I was switching between the register and customer service. An older lady came in with her grandchildren, wanting to find a gift for the older boy. I gave a few suggestions at her request, but she shut down all my attempts. I let her do her thing and choose for herself. Finally, after shuffling through everything, she went to pay.

Customer: “I’d like the points on my [Store] account.”

Me: “You have a $2 discount, but sadly, this item is non-discountable because of the brand.”

She was not happy. She raised her voice.

Customer: “Why do I have so little saved up?!”

Me: “The only way to have points is to buy stuff more often.”

The price was $23. She leaned in and asked, in a hushed tone:

Customer: “Could you do me a favor, since I’m a very good client?” *She’s not.*

Seeing as I wouldn’t budge regarding the discount, she angrily threw the toy.

Customer: *To me.* “You’re not very bright!” *To her grandson.* “It’s too expensive! Choose something else!”

The child had a tantrum and threw himself down. After everything calmed down, she went to pay for a different toy. I scanned it, and it was $25. 

This time I could apply the $2. 

She looked smug.

Customer: “Now I can have my points!”

So… this lady really made a scene to finally pay the same amount that was “too expensive” minutes ago?!

Well, that was a weird day.

Me: *Holding up a pack of wine coolers.* “You got your ID for the alcohol?”

Customer: “Yeah, but we’re not scanning it.”

Me: *Keying in the birth date while wondering where the “we” in this equation comes from.* “Sure, no problem.”

Customer: *To an older lady with him, as I’m calling for an override.* “I don’t let them scan my driver’s license because I keep getting their emails.”

The customer then proceeds to enter his store rewards card, which asks for an email when you sign up for it.

Sometimes I think I need hazard pay for all the tongue-biting I do around here.

I’m making small talk with a customer while I am applying a tattoo.

Me: “This is your fifth tattoo, yeah?”

Customer: “That’s right.”

Me: “So you don’t need me to explain the procedure of keeping the skin clean and how to avoid infection as the skin heals?”

Customer: “Yeah, you’re good. My skin heals super-fast anyway. Good genetics.”

Me: “That’s… cool. You must be descended from Wolverine!” *Laughs.*

Customer: “Oh, is that because if you go far back enough, we all came from wolves?”

Me: “Uh… that’s dogs. And I was talking about Wolverine, the character. The one who has super-fast healing?”

Customer: “Oh. I thought we all came from wolves. I hear that from my friends all the time.”

Me: “Maybe start fact-checking your friends…?”

I spent ten years conducting English-speaking tours of the Colosseum in Rome, Italy. This was the one question I got from a tourist that stumped me in all that time:

Tourist: “Is this where Jesus fought the lions?”

Me: “I… uh… no.”

Tourist: *Disappointed.* “Oh.”

The tourist’s spouse then chastised her:

Tourist’s Spouse: “Don’t be ridiculous. Everyone knows that happened in Jerusalem.”

Tourist: “Oh yeah!”

Some of the other tourists are chuckling at the interaction. One of the teenage boys says:

Teenage Boy Tourist: “That sounds like a bad-a** movie!”

I couldn’t help but agree!

I get a call from a potential guest at the hotel.

Caller: “Is your hotel pet-friendly?”

Me: “Yes, we are. We do charge a small fee, though.”

Caller: “That’s fine. Can I bring my bird?”

Me: “Yes, as long as it’s kept in a cage while inside the hotel.”

Caller: “Ugh, that’s what the last place said! I don’t have a cage for my bird!”

Me: “Well, as cute as it is having a bird sitting on someone’s shoulder, we can’t risk them flying around the hotel.”

Caller: “My bird is flightless!”

Me: *Laughs.* “Haha, are you bringing a penguin?”

Caller: “Excuse me! Larry is an Ostrich!”

Me: “An… Ostrich?”

Caller: “Yes!”

Me: “World’s largest bird? Almost three meters tall? That Ostrich?”

Caller: “Yes! Why does no one let me bring my Larry? I see people with their big dogs all the time!”

Me: “Ma’am, we do allow dogs, but if a guest showed up with Clifford the big red dog, we’d have an issue.”

The caller tried to reason more with me, but I explained that our rooms are not designed to handle 100kg birds with two-meter wingspans. She told me Larry was “just a baby,” but that doesn’t change the fact that she was trying to bring a farm animal into one of our rooms. 

Although I did enjoy her tidbit of information that the only reason she fostered an ostrich (Larry was an exotic pet rescue) was because her emu was getting too sassy and needed to be brought down a peg or two. Her homestead must be a riot.

Still amazes me that a woman with a big bird license and all the complicated know-how on how to raise exotic big birds… just assumed you could bring one to a hotel as a pet.