(I work in a store, where a lot of tourists come through. A German motorcyclist couple are on their way up to the North Cape.)

Customer: “Oh, your country is so beautiful! We’re going all the way up to the North Cape on our motorcycle.”

Me: “Wow, how fun! Hope you get lucky with the weather then.”

Customer: “Thank you, dear. Yes, we have always wanted to see the midnight sun. We have saved up for this trip for years.”

Me: “Well, then I really hope the weather gods are on your side. It would be a shame if it were all cloudy and grey when you get there.”

Customer: “Oh, they say the midnight sun is so bright, it’ll shine through just about anything when it comes up! Can’t wait!”

Me: “When it comes up? The sun is up all the time now.”

Customer: “What? We’re here to see the midnight sun! You know, the one that shines at midnight?!”

Me: “Ma’am, the midnight sun is the sun. The only sun. Only difference is that it’s so high here up north that it never sets. It just circles around a little. Therefore we can see it at night.”

Customer: “What!” *she turns to her husband and rants in German* “Did you hear that? We’ve been ripped off! It’s the same sun as we have at home! And to think we came to this s*** expensive country, drove all the way, and it’s the same sun?!”

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(The night previous we had a customer shoplift about $300 worth of merchandise while I was on shift. Thankfully, while she did get away with quite a bit, she escaped with only one boot of a pair, as I had removed the second boot, with ink tag intact, pending acceptance of her check.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Store]. What can we help you find today?”

Caller: “Hi! I was at your store last night and the lady that helped me shorted us a shoe!”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. What style was it?”

Caller: “A [Brand]. It was the right shoe. She was going to take the tag off and never did! I live far away, so do you think you could transfer it to the [Different Location] store?”

Me: “I don’t believe that would be feasible as we don’t have a way to get it to that store, but we might be able to mail it to you! Can I get your name, phone number, and address?”

Caller: “Sure. It is [Name, number, and address].”

(I got off the phone looking like the Cheshire Cat. The thief had just given her full name, phone number, and address.)

(I am working the tills at a supermarket. I am of Vietnamese descent but was born in London. An older gentleman comes through my till.)

Customer: *practically shouting* “Ni-Hao!”

Me: “Hello to you, too, sir, but that’s Chinese. I am actually Vietnamese.”

(I point to my name tag which in our shop goes by family name instead of first name. Mine is the very common Nguyen.)

Customer: “Don’t lie!”

Me: “I assure you, sir, I am Vietnamese.”

Customer: “There aren’t any Vietnamese people left!”

Me: “Pardon?”

Customer: “Yeah, the Americans killed them all back in the seventies or something.”

Me: “I think you may have your history confused. I assure you there is still a Vietnam and it is full of Vietnamese people.”

Customer: “Well, I don’t know how you managed to escape, but I wouldn’t say it so loudly. There might be Americans around looking for survivors.”

Me: *as I ring up his last item* “Probably a good idea. That will be £10.34, please.”

Customer: *as he pays* “Wouldn’t want a young lad like you getting caught!”

(The customer heads towards the exit but unfortunately notices the security guard who also happens to be my brother. He is six feet tall and a body-builder and I dread what might happen.)

Customer: “Ni-Hao!”

Brother: “Actually, I’m Vietnamese.”

Customer: “Another one?! But the Americans wiped you all out!”

Brother: *standing to full height* “I think you might want to just keep on walking.”

Customer: “How dare you talk to me like that?! I’m going to call the Americans, and then they’ll come down here and shoot you!”

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(I am working as a bartender at a restaurant. The waitress has added a 15% gratuity because the party has been large and difficult to deal with.)

Customer: “Miss? What’s this ‘gravity’ crap?! I ain’t paying for no ‘gravity’!”

Waitress: *without missing a beat* “Ma’am, that’s what holds the food to your plate.”

Customer: “Oh, all right, then.” *pays the check*

(It’s early morning. I need to organise my notes, so I sit down in the Reception area. The suited guy next to me is looking very nervous.)

Suited Guy: “You’re a bit of a porker, eh?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Suited Guy: “You’re really chubby. I mean, they told me they were considering someone else for the position as well. But if you’re all I’ve got to compete with, I’ve got it already!”

(I realise that his pre-interview technique is from some old self-help book about psyching out the competition.)

Suited Guy: “And I was so nervous too! Guess you don’t have much of a chance, huh?”

(I consult my notes.)

Me: “Mr. Becker?”

Suited Guy: “Yeah, that’s me! How’d you know that? You’re here for the job too, right?”

Me: “No, Mr. Becker. I’m Gary Robbins, a technical specialist from Human Resources. I’m here to conduct your interview.”

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