A customer calls during a pizza rush.

Me: “Thank you for calling [Business]. This is [My Name]. What can I get for you today?”

Customer: “Uh, yeah, I wanna get a pizza, the biggest size you have, with [toppings].”

Me: “All right, so that’s a family size pizza with [toppings].”

Customer: “Uh, what?”

I repeat the order.

Customer: “Well, hey, uh, I’m not sure.”

The customer talks to her boyfriend in the background.

Customer: “I’m just scared I’m gonna come in and you’re not gonna have my order correct and I’m paying for some s*** I didn’t ask for.”

Me: “Well, if you could confirm that the order I have down is correct, we can verify it before any mishap.”

Customer: “You know what, just forget about it! Ugh! How hard is it to place an order?! FORGET IT!”

The customer hangs up on me. Twenty minutes later, the same customer calls back and makes a complaint to my boss about how rude I was to her.

Boss: “I heard the entire conversation. She was an a**hole; you’re not in trouble. Way to handle it.”

It is the day before Mother’s Day, and since we have a flower department, we have a ton of deliveries for a lot of different orders going out over the next couple of days. One customer approaches me while I’m outside by our Adirondack chairs.

Customer: “I’d like to get two Adirondack chairs delivered to my house tomorrow morning, please.”

Me: “Well, we can get that out tomorrow, but since we have so many other orders I can’t guarantee it’ll get out in the morning; it’ll just have to go out whenever we get the chance. Is that okay?”

Customer: “Okay.”

He follows me inside and I place the order in the system for him.

Me: “All right, you’re all set. Have a good day!”

He continues to wander around the store for a bit, and I run outside to mark off the chairs he wanted for delivery. As he’s leaving the store, he passes by me again.

Customer: “When your boss is asleep tonight, whisper my name in her ear so she thinks of me and sends my chairs first thing in the morning.”

Me: *Pause* “Have a great day!” *Hurries back inside*

I’ve been wanting a scroll saw for a bit and I find one on Facebook Marketplace. I message the seller and, once I confirm it is available, I ask to bring the price down from $190 to $140; I am ready to go to $150, but the seller agrees to my initial offer. We make some basic plans to meet the next day and then he messages me halfway through that next day with his phone number asking me to call.

Seller: “Hello?”

Me: “Hi. It’s [My Name] calling about the scroll saw.”

Five solid seconds pass.

Seller: “I… I thought you were a man.”

Me: “Yeah, I figured.”

He’d called me “buddy” a few times in the messages the day before.

Seller: “It’s… It’s a man’s tool.”

Me: “Okay. Well, I have a band saw now and need a scroll saw for some more delicate work.”

This seems to be good enough for him and we settle on a time and place. As we finalize our plans, he says softly:

Seller: “It’s too much…”

Me: “Sorry? What was that?”

Seller: “What price did we agree on?”

Me: “$140.”

Seller: “It’s too much.”

Me: “I don’t understand.”

Seller: “Maybe 120.”

Me: “What’s 120?”

Seller: “120.”

Me: “Okay…”

For reasons beyond me, when I arrived to pick up the machine, he asked me again how much we agreed on and I said $140. He shook his head and said that it was $120. Weirdest online buy/sell I’ve ever experienced, and I’ve experienced a lot of weirdness buying and selling on these sites.

The phone rings and I pick it up.

Me: “Hello, this is [Restaurant]. [My Name] speaking; how can I help you?”

Customer: “Hello, I was here yesterday; did you see me?”

Me: “Well, I don’t know what you look like, sir. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Customer: “I was here yesterday and I left something behind.”

Me: “Well, maybe we have it here. What did you leave behind, sir?”

Customer: “My spoon and fork. Did you see it?”

Me: “Did you bring your own personal spoon and fork?”

Our cutlery does not match and is not counted; there is virtually no way we could identify an odd fork.

Customer: “Yes! Did you see it?”

Me: “Our cutlery is all different, sir. We couldn’t identify yours. You’re welcome to come and choose a spoon and fork from our tray.”

Customer: “I just want to know if you saw my spoon and fork.”

Me: “Well, do you know where you left it, sir?”

Customer: “On the table.”

Me: “Well, we probably took it for one of ours, sir. Do you want to come and see our cutlery?”

Customer: “Did you see my spoon and fork?”

Me: “I’m afraid not. You have a nice day, sir.”

I am working in the clothing section of a department store when a man in his fifties or sixties stops me by grabbing my arm. He is dressed in a leather jacket and torn jeans and looks every bit the aged punk.

Customer: “That’s a very cool tattoo there.”

I have the Dark Mark from “Harry Potter” tattooed on my arm. For anyone unfamiliar with the design, it is a hissing snake emerging from the mouth of a skull.

Me: “Thank you! I got it pretty recently and I’m really fond of it. It’s a design from my favourite book.”

Customer: “I was about your age when I started getting tattoos, too.”

The man pulls up his sleeve to show me multiple tattoos of daggers, snakes, skulls, and so forth, all slightly faded from age.

Me: “Oh, cool! They look great!”

Customer: “Do your parents know about it?”

Me: “Yes, my mum really likes it!”

Customer: “Aren’t they worried about it?”

Me: “Well… my dad wasn’t happy, but I’m an adult; he understands that.”

The customer is shaking his head sadly.

Customer: “Not about that. I mean, it’s such a violent design… and on such a pretty young girl.”

I am an eighteen-year-old man.