I am looking for a specific comic book that recently came out, so I’m going to various comic book stores in the area. I see one I’ve never been to before, “[Name] Comics & Games.” I pull into the parking lot, open the door, and freeze when there are clearly no comics in sight. The place is pretty bare, mostly empty folding tables and chairs. Three people are sitting at one of the tables staring at me.

Employee: “Uh, can we help you?”

Me: “Um, I’m looking for a comic by [Comic Book Artist]–”

Employee: “Yeah, well, we don’t carry comics.”

The employee stares like I walked into a hardware store and asked where they keep the milk.

Me: “Uh… Okay. Thanks.”

I walked outside and double-checked the sign, and yep, it said, “[Name] Comics & Games.”

Apparently, it’s a trading card game shop that also carries some collectibles, but surely they realize that having “COMICS” in their NAME is going to lead to a lot of people coming in looking for comics, right?

Sometimes, customers just want to wind you up. Good naturedly, of course. 

I am sitting at my till on a quiet Wednesday afternoon. I turn to my supervisor and ask her if she needs me somewhere else or not. The answer is no, so I turn back around. A customer comes striding up to me from the wrong end of the till. I assume he has a query, a return, or a complaint. He begins this conversation in a loud voice.

Customer: “I saw you talking to her! What made you talk to her?”

Me: “I was clarifying my position with the store, sir.”

Customer: “And what made you ask her?”

Me: “Because she is my supervisor, sir. That is what supervisors do. If customers are kings, then managers are queens.”

It is clear by now that this customer is joking and looking for a bit of banter. A woman approaches my till from the usual side with a trolley of groceries. From the look she gives the man, it is clear they are together, and it’s clear she’s all too used to this behaviour.

The man is laughing himself red at my perplexed tone. I play along, speaking very formally and very slowly. Posh, but with a good dose of indulgent boredom.

Me: “Why does this amuse you, sir?”

Customer: “Well, don’t you have anything better to do?”

Me: “Oh, not at all, sir. Mine not to reason why, after all. Mine but to scan or die.”

The man stops in his tracks and a wicked smile comes over his face. He settles on the end of the till and leans forward to engage with me. It is very clear he is joking and relishing the opportunity of a willing opponent.

Customer: “So, what you’re saying is, instead of serving a customer, like myself, you were gossiping with your colleagues, instead?”

Me: “Indeed no, sir. I was busy doing nothing, you see.”

Customer: “Not working the whole day through?”

Female Customer: *Looking up* “Trying to find lots of things not do?”

The male customer is gesturing angrily at me, but grinning.

Customer: “Look, she’s busy doing nothing! Isn’t it just a crime?!”

Me: “It’s a shame because—” *breaking out into song!* “—I’d like to be unhappy, but I simply can’t find the time!”

Whatever the man expected, he didn’t expect that. He bends over double, trying to contain his laughter. 

Me: “Why are you kneeling? I am no Goddess, sir. I am on a chair, not a pedestal.”

Female Customer: *smiling at me* “You shouldn’t talk to strange men, darling!”

Me: “I never do, ma’am; strange men talk to me. I did not initiate conversation with this gentleman. He did that all by himself.”

The man recovers a little and grabs a packet of blueberries.

Customer: “Did you see the way she threw this down the slope? You’ve bruised all my berries, you have!”

Me: “Sir, that is called gravity. It affects everything.”

Customer: “Including you?”

Me: “No, sir. That is called gravitas.”

The man disappears from my view again, and I can hear wheezing laughter coming from under the till. The lady heaves him up to help pack their items. The man strokes the end of the till.

Customer: “I like your curved end here! Very pleasant to hold!”

This earns him a hiss and a smack from the lady, but I just give him my best withering look. 

Me: “If customers are kings and managers are queens, then I, naught but a humble cashier, am no pawn, sir.”

The man doubles up again, almost choking on his laughter. The lady packs the last few items and pays and the man still can’t draw breath. The lady looks at me, grinning from ear to ear. 

Female Customer: “Well done. Thank you for coping with that idiot. The last shop person he tried it on… I can never go back.”

Me: “Ma’am, the best defense against idiocy is dignity. Here is your receipt. I wish you good luck for the rest. Please feel free to come back to me any time.”

The man finally stops laughing and wipes the tears from his eyes.

Customer: *To the [Female Customer]* “That was magnificent. Just amazing. We need to come here again, love.”

Both shake my hand. The man pretends to kiss it. As they walk out the door, I see the man punching the air, still grinning. My colleague in front of me has been listening all this time and trying not to giggle while serving her own line. 

Colleague: *To me* “Wow. Wow! You always attract the weirdos!”

Me: *Laughing* “Gotta keep my sanity in this job somehow!”

It is 2013. I am a cashier at a local supermarket. I’ve been checking people out and everything is going well. Then, a lady about my mom’s age comes up with a bottle of A1 sauce. 

Customer: “Hello, my husband told me to buy this and I want to make sure it’s not $6000.”

She points to a sticker on the cap that is most likely part of a scanner code.

Me: “Ma’am, I assure you that it’s not $6000. It won’t even be six dollars.”

Customer: “Well, you never know with this shutdown that’s going on. Obama and you guys are jacking up prices of stuff.”

I scan the bottle and it comes up as $1.50.

Customer: “Oh, is that all?! Why would you put a label that said that it cost $6000? You might upset people.”

Me: “I don’t know, ma’am.”

Customer: “Well, you need to be careful. You might upset the wrong person. I am an ex-lawyer and someone could sue you over these labeled prices.”

She pays and leaves. A little old lady is next in line.

Little Old Lady: “She’s lucky she’s pretty because she’s a stupid a**.”

I work as a customer service rep at a call center for a major wireless carrier in the USA.

Me: “Thank you for calling [Wireless Company]. My name is [My Name]. May I have your first and last name, please?”

Customer: “Yeah, I don’t have no account with y’all but, I just bought this phone off a girl and I need it unlocked.”

Me: “Unlocked?”

Customer: “Yeah. She said she was really intoxicated when she changed the lock pattern and we tried it a few times and she can’t remember what it is. She told me to call the number under the battery and y’all would tell me how to unlock it.”

Me: “So, you bought it from someone who forgot their lock pattern? Is the phone still on their account?”

Customer: “Naw, she said she didn’t have enough money to turn it back on, so she sold it to me, but she was real intoxicated when she changed the pattern and now we can’t unlock it.”

Me: “Is she there with you?”

Customer: “Naw, she an’ her boyfriend already left.”

Me: “All right, well, let me see what I can do. I’ll be honest; this sounds a little strange, so I’m worried the phone might be stolen.”

Customer: “Stolen? Well, is there any way I can still use it?”

Me: “If it’s been reported as lost or stolen then no, we wouldn’t be able to activate it on another service.”

I get the device ID number and check it out, and sure enough, it comes up on another person’s account. They’ve already claimed it as lost or stolen and a replacement from the insurance company has been sent out.

Me: “Yeah, I’m sorry, that phone is reported as lost or stolen. What I’d recommend would be to take it into a [Company] store or to a police station and turn it in.”

Customer: “I’m new to this area so I don’t know where a store is.”

Me: “I can look that up; what’s the zip code?”

Customer: “I don’t know what it is; I’m stayin’ with a friend.”

Me: “Okay, and you can’t get a zip code?”

Customer: “Well, I’m stayin’ at a shelter.”

Me: “Do you know the shelter’s zip code?”

Customer: “Yeah, but I can’t give that out ‘cause it’s a shelter for domestic violence.”

Me: “All right, do you know what city it is?”

Customer: “[City].”

Me: “What state is that in?”

Customer: “Nebraska.”

Me: “All right, we don’t have a direct store there, but I can look up an authorized dealer.”

Customer: “Can I just take it to the Po-lice?”

Me: “Yes, you can.”

Customer: “Think the owner will give me a reward for findin’ it?”

Me: “I can’t say; that’s up to them, if they decide to claim it. I can note on the account where you’re taking it. So, it’d be at the police station in [City], Nebraska, right?”

Customer: “Iowa!”

Me: “Okay, [City], Iowa.”

Customer: “Yeah… I paid $75.00 for this phone. You sure they won’t give me my money back?”

Me: “Well, you can take it to the police and file a report, and if they catch the girl who sold it to you, then you could probably get it back, but I honestly don’t know how else you would.”

Customer: “Can you ask the owner if they’ll give me money back?”

Me: “No… No, I can’t ask that. If they do, that’s up to them.”

Customer: “I really wish I could get my money back for buyin’ this phone, but I’ll take it in to the police station. You gonna tell the owners I found it?”

Me: “Noted on the account that it’s at a police station in [City], Iowa.”

Customer: “NEBRASKA!”

Me: “Nebraska? You said Iowa.”

Customer: “It is Iowa!”

Me: “All right, so [City], Iowa, right?”

Customer: “YES! Man, I could really have used that $75.00.”

Me: “Sorry about that. Anything else I can help you with?”

Customer: “Naw, unless you can gimme my $75.00 back.”

Me: “Sorry. Next time, call us before you actually buy the phone, okay?”

Customer: “I can do that?”

Me: “Yep… it prevents things like this.”

Customer: “Oh. Well, y’all should advertise that on the phones or somethin’.”

Me: “I’ll pass that along. Have a good night!”

I’m looking for a used phone on a social media marketplace. It’s a temporary replacement until payday, so I’m not looking for anything fancy. I find one simply listed as “[Brand] phone – $50”. It has a picture of the phone, but nothing that states the model, year, operating system, condition, or even size of the phone. From the picture, I can’t see any cracks or cosmetic damage, so I decide to message the seller for more information.

Me: “Hello! I saw your listing and was hoping to find out the generation and condition?”

Seller: “[Brand].”

Me: “Yes, I see it’s a [Brand]. What kind is it, though? A [top-tier model]? A [lower-tier model]? How old is the phone?”

Seller: “You wanna buy it?”

Me: “I’m interested. If I can get some more information…?”

The seller then calls me via the chatting/selling app. I get a creepy gut feeling and don’t answer. Once he hangs up, I message him through our conversation.

Me: “I’d like some more information before I call. I know it’s a [Brand], but what kind?”

As I am typing my next message, the seller calls again. He calls twice more. At this point, I’ve decided I’m no longer interested. He sends me a large emoji of a thumbs up.

Seller: “You want the phone or not?”

Me: “Not anymore. I was hoping to find out more information before I decided whether or not to buy, but it’s no longer necessary. Thank you for your time.”

He calls again, but this time he leaves a voice message.

Seller: *Static, shuffling* “Bruh! You want this phone or not? It ain’t that hard! So, you gonna buy it today? Where you wanna meet up?” *Pauses and smacks lips* “Man! I ain’t got time for this! You want it or nah?!” *Click*

At this point, I decided my gut feeling was right and I was scared. I blocked the seller before he could call or message me again. The next day, my boyfriend found a great deal on two used phones that ended up being upgrades for both of us.