(I have discovered that our sandwich chalkboard sign out front has been smeared by a child. This is the third time this week, and I’m a little miffed, but I haul it inside and set up to repair it. I’m in clear view of both the front door and the register, and I greet everyone who comes in so they know to come to me with questions. At one point, I hear a throat clear behind me and I turn around to see a woman standing there and glaring.)

Woman: “Are you going to help me or what?!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t realize you needed help. What can I help you with?”

Woman: “Of course you didn’t know, because you aren’t doing your job. This is something you should do when there are not customers.”

Me: “My apologies. It’s been a bit slow, and I need to get this fixed up so it can go back outside. I assumed most people would ask if they needed something.”

Woman: “You need to do this before the store opens because it’s distracting.”

Me: *finally losing patience* “Ma’am, my boss doesn’t pay me enough to live on during the hours I’m scheduled, as it is. He’s certainly not going to pay for me to come in thirty minutes early and make the sign, which I’ve never had issues doing during open hours before. Now, what did you need help with?”

Woman: “Never mind. I don’t remember my question, and I’ve got better things to do than being told off by some mouthy worker.”

Me: “Very good, then. Have a good day.”

(She stood there another minute or two, glaring, then left. Apparently, she called the next day and complained that I was “messing around” on the clock and ignoring customers.)

(It’s about three minutes before I close. I notice a group of people hovering outside the — unlocked — door, peering in through the glass. When they see me they gesture emphatically, so I approach.)

Me: *opening door* “Hi?”

Customer: “Hi! Are you closed?”

Me: “In about two minutes.”

Customer: “Oh, good, we can come in for two minutes.”

Me: “Uh, sure. Are you looking for a specific item? Maybe I can help?”

Customer: “Oh, no, we’re just browsing!”

Me: “Okay, well, I am going to be starting on closing procedures in a few minutes here.”

Customer: “Of course. Don’t mind us!”

(They were there for fifteen minutes.)

(I am a high school Spanish teacher. A colleague, who also teaches Spanish, asks me to supervise her class for a moment while she goes to the bathroom. The students are taking a test, and one student decides to see if he can get away with asking me a question about the test content:)

Student: “How do you say ‘simple’ in Spanish?”

Me: “I can’t answer that.”

Student: “S***.”

Me: “I can’t answer that either.”

(I’m a high school teacher, and I’m also the advisor for a music appreciation club at my school. At the beginning of each club meeting, everyone gets a turn to talk about the music they’re currently listening to.)

Student #1: “I’ve been listening to Tangled Up in Blue by… um… Bob Marley?”

Me: “Bob Dylan!”

Student #2: “Two very different artists…”

(Various murmurs of agreement.)

Student #3: “Maybe we can get Bob Marley to do a cover of it.”

Me: “If you bring him back from the dead, sure!”

(Our store is a home decor boutique in an extremely wealthy neighborhood, and tends to be very pricey. I definitely can’t afford any of the things we sell, even with my discount. But even some of the wealthier clients complain sometimes about the cost. A customer comes in wearing a fur coat that looks real, and carrying a Prada bag. She’s been taking photos with her latest-gen iPhone.)

Me: “Anything you have questions on? Are you looking for a gift, or to decorate a space?”

Customer: “No, thanks. I’m hosting a big dinner later so I’m just taking some pictures.”

Me: “Okay, well, let me know. I’m a deft hand at centerpieces and vignettes.”

Customer: “Oh, don’t bother. I’m just going to find them on Amazon later.”

(I get the impulse to save, but how rude can you be?)