I’m doing work experience for a week at a zoo. I’m in the farmyard inside a barn-esque building as people wander around. A boy, no older than seven, approaches the flightless cockatoo who lives inside on a large branch wedged in a pen fence. The cockatoo is named Charlie.

Cockatoo: *Looking at the boy* “Hey, Charlie!”

He says his own name sometimes, as he’s so used to hearing it.

Boy: *Gaping* “Wow! The cockatoo knows my name!”

Me: “Actually, the cockatoo is named Charlie, too. You have the same name!”

I thought this child would be excited, but nope. He tears up and starts absolutely bawling. He seems to be literally having a breakdown.

Boy: “I don’t want to have the same name as a cockatoo!”

I was speechless. The mother came over and, thankfully, apologised and walked away.

I’m doing a cover shift in the deli at a large supermarket. A young bloke comes in, obviously not having showered for a couple of days, with a dumper — half-smoked and extinguished — cigarette in his mouth. He orders five slices of Devon, a lunchmeat. I take out the slices and bag it up, and as I’m about to print out the label, he says:

Customer: “You’re going to run that through as chicken, right?”

Me: “No. It’s Devon.”

Customer: “Yeah, but you need to run it through as chicken breast.”

Me: “I can’t do that. It’s Devon. And it’s significantly cheaper than chicken breast.”

Customer: “Yeah, but my wife sent me here to get chicken. We can’t afford chicken and she’s dumb as dog s***, so if you just put chicken as the label, that’ll fool her.”

Me: “I can’t do that, sorry. Maybe try writing chicken on the bag once you’ve left the store?”

The customer nodded as if I’d given him something profound to think about. He took the Devon and walked off. It was by far the strangest interaction I had that day.

I work in a Chinese restaurant. I’m twenty-one, but many say I only look about sixteen. A lady comes in and sits at a table right by the door.

Customer: “I’ll have the teriyaki chicken, please.”

Me: “I’m sorry, we don’t have teriyaki chicken.”

Customer: “Ugh, fine, I’ll have the butter chicken.”

Me: “Again, I’m sorry, but we don’t have butter chicken.”

Customer: *Yelling* “This is ridiculous! You are a bloody Asian restaurant! You’re telling me that you don’t have Asian food?!”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but—”

Customer: “No, I’ve had enough of your d*** apologies! I want teriyaki chicken and I’m not leaving until you get me it. Now stop being some lazy-a** teenager and go and do your job!”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m not a teenager, and secondly, this is a Chinese restaurant, so if you don’t want anything off the menu, I suggest you leave.”

I walked away, hoping she’d either shut up or just leave. The lady sat there for the next twenty minutes complaining to any customers walking in that we were absolutely awful. Eventually, she gave up and left, trying to slam the door on her way out but failing because our hinges prevented it, and ended up falling on her backside.

Related:
Don’t You Speak Asian?, Part 2
Don’t You Speak Asian?

Caller: “I am having a problem with my computer. The Internet doesn’t work!”

Me: “Okay. First of all, can you open Internet Explorer?”

Caller: “I have done that, but it just says, ‘Page not found.’”

Me: “That’s okay. Near the top of your screen, there should be a button that looks like a small cog. Can you click on that?”

Caller: “Okay, I have done that.”

Me: “There should be a menu which pops us. Near the bottom of that, it should say, ‘Internet Options.’”

Caller: “Yes, I can see that.”

Me: “Click on ‘Internet Options.’”

Caller: “Sorry, I can’t do that.”

Me: “Oh, um, why?”

Caller: “That’s too hard. I don’t know much about computers.”

Me: “Oh, that’s okay. I’ll tell you exactly what to click on.”

Caller: “Sorry, I can’t do it.” *Hangs up*

There were only about three more steps. I have successfully walked plenty of elderly and computer-illiterate people through this procedure, but this was the only time I have ever had someone give up after two steps.

I am a supervisor in a store; on this particular day, I am acting as manager. I am serving a customer and have a couple of others in my queue when a woman bypasses the queue, standing directly in front of my register. Customers often do this if they have a question that can be easily answered.

Me: *To the woman* “Are you waiting to ask a question?”

Customer: “I need you to show me where [item] is.”

Me: “I am sorry, but I am serving here. If you would like help, you can join the queue or find another team member on the shop floor.”

Customer: *Sighs dramatically.* “I am [Other Supervisor]’s Aunt.” 

Me: “Sorry, but she’s not in today.”

She responds with more emphasis, glaring at the customer I am serving.

Customer: “I need you to get me [item]. I am [Other Supervisor]’s aunt.” 

Me: “Yes, so you said. Now, please, get on the end of the queue.”

Just then, an associate comes into view.

Me: “Better still, just go and see that lady there.”

She finally walks off, and my customer gives me a look of pity. I finish serving her and start on the next customer, and then the phone rings. It’s my manager, sounding furious. I get another associate to take over my sales so I can find out what is wrong.

Manager: “What the h*** is going on there? I just got a call from [Other Supervisor] telling me that her mother just called her to say that the doors are locked and she’s standing outside trying to get in.”

Me: “What? The doors are wide open. I am looking at them right now and am trying to serve a line of customers.”

This manager always takes her word over mine.

Manager: “That’s not what [Other Supervisor] said, her mother is locked out.”

Me: “It’s the truth, [Other Supervisor]’s aunt is in the store right now; she’s been trying to make me be her personal shopper because she’s her aunt.”

Manager: “Well, I am going to call [Other Supervisor] back to find out what is going on, and if I have to come in to find out you are lying to me, there will be h*** to pay.”

Me: *Absolutely fuming* “I am not lying; the door has not been closed at all today.”

This can be proven by all the security cameras. A few minutes later, the manager rings back.

Manager: “Uh, I spoke to [Other Supervisor]. Apparently, it was an April Fool’s joke.”

Me: “Really?!”

Manager: “Are you okay?”

Me: “No, I’m f****** fuming! I’ve got customers to serve. I’m hanging up now.”

The next day, the other supervisor is laughing about how funny it was that her aunt was in the store when she pulled her April Fool’s joke.

Me: “Well, thanks, but I didn’t find it funny, especially when [Manager] was abusing me and accusing me of lying!”