(At the end of summer break before my second year of college, my father arranges for me to spend two weeks working as a receptionist in the small private company where he works, while their regular receptionist is out on vacation. I’m just meant to answer the phones, get the mail, and maybe make copies for people in the office. However, I must still interview with the company owner first, which I do. He asks me about the regular things, including past work experience; at this point I have none, and I’m honest about it. I’m a college student with one year of classes and good grades, I can use a computer, and I’m willing to work diligently and do anything they ask; that’s about all I have to say for myself. I do not try to prevaricate about anything – I didn’t even know how back then, and Dad didn’t tell me to try. The owner seems fine with it and hires me on. He actually comes off a lot nicer and more reasonable than I was expecting; the entire time my father’s been working for him, both my parents have gone on and on nonstop about this man always yelling at everyone, throwing tantrums, and seemingly having serious mental problems. I wait for my father to finish work so he can drive us home. Then, in the car, he decides to start in on me out of nowhere:)

Dad: “You know, [My Name], [Owner] is actually a very clever man. I spoke to him after your interview and he made clear that he sussed you out! Yes, he figured you out with ease and could tell right away that you don’t have any work experience at all!”

(I stare at Dad in extreme confusion about his saying something so obvious, but apparently, he misinterprets it to mean that I didn’t understand him. He then even starts shaking his finger at me in emphasis while talking.)

Dad: *as if he’s teaching me some great lesson* “Yes, [Owner] is a very smart, quick-witted man! He could tell very easily that you have no work experience! None whatsoever! It was extremely generous of him to agree to hire you anyway, and you are very lucky, since he could just tell that you have no experience! At all! He cottoned on to the fact that you haven’t ever worked anywhere before! You see, he just saw right through whatever you told him!” 

(And on and on and on in this vein while I’m just flabbergasted. While I almost never argue with my parents, finally, I’ve had enough:)

Me: “Why yes, Dad, I’m quite sure that he could figure out my lack of work experience pretty easily, seeing as I plainly told him about it myself as soon as he asked me! I didn’t try to lie to the man! What exactly is your point here?!”

Dad: *abruptly shuts up, turns away, doesn’t answer me, and keeps silent the rest of the drive home, sulking*

(He never mentioned my lack of work experience again. I still can’t figure out what his deal was. I never let him set me up with a job again, in any case. This stint turned out to be extremely unchallenging and underwhelming; they had so little work for me that I was just sitting around bored for most of eight hours per day.)

(I work at a theater, where we have reward points for anyone who wants to sign up. After racking up a certain amount of points, guests can get stuff like free popcorn, free drinks, free movie tickets, etc. However, if a guest wants a free popcorn or drink, they have to do it through guest service, the box office, or on our app; we cannot do it up at concessions as we do not have the program for it on our computers. I have just finished ringing a guest up, which took a little longer than normal because he had trouble paying with his card, when I get to this lovely gentleman next in line:)

Customer: “Can you tell me what I can get with these points? I want to get something.” *hands me his ticket*

Me: “Sure, however, unfortunately, I cannot pick an item for you here at concessions. You would have to either do it up at guest service, which is over there—” *about to talk about the app*

Customer: *with an attitude* “You mean, I have to get out of this line, walk all the way over to that line, and then come back in this line?!”

(It’s a matinee, there is no line at guest service nor is there any line at concessions. He is just unlucky he was behind someone who took a little longer. And although I am about to talk about the app, his attitude just makes me immediately get the manager.)

Me: “Okay, can I have your card or number so I can look up how many points you have?”

Customer: “It says it right there! That’s why I gave you the ticket!”

(True, but I have to put his card in the system anyway. I just brush the comment off.)

Me: “Okay, you have enough for a free popcorn—” *about to say “or a free drink”*

Customer: “Okay.”

Me: “Okay?” *about to hit popcorn on my screen*

Customer: *with an attitude* “NO! I don’t want popcorn; I hate popcorn. I just wanted to know what I could get! I’ll have a hot dog and a medium soda.”

(I go into the back to tell the manager that he can get a free drink. Thirty seconds later, she forgets what he wants again, and to clarify, she asks him:)

Manager: “So, you wanted a free small popcorn and a free small drink?”

Customer: “NO! I DON’T KNOW WHAT SHE TOLD YOU! I HATE POPCORN! I THINK IT TASTES NASTY! I said I wanted a hot dog and a medium soda!”

Manager: *taken aback* “Okay, sir, so you can still get the free small soda and you can—”

Customer: “BUT I WANT A MEDIUM! I DON’T NEED A SMALL SODA!”

Manager: “Sir—”

Customer: “Just cancel that free small drink!”

Manager: “Sir—”

Customer: “I’m going to be late for my movie!”

Manager: “Sir. You can still get the medium, you’ll only be charged for the upgrade instead of full price. So, the medium will only cost you fifty cents.”

Customer: “Okay, then! We can do that.”

Manager: “All right, just give her your card or your phone number, so we can put it in the system.”

Me: *internally screaming*

(My manager went to guest service, she came back, and we finally finished the transaction. I doubt he had the app, but making him wait for my manager to go to guest service and then come back was my little revenge for his attitude the whole transaction. You really do catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.)

(I’ve just clocked in when the phone rings, so I pick it up.)

Me: “Hi. You’ve reached [Coffee Shop]; what can we do for you?”

Caller: “Hi. I’m stuck in traffic but I want to place an order.”

Me: *thinking she means a traveler, as we don’t take phone orders for individual drinks* “Sure, we have our joe-to-go boxes which serve twelve cups, and plastic cambros in 2.5- and 5-gallon sizes.”

Caller: “What? No, I just want an iced coffee.”

Me: “Oh… Did you want to pay over the phone?”

(That’s still not something we do, but I want to check what she is after.)

Caller: “No.”

Me: “Okay, well, I can’t really pre-make it for you, since it’s just pouring the cold brew over ice, but if you just walk up and order it when you get here we’ll have it for you in no time—“

Caller: *suddenly, screams, sounding like she’s about to cry, though she was completely calm up to this point* “WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!”

(She hung up, leaving me baffled.)

Customer: “Hey, can I ask you something?”

Me: *expecting a product-related question* “Sure!”

Customer: “Have you seen the clowns in [Popular Supermarket Chain] that hide from gay people?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

(The customer repeats the question while his wife smirks at me and says:)

Customer’s Wife: “He’s telling you that you’re gay.”

(While I’m heterosexual, I am an avid gay rights activist.)

Me: “Yes, I am.”

(The customer’s eyes widened as he gaped at me. I smiled. He exited quickly while his wife glanced over her shoulder in shock. No one’s sexuality should ever be the punchline of a joke!)

I am on my way to an event and decide to stop at a fast food restaurant to pick up a coffee for myself and one for someone I am meeting at the event. I am about ten minutes early, so I figure I have plenty of time to use the drive-thru.

I place my order, then pay, and then go to the pick-up window. The person there asks me to park in a numbered space reserved for drive-thru customers. I figure they are making more coffee or some such. So, I wait, listening to music in my car and playing on my phone. After several songs have played, I realize that it has been ten minutes, and I am now going to be late.

I walk in and ask about my order. There is frantic commotion behind the counter, and I am told that my coffee isn’t ready. They are cleaning the coffee maker… which will take another thirty minutes.

For coffee.

She does ask if there is anything else she can get me, but I just ask for a refund, which I get.

I wind up late for my event and have to apologize to my friend for not bringing coffee. Fortunately, we’re still friends.