(This is my third day at this job and I am still in training, out stocking the floor and familiarizing myself with the layout. Adjacent to the bakery is the wine section.)

Woman: *approaches me* “Hello, I’d like some help with choosing a wine?”

Me: “Wine?” *notices* “Oh, that. Well, unfortunately, I don’t know anything about wine.”

Woman: “What? You do work here, right?”

Me: “Well, yes, but I’ve just started and wine isn’t my section.”

Woman: “How can you not know your own store?!”

Me: “Miss, this is my third day. I haven’t even shopped here before!”

Woman: “I don’t care HOW new you are; you should learn things!” *storms off*

(I was three syllables from telling her that I have a friend who works here as well and went to culinary school, took classes in wine, and could help her out, but she left too quickly.)

(This happens right during the week of the Boston Marathon bombing and the day after the whole city and the surrounding towns were required to stay closed due to a manhunt of the bomber. There are announcements everywhere on the news the day before and cop cars telling us to stay indoors. This is what happens the day after.)

Me: *looking at a book of cake orders* “Uh oh, looks like we have a cake order today.”

(We make cake orders usually the day before and freeze it since they’re purely made out of mousse.)

Manager: “Oh, okay, let me call the customer since we were closed all day yesterday. I’m sure they’ll understand since we had a situation yesterday.”

(The manager goes away to call the customer but comes back shaking his head.)

Manager: “Wow, I can’t believe it. She was really upset.”

(A few minutes later, the customer comes in.)

Customer: “I can’t believe it! Why didn’t you call me yesterday?”

Manager: “We were closed yesterday due to the bombing…”

Customer: “Well, you should have called! I was telling my sister how your cakes are great and now we can’t get the one we ordered? How unprofessional of you! Now I’m going to have to drive to Connecticut without one and ruin their son’s birthday! ”

Manager: “You know, I’m sure YOUR sister will understand since Boston was closed down yesterday. Have a nice day!”

(We did let her choose a cake that we already had in the store afterwards… but this situation really put a damper on all of us the rest of the day in the bakery…)

(I work in the bakery department of a rather large supermarket chain. We are one of the few remaining chains in the area with a fresh bakery: our breads are made from scratch every morning. We have a particularly smug customer who always thinks he is right about everything. Normally he complains about the prices on products, expecting the prices to never change… ever.)

Customer: “Do you have any Mountain Bread?”

(This type of bread is a round loaf cut in a particular way with flour on top to make it look like the snow on a mountain. It is extremely popular.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but we ran sold out of that today. But if you would like to buy this loaf here—” *I gesture to an Italian loaf* “—it is the exact same bread. It is just a different shape.”

Customer: “No, it isn’t! It tastes completely different. The dough is nothing alike!”

Me: “I assure you sir, they are exactly the same.”

Customer: “NO, THEY AREN’T! I KNOW MY BREAD AND THESE ARE NOT THE SAME! WHAT DO YOU KNOW?! I’M AN EXPERT WITH BREAD!”

Me: “And I know MY bread as I made these both this very morning, and I assure you the dough for both is made in one giant batch. We set aside some of it to make into round Mountain loafs and some of it to be set aside for the more standard Italian loaves. It is the exact same dough; the only difference is that the Mountain bread gets flour on top. That is it.”

Customer: “YOU’RE WRONG! THE DOUGH IS NOTHING ALIKE!”

Me: *fed up* “How about you try a piece?”

(I take a loaf from the shelf and offer him a slice. He takes the slice and takes a bite.)

Customer: “…I guess it is close… BUT IT’S NOT THE SAME!” *he takes a loaf and leaves*

Me: *to a coworker* “What part of I MADE THIS and IT COMES FROM THE SAME BATCH was so hard to understand?”

Coworker: “Some people are just dense…”

(The customer still shops in my store, though he hasn’t had any big issues like this in quite some time.)

(We’re a family business, and dad is serving at the counter while I’m packing up, as it’s late and we are nearing closing time. A customer storms in, holding a cake box, which would have held a cake serving 20-30 people.)

Customer: “Look, we just got this cake from you, and it was awful!”

Dad: “No problem. What was wrong with it?”

Customer: “It was stale. Like it had been sitting in the fridge for days!”

Dad: “Sorry to hear that. Can I take a look at it?”

(Dad opens the cake box to reveal barely one slice of the cake left.)

Dad: “…what happened to the rest of it?”

Customer: “Well, obviously we ate it all!”

Dad: “Seriously?”

Customer: “Yes! I want my money back! You ruined our party!”

Dad: “Sorry, but I can’t do that. And get the h*** out of my shop!”

(I work in a location of a popular bakery chain. Occasionally, we have a customer who comes to us trying to get bread that was bought outside of our store sliced by us. We can’t allow that because of food safety concerns. I have just finished up with a lady and am putting her money in the till when a customer tries to flag my attention before the other customers.)

Me: “One second, ma’am.”

(The customer huff impatiently and I put away the money. I smile at her to show her she has my attention.)

Me: “How can I help you today?”

Customer: “Finally. Well, I bought this loaf and I forgot to get it cut, you see, and I was wondering if you could just throw it in your slicer there.”

(I assume she is a customer we had just served in our rush who has come back, before I notice that the loaf actually belongs to another popular bakery chain.)

Me: “Oh ma’am, I’m sorry, but I can’t take your bread.”

Customer: “I just want it sliced. I don’t care how you do it.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I really can’t do that. It’s a safety issue. I mean, I don’t think that you or the bakery has put anything in the bread, but we just can’t take the chance.”

Customer: “But it’s your bread!”

Me: “Actually, it comes from [other popular bakery chain].”

Customer: “Yes!” *explaining it slowly* “And you’re all part of the same company.”

Me: “Actually that’s not quite true, you see—”

Customer: “Look, are you going to slice this bread or not?!”

(I look at my supervisor, who shakes her head.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Customer: “Fine! Well I guess I won’t buying anything from here again!” *storms off with her unsliced bread*

Supervisor: “You didn’t buy anything from us to begin with!”