(This takes place in a deli in a grocery store. It’s very common for customers to only ask for two to five slices of meat if they just want enough to make a sandwich.)

Customer: “I’d like four slices, kind of thick, of the [Brand] turkey.”

Me: “Sure thing.”

(I slice a piece of the turkey and show it to her to make sure the thickness is okay.)

Customer: “Yeah, that’s fine.”

(I finish and tag the turkey, and the price comes out to $3.57. The customer takes the turkey, thanks me, and walks away. About half an hour later, the same customer walks up to the deli again without her cart or meat.)

Customer: “I had to return the turkey; I don’t understand why it was so expensive.”

Me: “Uh… Okay, would you like something else?”

(I’m a little confused since she saw the price before she took the turkey.)

Customer: “I just don’t understand why the turkey was so expensive. I got it yesterday and it was only $2!”

Me: “Well, it could have been how thick it was cut.”

Customer: “Okay, can you cut it a little thinner?”

(So, I cut her four slices of the same turkey, thinner, and the price is around two dollars.)

Customer: “Okay, add a couple more slices.”

(I add two more slices.)

Customer: “No, no, no, that’s too expensive again!”

Me: “But you just told me to add two more slices.”

Customer: “It’s not for me; I’m not trying to get in trouble again.”

(I take a slice off and tag it, and she thanks me and walks away.)

Next Customer: “Wow, I promise I won’t be that difficult!”

(I’m working in a supermarket deli near closing time when an older looking woman comes up to the counter. I’m alone except for a night manager and a few people at the cash registers and they’re all up towards the front of the store. We also have a pharmacist, but they closed hours before.)

Me: “What can I do for you?”

Customer: “I was wondering if you have a copy machine?”

Me: “We do. Why?”

(The machine is in the break-room and in all my years working there no one has ever asked me to use it.)

Customer: “I was wondering if you could scan and copy these documents for me. I want to keep them in my personal record but I don’t have a copy machine.”

(She hands me a couple small pieces of paper. I realize they look like medical prescriptions. I hand them back and tell her I can’t.)

Customer: “All I wanted was some copies! Why can’t anyone be decent anymore?!”

(She left and I told my store manager. Apparently she had come in a few times during the day and asked random associates to do so for her.)

(It’s time to close the deli. As usual, the last minute customer rushes in in a panic.)

Customer: “You aren’t closed yet are you?”

Me: “No problem, I can still help you. What can I get you?”

Customer: “Ummmmmm, let’s see…”

(Two minutes tick by as the customer sucks at her teeth and disregards suggestions with silence as though I am not there.)

Customer: “How much is this brand of roast beef compared to that brand?”

(I tell her. She doesn’t like it. So I wait…)

Customer: “How many nitrates does this one have?”

(I show her the back of the meat package.)

Customer: *pouts* “This doesn’t tell me anything.”

(And I am supposed to know?)

Customer: “How long until it expires?”

(I told her. She then ordered three very thin slices of bologna and left, ignoring my thanks. How wasteful and irritating it was to open a whole package of meat, at closing time, for someone who practically came to the counter to enjoy treating someone else like crap.)

(My coworker has a habit of waving to customers as he greets them. He does this with his arm in an L-shape, the upper arm parallel to the floor, the forearm pointing straight up, and waving with his palm facing the customer.)

Coworker: *waving* “Hi! Can I help you?”

Customer: “OH, MY GOD! Are you doing the Hitler salute?!”

Coworker: *thunderstruck* “Uh…”

Customer: “What the f*** is this, some kind of Nazi Mart?! Do you have any idea how offensive it is when I come up here to get some meat like a normal person and to have someone go, ‘HEIL HITLER!’ out of the f****** blue?!”

Coworker: “Wait, you mean this?” *points to the waving hand with the other hand*

Customer: “OH, MY GOD, you just did it again!”

Coworker: “No, no, that’s not the Hitler salute. This is what the Hitler salute looks like.”

Me: “[Coworker], don’t!”

(Too late. He gives the Hitler salute, with his arm fully extended and slightly raised, palm down. Quick as lightning, the customer whips out her phone and takes a picture of him.)

Customer: “HA! I got you! You just wait until I show this to your boss, you f****** a**hole!”

(She went to the customer service desk and demanded to see the store manager. We couldn’t hear the conversation that followed, but we could hear the woman getting progressively louder and angrier, until the manager slammed his hands down on the counter and violently gestured for her to leave the store. She stomped out in a rage. Later on, the manager told us that she had demanded all her groceries for free or she’d take the picture to the local news and get us permanently branded as “Nazi Mart.” He didn’t even need to hear my coworker’s side of the story.)

(Me and my mom are in a deli at the time. While waiting I over-hear an employee and a customer’s conversation:)

Employee: “So, how would you like your cheese cut?” *meaning how thick*

Customer: “Well obviously for sandwiches!”