(I see a boy come into the store and go right for the candy. I follow him and he detours but comes back to the candy moments later. I see him take candy with his hands, instead of the scoop provided, and no bag, meaning he’s going to steal it.)

Me: “Sorry, no tasting of candy allowed. It’s stealing.”

Kid: “I was gonna pay for it.”

Me: *not believing him* “Oh, really? Well, then, I can help you at the front.” *grabs a bag, puts his candy in it, and gets him to follow me to the front*

Kid: “I don’t have any money.”

Me: “So, you weren’t stealing candy, and you were gonna pay for it, but you don’t have any money? Listen, kid. I’ve gotten people kicked out of the mall for stealing but I’m giving you a chance to pay.”

(Then, some random woman who has been listening nearby pops into the conversation.)

Woman: “I’ll pay. How much is it?”

Me: “The total came to 75 cents.”

Woman: “Here. You know, I don’t like your attitude.”

Me: “Excuse me? I caught this kid stealing—“

Woman: “How did you know he was stealing?”

Me: “Well, he took candy with his hands, without using a bag, and he said he didn’t have any money.”

Woman: “Your attitude is horrible! What’s your name?”

(I give her my name and, despite me wearing a nametag, she spells it wrong.)

Woman: “What’s your last name?”

Me: “I don’t have to give that to you.”

Woman: “What’s your badge number?”

Me: “Let me just call my manager.”

(She rants to my manager, and afterward, he pulls me aside.)

Manager: “You did nothing wrong; don’t worry.”

(That was the first time I saw someone stand up for someone stealing!)

(I’m working the chocolate display case in a candy store when a woman approaches me.)

Customer: “How much are the chocolate pretzels?”

Me: *speaking normally* “Well, they’re sold by weight, but they’re usually around two or three dollars.”

Customer: *angrily* “Well, sorry to bother you!”

(I try to process what just happened while the woman walks over to my coworker.)

Woman: “How much are the chocolate pretzels?”

Coworker: “They’re sold by weight, usually around two or three dollars.”

Woman: “Thank you. I’ll have some!”

(To this day I still don’t understand how I offended her.)

(In 2012, I’m getting ready to move to Louisiana with my boyfriend, and as the moving date gets closer, I’m excited enough that I’ve started yapping about it to customers every so often. Most of them have fairly generic, “Good for you,” “Have fun,” and, “Aw, romance,” type responses. Some of them suggest specific restaurants and attractions I should visit if I’m in the right area. However, one guy’s advice sticks out to me in particular.)

Customer: “Stay away from New Orleans. That’s a murder city.”

(My now-husband’s father lives in New Orleans, and we visit him regularly. I’m pretty sure I haven’t been murdered yet.)

(A woman is browsing my store when there is a sudden burst of loud, unintelligible screaming out in the hall.)

Customer: “What was that?!“

Me: “It’s a disabled man. His family or caretakers bring him to the mall every now and then.”

Customer: “Oh. Well, you never know, with all those terrorists out there.”

Me: “Okay, then.”

(My company switched their ordering system this year to large shipments every other month instead of regular shipments every month. Because of this, we can sometimes run out of popular candy in the last week or so before the shipment comes in.)

Customer: “What?! You’re out of [Popular Candy #1] and [Popular Candy #2]?! I’ve got to talk to a manager! Are you the manager?”

Me: *shrugging* “I’m the associate manager.”

Customer: “Well, now we’ve got to fight.”

Me: “Okay. Put ’em up!”

(I start “threatening” the customer by waving my fists at her cartoonishly. She laughs, but then accidentally knocks over a box of lollipops, spilling them on the floor.)

Me: “Oh, now we’ve really got to fight!”

(We didn’t fight, but she did buy a couple of lollipops.)