It is the 1990s. A customer walks up to me to ask about a small CRT tube TV table on wheels.

Customer: “Do you have this in black?”

Me: “Usually, but we’re out of stock in black, we should have some next week or so.”

Customer: “What about this box?”

Me: “It’s not black, it’s brown.”

The box says, “Oak,” but it is a cheap imitation of oak.

Customer: “Okay.” *Walks away*

Five minutes later, he reappears with hate in his eyes, telling me that I lied to him. I really don’t understand what he is talking about. So, he goes to the clean, pristine, factory-sealed box of the “oak” version of the table, opens it, pulls out a plank, and shows it to me.

With an open box, there are going to be about forty customers asking for a discount on that piece of already inexpensive furniture right after this idiot, so I’m not happy.

Customer: *Angrily* “You said this was brown. It’s oak!”

Me: “Didn’t you want black?”

Customer: “Yes!”

Me: “Then what does it matter that I wasn’t precise?”

Customer: “You lied! It isn’t brown, it’s oak.”

Me: “What is oak?”

Customer: “What do you mean?”

Me: “Well, oak is wood, right?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “Generally speaking, what color is wood?”

Customer: “Brown!”

Me: “Well, if oak is wood and wood is brown, and you want black…”

Customer: “It’s not brown, it’s oak!”

This particularly idiotic customer left with a profoundly bewildered look on his face.

I cash a woman out at the drive-thru. The order is something that can take a couple of extra minutes to prepare, so sometimes we ask people to park if they order it. However, we happen to have a fresh one ready that has just finished cooking, so I do not tell her to park.

Me: “Here are your drinks. I’ll be right back in a moment with your food.”

I turn away and walk over to the bagging station to get her order ready. Again, the food is already cooked, so I’m only waiting about thirty seconds for the kitchen to put it together. I happen to glance back over at the window and see that she’s gone, and my next car is at the window.

We’re located on one end of a plaza, and the parking lot stretches for a good 250 feet from one end to the other. It’s also packed. I can’t leave the store since we’re busy, but I do try to spot her from our front window as best I can. Not seeing her, and thinking she drove off, I tell the kitchen to cancel the order. People have done this before, so I think nothing of it. We finish off the remaining orders.

Ten minutes later, the customer comes stomping in.

Customer: “Why didn’t you bring me my food? I’ve been waiting out there for ten minutes and you said it would only be a moment!”

Me: “Ma’am, I had your order ready. When I turned back to bring it to you at the window, you were gone. I looked but didn’t see you in the parking lot, so we cancelled the order.”

Customer: “But you told me to park! Why didn’t you look for me?”

Me: “I didn’t ask you to park. I said I’d be right back. I did look for you, but because we were busy, I couldn’t leave to walk around the parking lot to find you. I can give you your order right now, though, if you don’t mind waiting a moment for us to get it back together.”

She agreed to take her food now, still complaining about how everyone always makes her park and how I should have gone on an expedition to find her. 

I handed over her order, and since the rush had died down, I watched her leave just to see exactly where she’d parked. She was at the opposite end of the lot; I had to walk out our front door and past three other stores to see her.

The chain I work at is set up so you order your food first and then have it prepared at the other end of the counter. This setup becomes even more apparent when there’s a rush and you can see people line up to order and then move to pick up their food.

It’s a rush and I’m preparing the orders, calling them out as they’re ready. I’m at the farthest possible point from the cash registers, and again, the line is obviously moving from the register toward my station.

I call out an order, and as the person steps up to collect it, a woman pushes through them. 

Customer: “Why haven’t you taken my order yet?! I’ve been standing here for fifteen minutes and you keep serving everyone before me!”

Me: “What was your order? I can check to see how much longer it’ll take.”

Customer: “You haven’t even taken it yet! I can’t believe you’ve been ignoring me for this long!”

Me: “Oh! I’m sorry, but the line starts back there.”

I point to the queue of people stretching all the way to our door.

Customer: “I shouldn’t have to wait behind all of them! They came in after me. Why are you serving them first?”

Me: “I can’t take your order here. You have to wait in line. I’m sorry but I can’t let you go ahead of everyone else. They’ve been in line waiting.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous! You don’t have anything to tell me where to order. There are no signs! How was I supposed to know?”

In order for her to get to my station, she had to walk right past the entire line at the cash and past everyone waiting at the pickup area. I guess some people are so entitled they’re oblivious to the world around them.

My friend and I like going to thrift stores and just looking around, even if we’re not going to buy anything. One day, we notice a very nice wedding dress and I decide to try it on. I pick it up and start walking with it to the changing rooms. I happen to look into the dress and see a large spider. My idea of a large spider is about two inches long, and I have severe arachnophobia. I freak out.

The attendant comes over and pulls the spider out.

Attendant: “It’s just a spider, dear.”

It may be just a spider, but it is in a dress that I was about to try on. No one wants to wear a spider dress.

A woman walks up to my desk. She is wearing the required mask and has a slight, possibly Australian, accent. She says something to me that I can’t quite make out, and that sounds completely ludicrous. After a moment, I realize that what she was actually saying was:

Customer: “Is it all right if I pay with a card?”

I assure her that it is, then laugh and tell her:

Me: “For a moment there, I thought you said, ‘Is it all right if I play with a cod?”

Customer: *With a straight face* “Do you have one?”

We both cracked up.