(I’m cashing out a customer.)

Me: “Debit, credit, or cash?”

Customer: “Here is my card.” *puts it on the table*

Me: “Okay, you can just insert, swipe, or tap whenever you’re ready.”

Customer: “No, I just sign something.”

Me: “You sign the receipt, but you have to insert, swipe, or tap it first.”

Customer: “No! I just sign something!”

Me: “Okay, so, in order for you to sign the receipt, you have to insert your card.”

(The customer continues to refuse, and there is a line growing, so I swipe his card, it goes through, and the receipt prints. I normally don’t like to swipe a customer’s card, because I tapped a customer’s card once and they freaked out, because they didn’t know they had tap and thought I knew their pin.)

Customer: “There! That I sign!”

(I work in customer service for a phone company and a customer calls in to see where the technician assigned to his service installation is.)

Customer: “Hi. A technician was supposed to be here between one pm and three pm. It is now 3:30 pm and no one has showed up.”

Me: “I’ll check with dispatch and see what I can find out for you, sir.”

(I call dispatch to inquire on the order and receive some grim news. I go back to my customer.)

Me: “I have some terrible news, sir. The technician assigned to your order was in a motor vehicle accident about an hour ago, and was fatally injured.”

Customer: *with nasty tone of voice* “Well, then bloody well send another technician!”

Me: *briefly freezing from the sheer lack of compassion on the part of the customer, and then switching right to nasty mode* “Sir, this is our busy season, and the company is not in the habit of keeping spare technicians handy in case one gets killed on the job.”

Customer: “…f*** you!” *click*

(Telemarketers seem to be running rampant and keep calling me at ridiculous hours. My parents tell me to hang up the phone immediately. I get a phone call at 7:30 am, and luckily I am up for school.)

Me: “Hello?”

Caller: “I’m looking for [Name].”

Me: “Sorry, there is no [Name] here.”

Caller: “No [Name]?”

Me: “Yeah, sorry. Good luck!”

(I hung up and didn’t think much of it, until around lunch when I saw I had a voicemail. It was a job offer that I had been waiting to hear back from. They said in the message that they accidentally misread my name, but still wanted me. I am so glad I was polite!)

(I am hanging out with a friend, about to smoke, and he hands me a lighter. It has a child-lock on it, and when I buy lighters, the first thing I do is rip the lock off.)

Me: “Aw, man, you keep the child-lock on them?”

Friend: “Yeah… because we have a CHILD.”

Me: “Oh, right… that is an excellent point.”

(Every other time we hung out, we ended up having to do a lighter exchange, because somehow I’d end up with his girlfriend’s pink lighters and he’d end up with my child-lock-less lighters.)

(I’m the weird coworker in this one. I supervise a large staff. One of the librarians on staff is known for being un-gross-out-able. One day I’m snacking on unsulphured dried apricots. Without the sulphur, they don’t stay orange but turn brown like raisins, but of course much larger.)

Librarian: “What’s that you’re eating?”

Me: “Turds.”

Librarian: “That’s what I thought.”

(To my horror, I realize a new librarian is nearby and has turned around to stare at us. Luckily, she burst out laughing. When you’re the boss, you’re not supposed to say you’re eating turds in the workroom.)