(A customer is in the store with her two early-teenaged grandkids.)

Customer: “I need one of those… those thumb things… You know… thumb something.”

Me: “A thumb drive?”

Customer: “Yeah!”

(I grab one and hold it up.)

Me: “We have these promotional ones here, and the rest are in aisle two.”

Customer: “No, that’s not what I want!”

Me: “Oh, sorry, what are you looking for?”

Customer: “A thing for my phone! I want to plug my phone into my computer!”

Me: “Then you need the cord. You should have one already that came with your phone, unless you would like an extra one.”

Customer: “Oh, right, yeah. I have a cord already, but I need the doohickey so I can plug it into my computer.”

Me: “You don’t need anything extra to plug it into your computer; it will just plug into the USB port.”

Customer: “No, it won’t.”

Customer’s Grandkids: “Granny, yes, it will! We told you the same thing!”

Customer: “No, it won’t! I know what I need!”

Me: “Well, I’m not sure what it is you’re looking for, because your cord will plug directly into the computer.”

Customer: “No, I know it won’t!”

Customer’s Grandkids: “Yes, it will!”

Customer: “Just show me what I need to plug it into the computer!”

(The grandkids are sighing and rolling their eyes at this point, looking embarrassed.)

Me: “I assure you, you don’t need anything extra, just the cord.”

Customer: “No! Nope! I know I do!”

Me: *being very firm* “No, you don’t.”

(Her grandkids are now shaking their heads and laughing.)

Me: “Here, I’ll show you.” *grab a cord and walk over to a computer, turning it around so that she can see, and I plug the cord into the computer* “See? This part here goes into the computer, and the other end goes into your phone. That’s all you need to save things from your phone to your computer.”

Customer: “No, I need something extra! A doohickey.”

Customer’s Grandkids: “But she just showed you! It plugs right in!”

Customer: “Well, I’m old! I don’t know anything about technology! What if I want to save it to a thumb drive after? Then I need a doohickey for my phone.”

Me: “No, then you just plug a thumb drive into the computer and copy the files over.”

Customer: “WHAT?! I don’t know how to do that!”

Customer’s Grandkids: “Granny, it’s fine; we’ll show you how to do that.”

(The customer goes off to find a flash drive and one of the grandkids stays up with me.)

Grandkid: “So, how’s your day going?”

Me: “Good, thanks… And yours?”

Grandkid: *pause* “Interesting.”

(I decide to drop some bottles off for the refund on my way to work. At this particular supermarket, you turn the bottles in at the customer service desk. If no one is there, you are supposed to leave the bottles in a tray on the counter and apply at a till for your refund. I do so, pick up a drink, and go up to a till.)

Me: “Just this pop, and I brought in eighteen small bottles.”

(The cashier rings me up, but she’s frowning in the direction of the Customer Service desk, where one of her coworkers is helping a man with his bottles.)

Cashier: “Did you leave your bottles on top the counter?”

Me: “Yes, they’re all diet Coke bottles.”

Cashier: “Hey, [Coworker]! Those bottles aren’t all his.”

(Apparently, the guy was going to cheerfully stand there while she paid him for my returns as well as his and not say a word. I guess you can’t blame a guy for trying.)

(Apart from my main job, I started a minor side gig a few years ago of fixing women’s computers. I am a woman who, with my innate understanding of computers, started helping female relatives and friends, with their home computer issues. I then went to my local college to take night classes and got my IT certification. After that, I could start doing house calls for women whom I was referred to, and have it be a real business with my certificate. I charge very little because it is only my side job and I enjoy doing it. I like getting to hang out with women as I fix their computers and it is, for the most part, quite enjoyable. But it’s women only, 100%. I will never touch a man’s computer, so I get a few miffed callers after I tell them my rule, but this one takes the cake. I get a male caller:)

Caller: “Hi there. I got your name from [Family Friend]. Can you please come over and have a look at my computer?”

Me: “Sorry. Is this your wife’s or sister’s or girlfriend’s computer?”

Caller: “No, it’s mine.”

Me: “Sorry. I don’t fix men’s computers.”

Caller: “What?! That’s ridiculous! Why not?”

Me: “You have enough people to choose from to fix your computer. I only help women.”

Caller: “Look. I’ll bring it to you.”

Me: “It doesn’t matter where it is; it matters that it’s not a woman’s.”

Caller: “I… What? That doesn’t make any sense. I’m a paying customer. You have to fix my computer, too!”

Me: “There are hundreds of techs that can fix your computer. I offer my services only to women as I find they feel more comfortable having a woman come to their house.”

Caller: “I would prefer that, too!”

Me: “I don’t care. I don’t work on men’s computers, ever. Please call [Big Store Computer Repair Services] or something. There are literally hundreds of other options besides me!”

Caller: “That’s sexist. I’ll sue you.”

Me: “Oh, okay, then. I’ll come and fix your computer.”

Caller: “What? Really?”

Me: “Yeah. If you want me on your computer after you threatened me, I’ll be right over.”

Caller: “Um…” *click*

(Typically, we ask guests to call in advance with large orders so we have more time to prepare their order. In the drive-thru:)

Customer: “I’ll have twenty-four large iced capps, six dozen donuts, two dozen muffins, and a hundred-and-fifty timbits.”

Coworker: *somewhat speechless* “Okay, we’ll have your total at the window.”

(By this point, we’re all running around frantically trying to make their order so our drive-thru times are not completely destroyed. They’ve been at the window not even two minutes.)

Customer: “Holy s***! Could you hurry up a bit so I don’t run out of gas waiting here?!”

(I sell bets on horses in the restaurant at my local casino. On race nights, minors are allowed in the dining room via the family entrance. We card many people just to be sure that they are old enough to wager on the horses because anyone can get in. I look very young for my age and often use this as a joke when I card people who appear to be the same age as me. I just finished serving a table who had some kids with them.)

Me: “Any other bets?”

Kid: *no older than eleven* “Can I bet?”

Me: “Sorry, but you have to be nineteen to bet.”

Kid: *smugly* “But what if I am nineteen?”

Me: “Then you’d need ID to prove it. Sorry, bud, but if I look like I’m twelve, you’re at least seven.”