(I own a very fluffy, friendly, and adorable puppy. It has gotten to the point where hearing somebody say, “Oh, my God!” while we are walking will make me stop so my pup can meet his new adoring fan. Most people will ask what breed he is or make generic comments about the amount of fluff and how sweet he is, but this one stands apart.)

Random Lady: “Oh, my God! That is not a dog; that is a stuffed animal you brought to life with black magic, you evil witch! Ooh, who’s a good doggie?! Oh, I just love how soft he is!” *continues with the usual praise I’ve heard a million times before*

(I go to get my hair cut at a local, low-cost hair salon. Nearly every time I go in there it’s a new cast of stylists. This is the first and only time I see a male stylist. It is very slow there today, with no other customers. He’s a nice and normal-seeming guy, and we’re having friendly conversation as he cuts my hair.)

Stylist: “Hey, you want me to take care of that part of your beard on your jaw that’s starting to curl under your ear?”

Me: “That’d be fine. I usually take care of that myself when I trim it, but you can save me time.”

Stylist: “Man, I just hate it when guys let that get out of control.”

Me: *thinking it’s not been anything I’ve ever noticed,but just going with the conversation* “Yeah, it can get out of control.”

Stylist: “I just want to pull on it when I see guys not taking care of that and yell, ‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHY ARE YOU LETTING THIS THING GROW? IT’S SO F****** DISGUSTING AND NASTY! QUIT BEING GROSS! CUT IT OFF!’ You know?”

Me: *stunned* “Yeah, sure. I know what you mean.”

Inventory is done late at night after we close. It takes eight hours and is always a headache. We have an inventory company that scans and counts all our items. Employees are on hand to double-check their counts and help with any issues.

This inventory was a perfect storm. Everything that could go wrong did. The inventory company was late. They couldn’t connect their controls to our Internet for at least an hour.

Two of the inventory company employees came to blows over a miscount and had to work at opposite ends of the store.

Two more were caught smoking illegal drugs and were immediately kicked off the premises.

One lady would periodically pick an employee to tearfully hug and absolutely no one found this weird or told her to stop.

Another was making a mess of the clothing tables and cussed out the store manager when asked to clean up after himself. (The store manager cussed him out right back and kicked him out after the druggies.)  

I recently learned I have unused vacation time. I’m using it during next inventory season.

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(The retail chain I work for coordinates with a local bakery to provide customers with rolls for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Because of the high demand, customers have to submit their order forms weeks in advance, and then the rolls are available in-store the day before the holiday.)

Customer: “Hi, I have a complaint. I ordered rolls from you guys and they weren’t in the store when I came to pick them up.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry about that. Did you get a confirmation that your order went through and everything?”

Customer: “Yes, but they weren’t there.”

Me: “Okay, I’m really sorry that that happened. Since it’s the bakery that makes them, let me give you their number to see why they didn’t deliver to your location on time.”

Customer: “No, I don’t want their number. I just want to complain.”

Me: “You’ll still need to contact the bakery. I don’t work for them; I work for [Small Retail Chain], so I can’t forward your complaint to anyone here.”

Customer: “I don’t want the bakery’s number.”

Me: “Okay?” *I wait for her to tell me what she does want, then…*

Customer: “Thank you, dear. Have a good day.” *hangs up*

Me: *thoroughly confused*

(A little old lady walks in.)

Customer: “Excuse me? I need help finding something.”

Me: “Oh, okay. What are you looking for today?”

Customer: *checks list* “First off, where are your live octopus tentacles?”

(I stare at her silently for a moment.)

Me: “I… I don’t think we… um…. carry that particular item. Is there… anything else?”

Customer: “Oh, that’s fine. I’m also looking for porcupine and ostrich meat.”

(This time I’m even more surprised, and it obviously shows.)

Customer: “It doesn’t have to be mixed together. I can do it myself.”

Me: “I’m… I… I don’t think we have… that… either. I’m sorry. You may be interested in—”

Customer: “What about bats? Or toes? I mean, the toes would be pretty expensive, but I can afford them. I’m not poor!”

Me: “T-Toes?”

Customer: “Yes, and don’t try and trick me with monkey toes, because I know what a human toe looks like! They all try to trick me! All of them! I can’t trust you people anymore! You d*** lying b******!”

(I had to get my manager. The woman was kicked out of the store without purchasing anything.)

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