My better half booked a two-week cruise for us both. She is fastidious when it comes to paperwork. We board after showing our tickets and are directed to our room.

While we are unpacking, there’s a knock on the door. We open it to see one of the cruise workers and a lady. The lady reminds me of an owl by the way she is peeking around the employee, looking into my room. I shut the door a tad so she can’t peer in, and I am informed that there seems to be an issue with the booking.

The employee asks if I could make my way to the purser’s desk with any paperwork we may have. We get the folder containing the paperwork and I head off with Mrs. Owl to get this sorted.

After ten minutes of listening to Mrs. Owl complain how unprofessional everything is, we get to the front of the line and are asked by the purser for any documentation we may have to help clear up the matter.

I hand her the folder saying, “This is every piece of correspondence between my partner, me, and your company, in chronological order starting with my partner’s first inquiry up until yesterday morning confirming our room number.”

The purser looks to Mrs. Owl. Mrs. Owl hands her a sticky note with a handwritten number on it.

Ten minutes later, I’m back in my room with my feet up drinking an extremely alcoholic cocktail.

Not sure what happened to the Owls.

Caller: “Can I get a [premium service] taxi?”

Me: “Well, we do require a half-hour notice for that and—“

Caller: “But it’s my wedding day!”

Me: “…”

It’s lunchtime and we arrive at a casual place. The menu, the combos, and the system are a little confusing but we manage to order. The woman on the register is clearly on a working holiday, so the language and our multiple accents add to the confusion.

My companion and I sit at an outside table and comment on how her attitude didn’t help but at least we got there. After a few minutes, she comes out from behind the counter and outside to our table and says, “Your food is ready. You need to come in and get it.”

Yes, she came out empty handed to tell us to come in and get it!

(I work in a food court. Someone in a different store has the same name as me, and we often work the same shift. We look nothing alike.)

Me: “Hi. What can I help you with today!?”

Customer: *noticing my name tag* “Hey, that girl over there has your name!”

Me: “Yep, she sure does.”

Customer: “You’ve got the same name! Are you sisters?”

Me: *after a pause* “Yes, our parents gave us the exact same name.”

(I have been serving a line of customers when my manager approaches me and starts berating me for not asking for the customer’s loyalty card. The customer had given me their card along with the stock they were purchasing; we are supposed to ask before taking payment.)

Me: *holds up card* “The customer gave it to me first; I’ve already entered it.”

Manager: “Hmph. You didn’t ask the last customer, either.”

Me: “They had their card ready, too.”

Manager: “Well, I’ve been standing here while you served six customers, and you didn’t ask a single one for their cards or ask them to join.”

Me: “They all had their cards ready for me.”

Manager: “Yeah, sure. That’s what you say.”

Me: *pulls up my transaction records on the screen* “Why don’t you take a look yourself? You will see that the last ten customers I’ve served have been cardholders.”

Manager: *in a sulky voice* “Well… you are supposed to ask every time or get them to join up.” *stomps off*

Next Customer: *holding her card out to me* “You better ask for me for this; I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.”