Recently, the home-brand cereal has changed from a cardboard box to a plastic bag.

Customer: “Where are the cardboard box ones?”

I explained to her the situation.

Customer: “I hope you’re f****** happy! You’ve just ruined my week!”

She then THREW the plastic bag of cereal at me and stormed off.

Our big box store often hosts a Halloween event where different stations are set up around the store and kids can come and trick-or-treat inside. It is always really popular, and we love to see all the kids in costumes.

One year, we have a Paw Patrol theme for some of the things we hand out. At one point, a woman stops me.

Customer: “When does Paw Patrol arrive?”

Me: “Oh, that’s just the theme this year. We aren’t going to have any of the characters here to meet the kids.”

She leaves, but later on, I do see a mascot character interacting with guests. I feel bad because I genuinely didn’t know but am curious as to who got stuck having to be in the costume. I end up asking my friend who was assigned to a table in the back if she knew who it was.

Coworker: “I honestly have no idea. I didn’t know we were going to have a meet and greet. Go see if you can find out; now I’m curious, too.”

I end up finding the store manager and asking him.

Manager: “I honestly have no idea who that is.”

Me: “What?! What do you mean?! So that’s just some random person?!”

Manager: “Yeah. One of the parents showed up in costume with their kid and ended up just taking pictures and meeting all the kids. If they hadn’t arrived with a kid, I probably would have kicked them out.”

Me: “We can agree it’s a little weird, right?”

Manager: “Oh, no, it’s totally weird.”

I’m working at a Halloween store. Close to closing time, this woman and her son come in to browse the racks. The woman comes up right before we close to purchase a few Hocus Pocus-themed items. We ring up her purchase and wait for her to pay.

Customer: “I refuse to pay with a card! You could steal my information and sell it!”

Me: “That’s okay, ma’am. We do take cash.”

Customer: “I don’t have enough cash, but my husband can bring cash tomorrow if you’ll hold my items.”

Me: “Okay. Can I have your husband’s name, please?”

Customer: “I don’t want to give that out.”

Me: “Can I have your name, then?”

Customer: “Why do you want such personal information?!”

Me: “We can’t hold any items unless we have a first and last name for them.”

She reaches into her wallet, takes out a few dollars, and throws them in the air while saying in a sing-song voice:

Customer: “A penny for your thoughts!”

And then, she walked out with her son. My manager and I just stood there super confused for a good five minutes before laughing. No, she didn’t take the merchandise with her, thankfully.

It is Halloween, and the staff is dressed in scary(ish) costumes to celebrate the fun.

Customer: “What are you supposed to be?”

Me: “Oh, I’m a character from a popular anime out at the moment. It’s called Demon Slayer.”

Customer: *Narrows eyes* “Are you one of the good guys?”

Me: “Yes, I’m dressed as one of the good guys.”

Customer: “So, you slay the demons?”

Me: “…The character I am dressed up as does, yes.”

Customer: “Good, then I can buy from you. I couldn’t shop at my usual store because the checkout clerk there was dressed as a Ghostbuster.”

Me: “Aren’t they the good guys, as well?”

Customer: “No! They swear too much! Also, they might accidentally capture the Holy Ghost, and I just can’t risk it.”

She made absolutely zero indication that she was joking about any of this. Either she’s a fantastic deadpan comedian, or she was serious.

I work in politics, taking calls from the constituents of our MP (Member of Parliament). Our MP has recently won an election. I take a call from an angry woman.

Caller: “I’m never going to vote for you again!”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that, madam. Can I ask why you have changed your mind?”

Caller: “Because [MP] voted yes to bringing in a whole lot of refugees! I saw them on the news! They’re all men!”

Me: “Well, I don’t know what news channel you watch, but—”

Caller: “You don’t understand! It’s too many new men! My son still lives with me! He’s thirty years old and he already can’t get a date!”

Me: “I… am sorry to hear that.”

Caller: “You tell [MP] that as long as my son is single, she won’t get my vote!” *Click*

Yes, I’ll be sure she includes that as an urgent item on her next manifesto.