couple for their child. They come back in after a few days.)
Customer: “It’s running hot.”
Me: “Why do you think it’s running hot?”
Customer: “The exhaust melted a hole in my daughter’s $80 riding pants.”
Me: “Did she get burnt?”
Customer: “No.”
Me: “The riding pants have done their job, then. But what makes you think it’s running hot?”
Customer: “My husband touched the exhaust and burnt his hand!”
(I am a waitress at a busy restaurant. Note: all our menu items list the ingredients after the name of the dish and before the price. I serve poached eggs to a woman in her 50s.)
Customer: “Oh, ew, no! I don’t want that salmon!”
Me: “I’m sorry. What did you order?”
Customer: “I ordered poached eggs and toast, but not with salmon and asparagus!”
Me: “Okay, let me go and check your receipt.”
(I take her meal to the service counter and confirm that she paid a full $14 for our poached eggs, which lists salmon and asparagus in the ingredients. She has also ordered extra eggs. I have the kitchen remake her order: poached eggs on toast, extra eggs, and take her the $10 difference. A minute later she approaches me again.)
Customer: “I don’t know what’s going on with my food, but this isn’t right, either! I was meant to have bacon with this!”
Me: “I’m sorry; that wasn’t on the receipt, but I’ll go and get some for you.”
(I take out the extra bacon without charging any extra.)
Customer: “I didn’t want this many eggs!”
Me: “That’s okay; you haven’t been charged for them.”
Customer: “Well, I won’t be able to eat them all.”
Me: “Again, that’s fine; they’re on the house.”
Customer: “Did you want them back?”
Me: “No, no, that’s fine. You keep them.”
(While laughing later with my coworker who took the order, I confirmed that she had repeated the original order back three times!)
(I work in a deli. It is basically closing time, and I am pretty tired.)
Customer: “Excuse me?”
Me: “Oh, hey! Didn’t see you there. Can I help you?”
Customer: “Yeah, I have this weird rash. What do I do?”
Me: “Uh…”
(Basically, I spent ten minutes helping a guy with a rash. In a deli. With no medical experience. But lots of salami.)
