(As I pass by the paint desk, I see my coworker talking to a woman who doesn’t seem to be very happy. She’s giving him a hard time and making a face at him like she doesn’t believe a single word out of his mouth, but I’ve been asked to help a customer in the next aisle and I know he knows what he’s doing, so I leave. Several minutes later, I’m headed back to the paint desk. As I pass, I see that there’s a can of paint sitting on the counter, and the same woman is approaching with a cart, still with a very sour look on her face. As I usually do, I greet her and ask her if everything looks right with her paint order.)

Customer: *gives a big, put-upon huff, and says* “I don’t think your guy knew what he was talking about.”

Me: “I’m sorry. Can I help you out?”

Customer: “I’m looking for [Brand #1]’s cabinet and furniture paint. I know I’ve bought it here before.”

(I’ve never heard of that specific paint before, but something clicks; several months ago I came across a mention of a [Brand #1] line that I’d never heard of before, and discovered it wasn’t sold in my country. I put this together and try to sound confident.)

Me: “They don’t sell that in Canada. I think [Brand #1] has a paint labelled for cabinets, but I’ve never seen it; most of the stuff from that line is only sold in the States. This is what we normally recommend for cabinets.”

(I brace myself for an unpleasant confrontation as I say this. Usually, when we have to tell someone that something is States-only, we get anger and disbelief, and I have actually zero knowledge of the product she’s looking for. For this customer, it’s like a switch has been flipped. The sour expression completely disappears from her face, and she actually laughs. I’m looking at her face and there’s no moment of confusion or sudden realization; one second she’s sour, the next she’s laughing and says:)

Customer: “That’s right. I bought it in the States!”

(She was then super pleasant and left with a smile on her face. Apparently, I passed a test of some sort?)

(I work at a call center. I have just spent an all-nighter studying for two tests, and I haven’t slept — literally — at all for over 24 hours. The customer is talking whilst I am clicking the things that need to be clicked on the screen, but I start falling asleep as I am working; it feels like I have a battery that is dying. I mean to ask if she wants StretchPay, but instead, this is what comes out of my mouth:)

Me: “—and would you like syrup with your pancakes?”

(It took us both a moment before we realized in unison what I’d just said, and thankfully the customer thought it was hilarious and had sympathy for me after I briefly explained what I’d mentioned above. That was the first and only time I ever asked if they wanted syrup, thankfully.)

(While I’m working in the dairy department, an elderly customer comes over to ask me a question.)

Customer: “Excuse me. I have a coupon for this; can you tell me where it’s located?”

Me: “Okay, let me have a look at it.”

(The customer shows a coupon for a McDonald’s Frappe.)

Me: “Um, ma’am, that’s a coupon for a McDonald’s Frappe.”

Customer: “Oh, but if you sold it, where would it be in the store?”

Me: “We don’t sell those here. You might want to go to McDonald’s across the street.”

Customer: “Oh, okay…”

(The customer left the store, still looking confused.)

(My mother and I are walking through a parking lot when a giant van suddenly cuts in front of us and keeps heading towards us! We stop and the guy has his window open and is glaring.)

Mom: “Hey, we’re pedestrians! Don’t cut in front of us like that!”

(He speeds up and we move to the side. As he pulls ahead, he honks his horn loudly several times before shouting back at us.)

Guy: “You’re eating that godd*** baloney sandwich!”

(My mom and I cracked up. I think he was trying to say we were full of baloney. In any case, we were pedestrians with the right of way and he was a reckless driver who nearly hit us, so we know who really was “eating that godd*** baloney sandwich.”)

(I work at a local retail store where we carry a variety of fashion items; some have those little beige things called gators that cause the alarms to sound. I have just finished taking a gator off a purse for a woman, and she has not yet paid for it.)

Customer #1: “Do you mind if I swing that through the door really quick?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

([Customer #2] and I exchange a look.)

Customer #1: “You know, just to make sure the alarms won’t go off.”

Me: “Go ahead.”

([Customer #1] proceeds to take the purse over to the door and swing it wildly in front of her through the alarm doors.)

Customer #1: “Sorry, it’s just so embarrassing when the alarms go off!”