(I am working customer service at a local grocery store. We are known for our good customer service. It is getting close to closing when a mother and her teenage daughter walk in and grab a large cart. I inwardly groan because I cannot close my counter until the last customer leaves. The mother takes her time strolling through the aisles, looking wistfully around. Finally, they come to the counter to pay with only a few items. By now, it is thirty minutes past our closing time. As soon as I see them walk out the door, I close my register and stash my refund slips for the day. I am about to walk out from behind the counter when I look up and see the mother standing there, just staring at me.)

Me: *trying not to show she scared me* “Oh! Sorry, ma’am. Was there something I could help you with?”

(I am internally groaning because I have already closed my register and there is no way for me to do any more refunds.)

Customer: “Oh, yes. I told her I wouldn’t, but she just wanted me to come back in here and ask. You have such lovely skin!”

(She just stares at me.)

Me: “Well, thank you; that’s very nice of you.”

Customer: “My daughter wants to have your skin. I told her I wouldn’t ask, but she sent me back in.”

(I am getting really bugged out now, but keep trying to smile.)

Customer: “What skin cleanser do you use?”

Me: *giant sigh of relief now that I know she doesn’t want a refund, and she doesn’t want to rip off my skin* “Oh! I really couldn’t tell you. I wash my face with whatever is in the shower at the time. Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”

Customer: “I figured it was just good genetics, but really, I must tell my daughter something.”

(She looks at me expectantly. Just wanting to get her out of here, I say some brand name I remember from a commercial.)

Me: “That’s what I use. Nothing too fancy.”

Customer: “Hmm. I suppose… I guess I’ll tell her that. Good night, then.”

(She finally left for good, leaving me scared to walk out to my car in the dark.)

(I work hiring out animals for children to ride. On slow days I spend a lot of time reading, often sitting on said animals, as I don’t have another chair. An older woman approaches me while I am reading.)

Customer: *in a slightly accented voice* “What a good idea!”

Me: “Yeah, the kids love it.”

Customer: “Smart idea, good thinking.” *says something I don’t understand*

Me: *smiles and curses my poor hearing* “Uh-huh.”

Customer: “I can’t get a good bra.” *gestures at nearby clothes store*

Me: *smile now frozen* “Uh-huh.”

Customer: “I can’t reach behind me because my hand is broken, and they never have ones that button in front.”

Me: *too dumbfounded to figure out way to end this* “That’s too bad.”

Customer: “I can make them do up in front — sew them back together and put buttons in — but they’re never in white. Always with spots. Can’t have spots, not on stage.”

Me: *cursing my life and politeness* “Uh-huh.”

Customer: “Wish they would employ me here.” *gestures at my desk* “Back home they do not; they say, ‘You belong on stage, not working.’ Wonder what would happen if I got on the table and started singing?”

Me: *thinking* “Nothing great.”

Customer: “But I can never find a good bra. No good ones here.”

(It’s my day off, but I go to the shop where I normally work with my dad to pick up a few bits. He’s looking for coffee of a specific brand and can’t find any on the shelves. I know we sell it, so I go to check the “Manager’s Specials” near the front of the store. Sure enough, the coffee is there. I take it back to my dad, who’s waiting in another aisle, when a woman stops me)

Customer: “Ooh, I’ve been looking for that coffee everywhere! Where is it?”

Me: “It’s in the Manager’s Specials at the front of the store.”

Customer: “Where’s that?”

Me: “It’s just the other side of the Pick’n’Mix.”

Customer: “Where?”

Me: “Just as you come through the doors, it’s on your right.”

Customer: “So, I go out of the store, come back in, and turn right? Thank you!

(Before I could say another word, the woman bustled off. I went to my dad and we queued up. Sure enough, the woman went out of the store, came back in, and looked to the right where the Manager’s Specials were. I’ve never known someone to take directions that literally!)

(The latest management fad is a daily briefing in which we have to state yesterday’s achievements and objectives for today, with a three-minutes time limit, all while standing in a circle holding hands. The implementer of the fad alternates between interrupting people for not giving their statements correctly and reprimanding them for running out of time. My turn comes, but a colleague cuts me off:)

Colleague: “[My Name], get a ladder and get someone to hang that map…”

Me: “Oh, while they have the ladder out, they could also change the burnt-out light bulb in the corridor!”

Fad Implementer: *holding up a finger like I was a little kid* “No, no, no, [My Name], this is not a topic for the morning briefing!”

Me: *speechless*

(I just hope the fad dies out before I punch him in the throat.)

(I’m on the till with the lottery and scratchcards. I ring up a customer and she takes a while counting out her money for me. I put it through the till.)

Customer: “I’ll have a scratchcard, as well.”

Me: “Of course. Which one would you like?”

Customer: “Erm… number three.”

(I look at the scratchcards and realise number three and four contain the same scratchcards, but number three only has one left. Instead of emptying one container and having to move over a scratchcard, I decide to take one from number four.)

Customer: “No. I said number three.”

Me: “They’re the same kind. There is only one left in three, so I thought—”

Customer: “No! I must only go by even numbers! I need number three!”

(I didn’t bother to point out that three is an odd number!)