(My mom and I are in line at the checkout. The manager walks over and tells the cashier it is time for her to go home after she is done helping us. We chose this register because my mom really likes this particular cashier.)

Me: “So, you get to go home early tonight? That must be nice.”

Cashier: *quietly, so the manager, now standing by door, does not hear* “It would be if it only happened once in a while. He’s cut me at least fifteen minutes early every shift for over two weeks.”

Mom: “We can be really difficult so you’ll have to stay and help us.” *louder, so manager can hear* “[My Name], is that the price you remember seeing for [item]? I was sure it was less than that.”

Me: *catching on* “It must have been. I think we need a price check.”

Mom: *after price check confirms item is right price* “Oh, and could you please slow down on the bagging? I don’t want anything smashed or broken.”

(My mom continues to delay, insisting the cashier stop several times to read the total to her or double check something. Then, she pretends she cannot find her debit card and takes her time entering her PIN.)

Mom: “Has it been long enough yet?”

Cashier: “I think so. Thank you.”

Me: “Okay, mama. I think we should go now.”

(We walk toward the door, and my mom turns back toward the cashier.)

Mom: “Thank you, ma’am! You were so helpful!”

Me: *smiling at manager* “Good night!”

(My niece is only seven years old, but she already has a bizarre imagination. My brother tells me about an incident while he was chopping vegetables for dinner.)

Niece: “Daddy, I came out of my room and found a knife in a pool of blood.”

Brother: *not concerned* “Oh, that sounds bad.”

Niece: “I think my teddy bear killed someone.”

(She proceeds to take her teddy bear away and ‘question’ it. Then she returns with my brother’s ‘Babylon 5’ figurine.)

Niece: “My teddy bear told me that Londo was the bad guy.”

Brother: “That sounds like something Londo would do.”

(My niece runs away to ‘question’ the figurine. She comes back again.)

Niece: “Londo didn’t do it. I know who did.” *she points dramatically at my brother* “You did it, Daddy!”

(My niece proceeded to ‘arrest’ my brother and ‘lock him up’ in their den. My brother insisted this was my fault for giving her ‘Lemony Snicket’ books.)

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(I am working the control center for the self checkouts when I overhear a customer having a conversation with the self checkout machine.)

Self Checkout: “Are you using your own bags?”

Customer: “NO. I’M USING THE SOULS OF SMALL CHILDREN. WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THAT?!”

Self Checkout: “Please place the item in the bagging area.”

(On the day before Father’s Day, with a huge sale going on, the coworker who is supposed to come in to work with me doesn’t show up. I am swamped and can’t answer any phone calls. I just stay at the counter ringing people up. We are so busy that I don’t have time to call any of my coworkers to see if they can come in to cover the shift. There is only about half an hour until two other coworkers are coming in, so I just do my best until then. With a line about ten customers long, a customer comes storming up to the register and interrupts the conversation I’m having with the customer currently at my register.)

Customer: “I need some help! Where is the employee who should be working the sales floor right now?”

Me: “I’m very sorry, ma’am, but no one else is here right now. If you’ll kindly wait in line, I’d be glad to help you shortly.”

Customer: “What?! This is outrageous! You should have more than one person working! Everyone knows that is just good business!”

Me: “Unfortunately, there was a scheduling mix-up. I’m the only one here right now.”

Customer: “But I need one of you to help me find something! What am I supposed to do? That’s what you all get paid to do! I am very busy and I need to get my Father’s Day gifts bought! I don’t have all day! Really, on a holiday, you should have more than one person working!”

(Since the customer isn’t listening to me, I just turn back to serving the line at the counter. I finish the next customer, and try to explain the schedule issue again, but she’s not having any of it. One of our regular customers is standing nearby at a sale table and finally speaks up.)

Regular Customer: “Ma’am, what is wrong with your hearing? She just explained to you that her coworker didn’t show up! I think she’s doing a remarkable job handling all of this by herself. You are just making things worse!”

Customer: “All I need is to see if they have these items in stock! Can’t she see I am in a hurry?”

Regular Customer: “As are most of us. It’s a busy holiday at a popular store. What do you expect? When people don’t show up to do their jobs it makes it harder on the rest of their coworkers, especially when there’s only one other person working!”

Customer: “But—”

Regular Customer: “Now, I don’t work here, but I shop here often. In favor of giving everyone in line and this poor employee a break, I’m going to help you find what you need. But only so you leave us all alone!”

(I thank the regular and the two disappear into the back of the store. The customers in line make some comments. A moment later, the original customer storms to the front and out the door. I turn to the regular customer as she returns.)

Me: “What happened?”

Regular Customer: “You didn’t have the item she wanted. Her sale flyer was for the bookstore down the street.”

(I work at a geology museum. A woman and her son, who looks about five, walk in. The boy is entranced by the mammoths, dinosaurs, and marine reptile skeletons on display. The mother looks unimpressed, and is on the phone for most of her stay. Since the building is kept at a pleasant temperature, she drops her heavy coat off with me at the front desk. Later, I spot her heading for the exit.)

Me: “I hope you had a good time at our museum. Did you have any questions before you go?”

Mother: “I’m not interested in your stupid dinosaurs.”

(She heads for the elevator, which is around a corner. I assume she has her child waiting there, since I can’t see him in the rest of the museum. Three hours later, I see her son wandering around the displays, looking lost. I rush over to him.)

Me: “Hey, buddy. What are you doing here?”

Son: *in the most heartbroken voice ever* “Have you seen Mommy? I fell asleep.”

Me: “I saw her a little while ago, bud. Why don’t you have a seat over here? Do you have your mom’s phone number, or a way to contact her?”

(Fortunately, he has a list of emergency contact numbers in a tiny wallet. I call the one labeled ‘Mom’ in blue crayon, after giving him some paper and colored pencils.)

Mother: “Who is this?!”

Me: “This is [My Name], from [Museum]. We have—”

Mother: “You d*** well better ship me my coat, you b****! That’s a $500 coat, and I’m already on the other side of the state!”

Me: “You also left your son here, ma’am. And I don’t have a box in his size.”

Mother: *after a brief pause* “You son of a b****! You should have told me I left my kid behind! It’s going to take me five f****** hours to get back there!”

(I decided to end the call, and instead called the police department. The mother stormed in a little over four hours later, long after the museum was supposed to be closed. She had a nice long conversation with child-care services. Her son gave me a hug and thanked me for staying with him. I still have his drawing of a plesiosaur.)

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