A lady asks for one pound of shaved ham. I take out all the ham we have left in the entire deli and shave as much as I can until the very end is left. It’s still not a pound, so I decide to hand-shred the remaining chunk. It comes to about nine-tenths of a pound, so I give it to her anyway because most people don’t pitch fits over this small of a difference.

This customer, however, gives me the stink eye as I hand her the ham and ask if she needs anything else.

Customer: “I asked for a pound.”

Me: “This is every speck of ham that we have here. I’m sorry it’s not perfect.”

Customer: “You couldn’t have gone in the back for more?”

Me: “I looked earlier and there’s no more of this brand. I’m sorry.”

Customer: “Well then, tell me that!”

I tried to tell her that I did, but she was already walking away.

Customer: “One pound of shrimp.”

I grab a couple of handfuls and throw them on the scale. It’s one pound on the dot.

Kid: “Wow! You got it on the first try!”

Customer: *Rolls eyes* “The sign says, ‘Twenty to thirty to a pound.’ He just counted twenty shrimp. He didn’t do anything special.”

I work the meat counter.

Customer: “I need boneless beef neck bones.”

Me: “That’s basically our stew meat. I also have some boneless short ribs, but they’re a little pricier.”

Customer: “I said I want boneless neck bones. Neck bones without the bones.”

Me: “That’s not really a thing.”

I am at the grocery store with my roommate in college. They pick up a piece of hot food from the deli, do their weekly shopping for thirty minutes, and then check out.

Roommate: *Complaining* “My food has gotten cold.”

Me: “You pulled it out of the heater a half-hour ago.”

Roommate: “But I just paid for it like three minutes ago.”

Related:
Thermodynamics, You Take It From Here, Part 6
Thermodynamics, You Take It From Here, Part 5
Thermodynamics, You Take It From Here, Part 4
Thermodynamics, You Take It From Here, Part 3
Thermodynamics, You Take It From Here, Part 2

It’s seven in the morning on a Tuesday — a generally uneventful day. It’s just me and my boss and a beer vendor. I am watching a strange person pressing their face against every glass door of the cooler where we keep the beer. They eventually reach the cooler door where my boss and the vendor are talking. My boss looks at them awkwardly.

Customer: “Hey, got any good beer suggestions?”

Boss: “Yes.” *Points to a four-pack*

Customer: “Thank you.”

The customer turns toward where I am standing, smiling behind the counter, patiently waiting to assist them. They say “hello” to me as they start slowly trying to stuff the four-pack up the bottom of their jacket.

Customer: “I’m just gonna…”

He grabs a free newspaper and starts heading for the door.

Me: *Absolutely flabbergasted* “Uh, excuse me. Are you going to pay for that?”

Customer: “No.” *Continues walking very casually*

After wrapping my head around what has just happened, I tell my boss and we begin to hoof it down the main street after this person. After my kind words are unable to get our beer back from them, my boss makes a threat to call the cops, and our beer is retrieved. As my boss and I walk back to work, he exclaims:

Boss: “On a Tuesday morning… Jesus!”