Back in the 1980s, I worked at a small-ish convenience store at the city center underground passageway. My job was to take care of the meat produce counter and cooler at the back of the store.

One morning, just after clocking in, I was leaning against the counter and felt a tingling sensation. Somewhat foolhardily, I pressed my thumb against the metal counter and my index finger (of the same hand) against a metal sink that was just about ten centimeters from the counter. Yep, I could feel a small electric current going through my hand. The counter was plugged into a grounded socket as it should be, so it was apparent that there was some internal problem with the counter electronics — and a risk of even fatal shock if that problem got worse.

So, of course, I mentioned it to the shift manager.

Shift Manager: “Oh, yeah, it has been like that for a while. Nobody has found what the problem is.”

And so, nothing happened. There was no replacement counter and no repairs. After a few days, I got tired of these small electric shocks I got every time I touched the counter and demanded to have at least a piece of wire. The shift manager got me a piece of old multiconductor cable that I taped between the counter and the sink with standard office sellotape. So, no shocks or tingling after that. But the counter was still faulty – but it kept its cool, so no problem for the managers.

The indifference of the management was just one of the reasons I quit just a week after. I didn’t visit the store for a couple of years, but when I finally did, I could see my sellotaped piece of cable still connecting the meat counter and the sink.

I work in a larger newsagency in a shopping centre in Australia. It is a Saturday, and there is a very large lottery jackpot being drawn tonight, upwards of $120 million AUD. We have all three registers at our lottery counter open, which is a very rare occurrence, and have scheduled extra staff to deal with the huge number of people buying tickets today. The line for the lottery counter wraps the entire way around the store and down a few aisles.

Me: “Hi, who’s next, please?”

Customer: “Hi. Can I please have five $20 quick-picks for tonight’s draw?”

Me: “Sure, no worries.”

I print them for him.

Me: “That comes to $100. Was that cash or card today?”

Customer: “Cash, please.”

He pulls a giant bag of silver coins out of his bag and starts pulling out a handful of coins to start counting them.

Me: “Absolutely not.”

Customer: “What, why?! It’s legal tender.”

Me: “Are you serious? I’m not accepting that.”

Customer: “But why?! You have to take it!”

Me: “I do not. Aside from the fact that I legally only have to accept up to $5 worth of coins, have you looked around? All of these people are waiting, and no one has time to wait for you to count out your coins and for me to then double-count them to confirm you have paid the correct amount.”

Customer: “But you could just—”

Me: “No. Either find some notes, pay by card, or get out of the store.”

He complains, but he pulls out a card and pays while staring daggers at me.

Me: “Thank you, and have a nice day!”

Next Customer: “Was that guy for real? What an a**hole!”

It is Lunar New Year, and while no one in the store is Chinese, we are located in Chinatown, so we have a few celebration posters up and we are enjoying some of the celebrations outside while we work.

A grumpy-looking customer comes up to the counter.

Customer: “What’s all that ruckus outside?!”

Me: “It’s Lunar New Year, so the Chinese community is celebrating.”

Customer: “Bah! Why did they invent their own new year, trying to be special?! We should all celebrate the one true New Year, as told by Jesus Christ!”

Me: “I don’t think that’s in the Bible.”

Customer: “Of course it is! It’s a Christian holiday!”

Me: “I don’t think—”

Customer: *Interrupting* “That’s your first mistake! When you have Jesus, you don’t need to think.”

Me: “That… explains a lot. Will that be everything, sir?”

I’m in college and working in a [Convenience Store Chain]. It’s a typical day at work. The customers have all been the usual “I’ll grab this and that and use the bathroom” types. I see a woman take a box of Coca-Cola, open it, pull out a can, and then drink from it.

Me: “Ma’am, you’ll have to pay for that.”

SHE PUTS THE CAN BACK IN THE BOX AND THEN RESEALS IT. I have the most dumbstruck look on my face.

Customer: “No, I don’t. It’s a free country. I can do whatever I want.”

Me: “Ma’am, you have to pay for that since you took a sip out of that can.”

She then walked away from me, hopped in her car, and then drove off. I luckily caught her license plate.

A few days later, a policeman came by to take a statement. I was wondering why that was required just for a Coke, and I found out that she had been arrested and had a bunch of other charges, too! That ended up being a very expensive sip of Coke for her!

I was a member of a youth group for young men aged thirteen to twenty. We referred to each other as “brothers”. We had an event one Saturday evening, and I was asked to give three of my brothers rides home. The older two and I planned to get some beer after the event and then drive out to the desert and drink. We were all over eighteen — the drinking age at the time. I just needed to take the youngest, who was thirteen, home first.

To save a little time, I stopped at [Convenience Store] to get some beer before taking the youngest brother home. Knowing that it’d look suspicious, I parked on the side of the store so that the clerk wouldn’t think I was buying beer for an underage kid. I instructed him to stay in the car while I got my beer.

When I was second in line, my underage brother came in, walked right up to me, and asked where the bathroom was. I quickly pointed to the back corner of the store, hoping the clerk didn’t notice. (I also gave a hard eye-roll.)

The clerk IDed me but didn’t raise an issue about the young kid that had talked to me. I bought the beer, went out to my car, and waited for the young brother. I drove him home, and then we went out to the desert to drink and watch the stars.

On Monday, I ran into one of my other brothers at the college campus.

Brother: “Are you in any trouble?”

Me: “I don’t think so. Why?”

Brother: “I was at [Convenience Store] on Saturday at [time shortly after we left]. There were police there, and the clerk was giving a very good description of you to the officers.”

For the rest of my college years, I avoided that convenience store like the plague.