A little while after my second child was born, I took my eldest (then three years old) to a hot springs resort for the weekend to give her a small break from the new baby. 

When I booked the one-night stay, there was a deal on a Bed & Breakfast rate (room plus breakfast for two). At check-in, I was given two meal vouchers. 

Skip ahead to checkout…

I, like many, didn’t read the bill as I paid because I had prepaid for the stay and did not have any additional charges. As I was loading up the car, I glanced at the receipt and saw that there was an additional charge for a child’s breakfast. I went back to the reception and inquired about the charge.

Me: “I don’t understand. I paid for the meals in the package.”

Reception: “The charge was for a child’s meal. You only prepaid for two adult meals.”

Me: “I want a refund on the meal. You should have used the meal voucher for us both.”

Reception: “We can’t do that. You booked a package for adult meals.”

Me: “My child is three and only ate one pancake and some fruit. It’s absurd to effectively charge her for both an adult meal and a child meal.”

Reception: “There’s nothing I can do. It’s a package deal.”

I asked to speak with the customer service manager, and when I did, they also wouldn’t budge, simply repeating “it’s a package deal” over and over.

Me: “Fine. I want my meal voucher back, as I didn’t actually use it.”

My paperwork was still fresh on the reception counter, so I picked up my meal voucher, and I noticed that there was no date on it. I turned to the guest behind me waiting to check in, and asked them:

Me: “Have you pre-purchased breakfast?”

Guest: “No, we haven’t.”

I handed them the voucher.

Me: “Here. Go nuts!”

I then turned back to the reception manager. 

Me: “Now I would like to cancel the two other weekends I had booked.”

People have a tendency to misspell my last name because it’s an unusual spelling for a commonplace word. Think “Phormer” instead of “Former”.

Back in the early 1990’s, the company I worked for hadn’t switched over to direct deposit for its payroll yet. Every payday, an employee went from cubicle to cubicle, handing out physical paycheques.

Eventually, that responsibility fell to a new employee who’d been hired while I was away on vacation, so she’d never met me before.

New Employee: “Name?”

I decide not to point out that my nameplate is on my cubicle wall right at her eye level.

Me: “It’s [First Name] Phormer.”

New Employee: *Flips through paycheques.* “I don’t have one for you.” *Turns to leave.*

Me: “Hold it. You should have one for me.”

New Employee: “You were on vacation, right? I remember your cubicle being empty last time. That’s why I don’t have one for you.” *Condescendingly.* “If you don’t work, you don’t get paid.”

Me: “Uh, wrong. We get vacation pay here.”

New Employee: “We do? Well, be that as it may, I still don’t have a paycheque for you.” *Tries to leave again.*

Me: *Sighing, because I know what the problem is.* “Maybe you’re not looking for the right last name? It’s ‘Phormer’–”

I’m about to spell it, but she interrupts me.

New Employee: “—Yes, I know, and I tell you that I don’t have a paycheque for F-O-R-M-E-R! I don’t know what you want from me!”

Me: *Points to my nameplate.* “It’s spelled P-H-O-R-M-E-R.”

New Employee: “…”

Me: “So, do you have a paycheque for me?”

New Employee: “…yes.” *Hands it over.*

Me: “Thank you!”

I am working the checkout at a retail clothing store; I am about nineteen years old. I’d worked retail since I was sixteen but previously worked for a charity-run thrift store, so I didn’t experience many “bad” customers.

This woman took the cake by far.

An important note is that I have always dressed and looked “alternative” but still work-appropriate. I had split-dyed hair, micro bangs, and I always went to work with a full face of makeup on, complete with thick winged eyeliner.

Me: “Hi! How’s it going?”

I start ringing through her merchandise, but notice she’s looking at me funny.

Customer: “Fine. Your generation and those weird haircuts…”

Me: *Taken aback.* “Excuse me?”

Customer: “Were those bangs a mistake? Or did you mess them up on purpose?”

I wasn’t going to be spoken to like this, but I also wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of making me upset.

Me: *Still in a pleasant tone.* “On purpose.”

Customer: “You couldn’t pay me to go out of the house like that.”

I continued with the transaction, hoping the awkward silence would keep her at bay.

Customer: *Almost as if she’s speaking to herself.* “Girls who wear that amount of makeup have no respect for themselves…”

I ignored the comment and told her her total, and when I bent my head to bag her items, it seemed she noticed my hair colours.

Customer: “Oh my word! And your hair colour, too? Are you mentally ill?”

I stare blankly at her and repeat her total. She repeated her question.

Me: “I think I’ve put up with enough from you. Your total is [total], and then we can get out of each other’s lives forever. It’s obvious you have issues with me, and I can’t say I’m your biggest fan. How would you like to pay?”

She made a face, silently paid, and I never saw her again.

Customer: “What time do you guys close?”

Me: “We close at ten.”

Customer: “Okay. What time do you guys close?

Me: “Ten O’clock.”

Customer: “Alright. What time do you guys close?

Me: “Ten.”

Customer: “Got it. So, what time do you guys close?”

Me: *Beginning to get annoyed.* “Repeat after me. Ten.”

Customer: “Ten.”

Me: “Repeat after me. Ten.”

Customer: “What?

Me: “Repeat after me. Ten.”

Customer: “I don’t get it.”

The supervisor, who had just finished cashing someone else during the conversation, turns to us and is evidently trying to hold back laughter.

Supervisor: “He keeps saying ten, man! Ten! So leave him alone!”

Customer: *Takes a step back, and the cogs in their brain are visibly and finally beginning to turn, turns to [Supervisor].* “Oh right, thank you.” *He turns to me.* “Thank you.”

My shift has recently ended, so I am leaving the store. While leaving, the supervisor was heading out for a break, so we decided to walk and talk to each other as we left. 

On the way out, there was a huge line. Concerned, [Supervisor] and I went up to investigate the reason why there was a huge line in the first place.

[Cashier #1] was struggling in one lane to cash someone out. Meanwhile, [Cashier #2] was simply staring at their computer screen. [Supervisor] and I looked at each other in confusion.

Supervisor: “What happened to the till?”

Cashier #2: “Oh, nothing.”

Supervisor: “It still hasn’t reset yet?”

Cashier #2: “Oh, no. I haven’t turned it back on yet. I just figured it needs a little break.”

Time stopped all around us. [Supervisor] and I stared at [Cashier #2]. [Cashier #1] stopped what they were doing and turned to [Cashier #2]. Even the customer who was with [Cashier #1] stopped and looked at [Cashier #2]!

Cashier #2: “What?”

Me: “You know… you know they’re not Net Navis, right?”

Cashier #2: “What is that?”

Me: “They don’t have souls, you know.”

Cashier #2: “Yeah, I don’t get it.”

Supervisor: “JUST TURN THE COMPUTER BACK ON!”

Cashier #2: “Alright, geez.” *Turns the computer on.*

[Supervisor] and I ended up leaving the store, both of us collectively agreeing that what just happened made us crave coffee even though it was already nighttime.