For about two years, I worked at a small gas station that was part of a Midwest supermarket.

I worked the evening shifts and doors were locked at twelve. I had to operate out of a rotating window and a faulty speaker, catering to boozy customers. The most memorable night I can recall is when I discovered that the lock on the door was faulty.

I found this out when a lady pushed her way into the store at 3:00 am. There were two feet of snow on the ground outside and she was wearing a micro-skirt, a bikini top, a fake fur jacket that stopped above her midriff, and Uggs. I say this not to shame her, but to illustrate the scene that followed.

The girl was obviously intoxicated, and I was pretty unnerved, not knowing what to do about the lady and thinking about how I could be fired for someone being in the building, even though it was not my fault.

After repeatedly telling the lady that she could not be in the building and that she had to go outside, which she ignored, she stumbled over to the nacho and chili stand.

Customer: “I want nachos! I can get this cheese, right?”

Me: “Uh, Yeah… I guess.”

At this point, I just wanted her to get what she wanted and leave.

She proceeded to fill up a whole nacho tray with cheese, and then she tottered toward my register. Halfway to my register, she spilled some cheese down her BARE stomach. She then proceeded to scoop some of the cheese off and lick it as though she was part of an X-rated film while staring drunkenly at me.

After this tasting, she looked confused and angry. She placed the chips and cheese on the counter in front of the register and proceeded to get mildly belligerent.

Customer: “You didn’t tell me this cheese had spice in it! I am allergic to spice! Why would you do this to me?”

Me: “Ma’am, all nacho cheese is mildly spicy. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but since you already dispensed it, you have to pay for it.”

Customer: “But I’m allergic to spice!”

She said this while scooping more of the cheese out of the tray and attempting to perform another X-rated gesture with her cheese-covered finger.

Me: “It comes out to [total]. Is that all you want?”

Customer: “But it has spice!“

Me: “And you’re still eating it. Pay up and get out.”

She then paid for the nachos and wove her way out of the gas station. Thinking that it was over, I exhaled and made sure the door was firmly locked this time.

Ten minutes passed and I saw her vehicle pull in front of pump one. After attempting the door three times and discovering that it was locked, she went over to the window.

Customer: “I need a refund. You sold me spicy nachos and I’m allergic to spice!”

Now, as a particular stipulation, I was not allowed to give refunds from the gas station. I needed manager permission to give a refund, and since I worked alone locked in the building on midnights, the customer had to go up to the main store, which was open twenty-four-seven, and go to the service desk to get a refund.

I explained this to her, and it took many times to get it through to her that I could not possibly help her at that point.

She was still mad, and she decided that the proper response was to take what was left of the cheese — only about a quarter of it — and smear it along the store’s window, spelling out, “F*** YU ND UR SPISY CHEZ!” Then, she drove off.

When my coworker came to relieve me in the morning, I told him the story. He barely believed me, and he made me scrub off the half-frozen cheese. I wish I had a hidden camera for this experience, but it’s mind-boggling and worth sharing.

I’m glad that I stopped working there. This is only one of the many horrible memories I have associated with the place, but at least this one is amusing.

I work in a hotel. A guest is checking out.

Me: “May I have your key card, please?”

Guest: “Not unless you promise to destroy it. Right here, in front of me. I don’t want my personal information getting out!”

For some reason, he actually believed that hotels put his personal information on a $.35 piece of plastic.

I work in a hotel. After a room checked out, an employee from housekeeping came to speak to me.

Employee: “The guests in room [number] stole every single lightbulb in the room! They took them from all the lamps. They even crawled up onto the sink to take down the bulbs in the bathroom!”

That was the craziest theft I’d ever heard in this job!

I used to work for a hospitality supply company, and I’m on the phone with a customer who runs a hotel.

Customer: “We need to order a new mattress. A guest stole one. They shoved it out the window into a waiting pickup truck.”

Why on earth would you even want a used hotel mattress?!

I work in a thrift shop. The majority of our customers are senior citizens, so I’m pretty used to having to explain what certain things we have for sale are used for.

One day, an older woman comes up to me holding a knife sharpener.

Customer: “Do you know what this is?”

I start to explain what it is, and she shakes her head.

Customer: “I know what it is. I’m asking if you know.”

I’m a little confused at this point, but I nod.

Me: “Yes, I know what a knife sharpener is.”

She closes her eyes and nods again.

Customer: “Sharp knives are good. You’re going to need one soon.”

And she just walked off. That was the single most cryptic thing anyone had ever said to me and I think about it quite often. Why am I gonna need a sharp knife soon? Why was she concerned about whether I knew what a knife sharpener was? To this day, I’m convinced she’s a witch.