We have a lot of different types of sales running at the moment, and a few of the coupons can’t combine. I am checking out a customer and try to explain this.

Me: “Sir, just so you know I can only apply these two coupons together. This third one won’t work with this purchase but you can save it for the next one.”

Customer: “Okay, I’m gonna need you to be on my level with me here. It’s okay, you didn’t know, but now you do, so you need to be on my level with me, okay?”

Uh… what?

Me: “Yes… sir? So, you want to use these two coupons only?”

Customer: “No, all three! I thought you were on my level with me.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but it’s either these two together, or just this one. I can’t combine all three.”

Customer: “That’s not quite my level though, is it? Look, you didn’t know before, but now you do. I’m like… up here.” *He gestures high up.* “And you’re like, down here.” *He gestures low down.* “I’m gonna need you to get on my level and make all three of those coupons work, okay?”

Me: “Sir, I—”

Customer: “Get on my lev—”

At this point my checkout manager, who had come over to check on something speaks over him.

Checkout Manager: “—Oh my god, if you say “get on my level” one more time I am personally cancelling your entire transaction! Two coupons, or just this one. That’s it! No other options! You’re not on a level, you’re on a downward spiral, so get off it and pick one!”

The customer was too shocked to combat this, and so we applied the two coupons and he left in silence. The next customer starts pushing through their items.

Next Customer: *Gesturing to the leaving customer.* “Thank God! I thought he might have been having a stroke!”

My morning started off with a heartbeat skipping; my boyfriend called me to tell me he had lost my debit card at the store. Thankfully, he found it in the car.

Later, my boss came in to walk an insurance agent around the hotel. This was the result of an incident where a college kid decided to clean off his gun with a bullet still in the chamber, ending with the gun going off and the bullet going through our water main pipe, flooding all four floors of the hotel.

While they were walking around, [Boss]’s father and brother came in and asked me where he was. With how long the week has been at work due to the flooding, I really wanted to say, “Yes, of course, let me pull out my tracking device to see where he is,” but I called [Boss] instead.

Not even five minutes later, I had two more guys, mechanics, walk up looking for [Boss], as well.

Within the next thirty minutes, [Boss]’s father slowly walked back up to me, stood one step away from me — awkward — and started asking me questions. He asked how many checkouts there were, how many arrivals there were today, and whether we were busy. Then, he asked me why we stopped serving coffee. We didn’t; we only serve it for breakfast due to the health crisis, but the guests have coffee machines and packets in the rooms.

I took a step back, only for him to take another step closer to me. It was extremely awkward. After about a minute of silence, he finally started walking away, but he instantly walked back and stood right next to me again. After about another minute, he finally let me be and sat in the lobby.

So, now I had [Boss]’s father and two mechanics just staring at me.

Then, the phone rang.

Caller: “How many rooms can I reserve?”

Me: “Eighty.”

There are eighty total rooms in the hotel.

Caller: “JEEZUS! I don’t need that many!”

Me: “Well, how many would you like?”

We work the front desk; we don’t mind read how many rooms you want over the phone. Know what you’re asking before you ask, simple as that.

The same caller called back about an hour later.

Caller: “Do you have availability for a block of rooms for [Month]? I’m not sure how many people I’ll have, but it’s for a wedding.”

Me: “Our sales manager will be in tomorrow morning; that’s who you’ll want to talk to.”

Almost two hours later, the same person walked into the hotel.

Caller: “Can I make a block of rooms for a wedding in [Month]? I’m not sure what date, and I don’t know how many rooms yet.”

I just told her the same thing I did on the phone and gave her the sales manager’s business card.

I work in retail. My shift lead, my manager, and I were working the closing shift together last week. I had just finished helping receive a shipment and was stocking the shelves, the lead was manning the service desk, and my manager was doing a walk-through of the store. We were the only three people in the store that night, and it’s a big store. None of us could see each other, and none of us except my boss had walkie-talkies. (That was a mistake!)

I finished what I was doing on the sales floor and came up to the front desk to talk to my shift lead. He grabbed me by the arm and said in a low voice:

Shift Lead: “Go find [Manager], now!“

It was out of the ordinary and super creepy.

Me: “What? Is she okay? What’s going on?”

Shift Lead: “Just go find [Manager], and be quiet about it. There’s a very sketchy-looking customer standing near the double doors with a cart full of merchandise, and I’m afraid he’s going to run out with it.”

I went to find my manager, and I had to pass the guy on the way. I put on my fake customer service voice.

Me: “How’s your night going? Are you finding everything okay?”

Customer: *Staring at me* “Yeah, I’m fine, thanks.”

Once I was out of eyesight, I ran to the back room and found my boss. I told her what was going on, and we walked together to the foyer.

Shift Lead: “The guy ran out the door, and he left the cart.”

I started to go out the first set of automatic doors with my phone in hand to see if I could get a picture of the guy, his car, or his license plates.

Manager: “Hey, don’t chase him.”

Me: “Yeah yeah, I know, I’ll be careful.”

My dumb a** started walking out the second set of automatic doors to the parking lot when my boss YELLED at me:

Manager: “DO NOT GO OUTSIDE!”

She never, ever yells, so it scared me. I turned around and came back inside, and my manager escorted me back into the store and away from the windows.

Manager: “That guy was sitting in his car with the lights off, staring at you. There was someone in the passenger seat, and they were staring at you, too!”

I had seen the car in the lot but didn’t think anyone was in it. I don’t know how she saw the guy in there, but I’m glad she did.

My manager ended up locking the doors, even though it was still thirty minutes to close. She then rang up the guy’s cart, and it was over $850 worth of booze. We went to her office and filled out a report.

Once everyone’s shifts had ended, we walked together to our cars; nobody really wanted to be alone in the parking lot that night.

I’ve seen shoplifters, and I’ve seen sketchy customers come in near closing, but this guy was really weird. He gave off a really creepy vibe and scared the s*** out of my boss and me, and neither of us scare easily.

I work at a mid-tier extended-stay hotel. Most of our extended-stay guests are government workers, and with them being here for months at a time, you develop a good relationship with them — if you’re lucky!

One of these guests is super nice. She’s always outside smoking whenever I pop out on a smoke break. We tell each other our life stories and talk about our cats. She sometimes comes up to the front and chats, too. It makes the nights go by smoothly.

One night, she comes up to the desk while my assistant general manager and I are working the 3:00 to 11:00 shift. She looks… embarrassed? Shocked? It’s not an expression I’ve seen on her face before. She’s former military, and she looks and sounds like the type of lady who has chain-smoked Marlboros for forty years.

Guest: “Can you come down to my room? I had an accident in there.”

I trot down the hall with her because we have good relationship. I’m figuring it’s something minor — she knocked over a lamp or broke a dish or something. No big deal; it’s a quiet night and I’m bored. She opens the door and, dear readers, the first words out of my mouth are:

Me: “Holy s***.”

There is a g**d*** gunshot through her window.

She was cleaning her gun, checked the chamber, took out the clip, and still had the bright idea to point it at the window and PULL THE TRIGGER. On the FIRST FLOOR. She’s government and former military, and she still did that! I don’t know what that hotel uses for soundproofing, but she is on the first floor and we didn’t hear it at the front desk. That baffles me to this day.

Realizing this is above my paygrade, I go back and tell my assistant general manager to take a look at the room. He comes back shaking his head, muttering something about, “I hate my job.”

Unsurprisingly, she does not remain a guest for very long. Her department “reassigns” her and pays for the window, and we never see her again.

Of course, we have guests ask about what happened to the window. My general manager has instructed all of us to say, “A lawnmower sent a rock through the window.”

I told that to one guest, and he looked suspicious.

Guest #2: “It looks like a bullet went through it.”

Me: *Laughs* “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?”

I’m working in a hardware store in Germany. A lady approaches me and speaks with a French accent.

French Lady: “Excuse me. Could I ask you something?”

Me: “Yes, how can I help you?”

French Lady: “I was wondering if I could also use this wallpaper here to paper a French room?”

Me: “Excuse me, but what is a French room?”

French Lady: “Well, a room in France!”

She’s looking at me like I am the dumba** here.

I go silent for a second. I think about telling her that this wallpaper is a German one, so it is only applicable in Germany, but I discard this idea.

Me: “Yes, you can use it.” *Quickly walks away*