I work in the paint department. A guy comes to order paint.

Me: “Is it for exterior or interior use?”

Customer: “I don’t know what that means.”

Me: “It means outside or inside?”

Customer: “I’m not sure.”

Me: “What are you painting? What’s the project?”

Customer: “I don’t know.”

Me: “I can’t really help you if I don’t know what you’re painting.”

Customer: *Annoyed.* “What use are you if you can’t help me?!”

Me: “Okay, I can send you somewhere that can help. Take the mall exit from this store.”

Customer: “Okay?”

Me: “And then go up to the third floor, way at the back, is Madame Voyante’s.”

Customer: “That doesn’t sound like a hardware store.”

Me: “That’s because it’s not. She’s a mind reader, and you need one.”

Customer: “F****** smart-a**!”

He stormed off. In hindsight, maybe sending him a mind reader wasn’t the best idea; you kinda need a mind for that.

Customer: “The apples are on special! 25% off!”

Me: “I’m sorry. Let me fix that for you.”

Customer: “I shouldn’t have to tell you!”

Me: “I’m sorry, it’s my first day.”

Customer: *Softens a little.* “Oh, well, that’s fine, I suppose. You’ll remember for next time.”

Me: “I will, and thanks for being understanding!”

The customer leaves, and a coworker one lane over says:

Coworker: “[My Name], what happens when you try that ‘it’s my first day’ routine on a customer who knows you’ve been here for three years and that you’re the assistant manager? One day, someone will recognize you.”

Me: “First of all, these are our customers. They’re so self-centered that they need a mirror to have a conversation. We don’t even register as people to them. And the ones that do remember us are the nice ones who wouldn’t need me to try the “it’s my first day” schtick to begin with.”

Coworker: “Hmm, still seems a bit deceptive.”

Me: “Of course it’s deceptive, but it saves you so much stress. You should try it sometime.”

My coworker says they’ll think about it, and we get on with our shift.

A couple of weeks later, while my coworker is serving another problem customer.

Customer: “You’re scanning too fast! I can’t bag my items in time!”

Coworker: “Sorry, ma’am. I’ll slow down.”

Customer: “You should keep an eye on your customers as you scan, so you can take into account their needs!”

Coworker: “I will remember that, ma’am.”

Customer: “And another thing—”

Me: *Coming over and stepping in.* “—Sorry, ma’am. It’s her first day.”

Customer: *Wind removed from her sails.* “Oh… well, still, this is how they learn, although it does make things a little more understandable.”

The customer finishes the transaction in silence, and my coworker looks astonished.

Coworker: “It’s… like a cheat code!”

Me: “Told you!”

Suddenly, it was everyone’s first day, every day. That was six weeks ago, and not a single customer has noticed.

I am unfortunate enough to get assigned a middle seat on the long flight I’m about to take. Worse, I appear to be sitting between a couple who tried that strategy of booking the window and aisle seats, hoping that the middle seat between them would remain vacant, so they’re resenting me as soon as I sit down. 

Within minutes of sitting down, I realize I don’t seem to be their biggest problem; however, as they are constantly bickering with each other.

Him: “A ten-hour flight with you, dear. How lucky I am, considering you barely give me five minutes a day back home.”

Her: “Maybe if you were interesting, I’d want to spend more time with you.”

Him: “Maybe if you were worth being interesting for, I’d make an effort!”

And so on and so forth. Less than an hour into the flight, I’d learned that one (or both) of them had cheated, that they both thought couples counseling had been a waste of time, and one of them woke up from a nightmare recently, saw their spouse sleeping next to them, and started missing the nightmare.

Me: “Would you like to switch seats?”

Her: “And sit next to him? No, thank you.”

Him: “Similar sentiment.”

Me: “Well then, would you mind not talking to each other for the rest of the flight, or I’m going to have to insist.”

Her: “Calm down, it’s not like we’re physically in your space.”

They were silent for a few more minutes, but then one of them started to pipe up at mealtime.

Her: “Oh, look, you asked for the fatty carb option again. How surprising—”

Me: *Loud, to both of them.* “—WONDERFUL WEATHER WE’RE HAVING, AREN’T WE?!”

Both: “Uh… what?”

Me: *Adding some manic energy.* “I SAID, WONDERFUL WEATHER WE’RE HAVING, AREN’T WE?!”

Him: “…We’re on a plane.”

Silent for a few more minutes.

Him: *Scrolling the movie options.* “Oh, look, they have that movie all about you. Gone In Sixty Seconds—”

Me: “—I LIKE RAISINS!”

Both: “Huh?”

Me: “—I LIKE RAISINS… AND CARROTS!”

Her: “Could you please be quiet?!”

Me: “Calm down, it’s not like I’m physically in your space.”

Her: “…”

Him: “…”

Me: “…”

Him: “Take my seat.”

Me: “Oh, well, if you insist!”

I took the aisle seat and left them to bear each other’s company up close and personal. Instead of bickering between them, they just glared at me the entire flight. I think by giving them a common enemy I might have fixed their marriage!

Another Sunday, another story of the after-church diner crowd. After a long time of receiving religious flyers instead of tips from these people, my manager gets an idea. As we’re opening on Sunday morning:

Manager: “Here, I made these over the last week. Keep some in your apron and dish them out when appropriate.”

He lays out a selection of home-made and printed ‘religious’ flyers, with titles like:

• A brief history of why Jesus would’ve left 20%.
• Jesus loves everyone, but the waitstaff have notes.
• Why the power of prayer does not extend to making rent.
• Forgive them, Father; they know exactly what they owe.

I took one of each, and it didn’t take long before I had to use one. A family has paid and is up and leaving when I catch up to them at the exit.

Me: “Excuse me, I wanted to say thank you for the tip!”

Customers: *Looking awkward.* “Uh, well, thanks. We think the word of God is priceless, so—”

Me: “—yes, yes, I get all that. I figured since you were kind enough to give me one of yours, I’ll give you one of mine.”

I hand them the flyer, and the dad takes it before reading it. His face pales when he sees the title.

Title: “Voodoo, curses, and summoning entities: dealing with cheap customers the right way.”

Me: *Customer service smile turned up to maniacal.* “This should be a good guide to everything that’s about to happen, starting from tonight!”

He drops the flyer immediately and ushers his family out. They haven’t been back since, but I like to think that for every little unexplained noise they hear in their home, they think of me and my smile.

My veteran pharmacists and I have a few strategies in place to keep us sane when dealing with nightmare customers.

Customer: “[Competing Pharmacy Chain] always does this for me! I’m never coming back here again!”

Me: *Looking remorseful and picking up the phone.* “Oh no, I’m sorry to see you go! Would you like me to call and have your scripts transferred?”

Cue them s***ting bricks and backpedaling like crazy. The backpedaling is sometimes derailed by my coworker walking into the customer’s line of sight, armed with an unpopped party popper, just raring to go.

Like I said, it keeps us sane.