(I am working as a deli clerk at a very well-known grocery chain. We used to have blue shirts and a black apron. However, we have recently switched to green aprons. An older male customer, who is also missing teeth, comes up to me.)

Me: “Hi, sir! Is there anything I can help you with today?”

Customer: “No, I just have a question. Do you like your uniforms?”

Me: *thinking this is a strange question, but there seems to be no harm in answering* “Well, I don’t mind the blue shirts, because that is my favorite color. The green aprons combined with the blue shirts are kind of a bad combination, though.”

Customer: “Oh, well, I bet you would look great in just the apron.”

Me: “…”

(It’s a slow day at work. My coworker and I are standing behind the counter making idle chat.)

Me: “Know what I’ve been thinking about?”

Coworker: “What?”

Me: “Kids’ sports movies.”

Coworker: “Kids’ sports movies?”

Me: “Yuh huh. Specifically, the fact that they’re all exactly the same.”

Coworker: “What do you mean?”

Me: “I mean how they all have the exact same plot, the exact same characters, the exact same tone, everything.”

Coworker: *sounding unconvinced* “Hmmm…”

Me: “Think about it. You always have the exact same set of stereotypical characters: the nerd, the fat kid, the black kid who only talks in pseudo-racist jive, the girl playing on the boys’ team just to prove she can, and the guy who could be a superstar if he could just get past his piddling first-world emotional problems.”

Coworker: “You know, I think I see what you mean. Don’t forget the alcoholic coach trying to relive his glory days.”

Me: “Exactly. And our ragtag band of misfits always has to play the team of rich snobs in the championship game who taunted and defeated them at the beginning of the movie.”

Coworker: “And the coach of the rich snobs’ team was the one who humiliated our heroes’ coach way back when.”

Me: “Right. And our heroes lose their first couple of games until a pep talk from the coach inspires them, and then they destroy every successive opponent they face until the championship game, when the rich snobs are kicking their butts at halftime. Then the would-be superstar finally gets his head out of his butt and helps them turn things around in the second half and they win.”

Coworker: “And as the second half of the championship game begins, it shows a montage of our heroes evening the score set to CCR’s ‘Up Around the Bend.'”

Me: “Hah! Totally! That’s like the ultimate ‘sports-getting-your-act-in-gear’ song.”

Coworker: “You know, you’re right.”

Me: “Like I told you, dude. They’re all the same.”

Customer: “How DARE you!”

Both Of Us: “Huh?”

(A customer has just walked up to the counter and overheard the last thing I said.)

Customer: “How DARE you say that all African-Americans are the same?! You RACIST!”

Me: “What? African-Americans? No, we were talking about kids’ sports movies.”

Customer: “You said ‘They’re all the same’!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. I was saying that all of those movies are the same.”

Customer: “Don’t you lie to me, you racist scum! Anyone who says ‘They’re all the same’ is talking about African-Americans!”

Coworker: “Ma’am, I promise you that’s not what we were talking about.”

Customer: “Shut up, you racist! This whole store is racist! I don’t have to put up with this racist store! This is the MOST offensive thing I’ve ever heard in my ENTIRE life and I demand compensation for this insulting racism!”

Me: “Uh… I’m sorry?”

Customer: “You’ll be sorry when your racist a** is out on the street!”

(She stomped off to the customer service counter to complain. Apparently she didn’t get the reaction she wanted from the store manager because she stomped out of the store all together a minute later. Also, she was white.)

(I’m the assistant manager of a deli at the Grand Canyon that, because of the landmark’s worldwide popularity, receives a lot of foreigners, especially Europeans. Consequently, they don’t know the country layout that well and ask any “official” looking employee about it. I am finishing ringing a foreign guest up on the till.)

Me: “And that’ll be [total]; is there anything else I can do for you today?”

Customer: “Yes, I was wondering if you could tell me when we would see the ‘Liberty Lady?’” *he raises his fist like he’s holding a torch* “We’ve been driving since Florida and haven’t seen her yet.”

Me: “Sir, I think you’re going to have to go back the direction where you came from, and then North from there to see her.”

Customer: “You mean, she isn’t here?”

Me: “No, she is not. She is located in New York, which is about 2,500 miles to the North and East of where we are.”

Customer: *turns to wife* “I told you we should have stayed by the water!”

(We’re in the middle of a busy spurt of the day in the deli of a grocery store. At this time, there are only two deli clerks: a boy, who is still training, and me. The trainee lands himself a customer known to have an attitude problem and wants him to open a new ham and block of cheese to slice. I am helping other customers as they come.)

Me: “Who was next?”

Bad Customer: “This is taking forever! I’ll have some potato salad!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we’re not supposed to double up on a guest; I need to help other customers first.”

(I return to helping others after apologizing and offering her a free sample of our dessert, as the trainee emerges from the cooler with the items in tow. He begins to slice her two pounds after she repeatedly reminds him to lay the ham flat. Two minutes then pass.)

Bad Customer: “He’s taking such a long time! How hard is it to slice some d*** cheese and ham?!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but he’s still in training, and it probably took him a minute to find them.”

Bad Customer: “I’m in a hurry! I want an experienced worker!”

(I’m barely out of training myself, but I inform the trainee that I was going to take over and for him to take care of other customers. He thanks me and rushes off. I begin to slice her ham and cheese, after she informs me twice that she wants them flat.)

Me: “Here you go, ma’am. Was there anything else tonight?”

Bad Customer: “No, thank you. But you should inform your manager that trainees shouldn’t be out here where customers are busy and want to go home. I only want experienced workers helping me!”

(I’m still not sure how you can be experienced if you’re not trained.)

(A customer approaches the counter with her approximately three-year-old son.)

Customer: “Can I please have two pounds of bologna?”

Coworker: “Sure, German or all beef style?”

Customer: “Oh, uh… I think my son here likes the beef.”

Coworker: “I can gladly give him a slice to try so you can be sure it’s the one he wants.”

Customer: “No, the beef is fine. Two pounds, please.”

(My coworker slices the two pounds of bologna and hands it to the customer. The customer opens the bag and hands a slice to her son. He takes a small bite before making a disapproving face and handing his mother the slice back.)

Customer: “Oh, I guess it’s the German he wants. Here, take the beef back and I’ll have two pounds of German style.”