I work in the ladieswear department of a large store that has changing rooms for specific genders, although we make occasions for small children under the age of ten. There is a sign outside and on each door of the fitting rooms that it is one person per cubicle.

I’m working on the fitting rooms with a coworker who has just let a mother and son into the rooms, and I show them to an empty one. They have children’s clothes for the boy.

Me: “Feel free to sit just outside the room, ma’am.”

Mother: “What?! He’s only seven! I can’t leave him alone!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma—”

Mother: “Well, you know what? All the other shops allowed me in with him. I’m not shopping here anymore and I want to talk to your manager now!“

Me: “Ma’am, there’s no reason to cause a situation; there’s a double room available at the mo—”

Mother: “No! I am so angry right now!”

She storms out to the front where my coworker is and badgers her until we call a manager over. The little boy is standing with me with a red face.

Mother: “[Boy], get over here! We’re leaving right now!”

The little boy then moved to his mother, starting to cry, when my manager came along and pulled her to the side. A few minutes later, my coworker and I heard her screaming and shouting and watched her being removed from the store by a security guard, gingerly followed by the little boy.

My manager came back a little while later with a rather red cheek and she gave me and my coworker the rest of the day off. Apparently, this woman was well known for bringing the child in and stealing the most expensive children’s clothes we have in store, but we never were able to catch her in the act.

Related:
The Biggest Tantrums Do Not Come From The Babies

A woman has come in wanting something to ward off the creepy crawlies on her dog. We talk about what kind of creepy crawlies they are, and it transpires they are mites.

Me: “It definitely sounds like mites. This particular substance should help against them.” 

Customer: “I just see them flying and buzzing around my dog all the time.”

Me: “Mites don’t fly. They’re too heavy to fly, and they don’t have wings. Are you sure these aren’t fleas?”

Customer: “No, it’s mites. They definitely do fly around my dog.”

Me: “As I just explained, mites can’t fly.”

Customer: “Well, it’s just the forest life, isn’t it?”

Sadly, explaining to the customer that physics doesn’t work like that would’ve been considered somewhat rude.

I am working on the checkout and a customer approaches with a pre-packed bag of apples.

Customer: “Do you operate a try-before-you-buy policy in this store?”

Me: *Thinking he’s joking* “Sorry, sir, we don’t.”

Customer: “I don’t want them, then.”

He leaves the apples on the conveyor belt and walks out.

Me: “…”

Related:
Doesn’t End Up Liking Them Apples

I’m seen as the spreadsheets expert in the office, which isn’t saying much, as most in the office are useless with them. A colleague has asked me about something she wants to do, but before I can advise her, she runs off for a meeting. I decide to leave a note on her desk. A week later, she asks me to come over.

Colleague: “So, I found an answer to that problem. It’s called ‘Concatenate’.”

Me: “I know.”

Colleague: “And since you didn’t even try to help me, I’ve put in a complaint about your attitude. That’ll teach you to do your job.”

I point at the note that is literally in front of her, on her monitor.

Colleague: “…”

Me: “You were saying?”

She retracted the complaint, but not before making a fuss to my manager that I should have told her directly, and that I should be reprimanded for my attitude. My manager later told me that whenever I haven’t been able to help someone, she usually gets a complaint about it. However, since it has absolutely nothing to do with my actual responsibilities, she doesn’t see a reason to do anything.

She now forwards those complaints onto me, and I have to say I get quite a laugh out of them. My favourite so far is, “He never told me how to right-click. Hours wasted, millions lost.” It was about how to change the font to superscript, so he could give a face he was making mini cat ears.

I work in a specialist nursing home for people with severe and enduring mental health problems. A female resident with South East Asian origins enjoys cooking and offers to make traditional chai tea for staff, under supervision.

Whilst being assisted by a support worker whose English is not great, she adds more than fifty teaspoons of sugar to the pan, as well as spices and other ingredients.

Me: “This tea tastes really good!”

Those of us who don’t mind the sweetness enjoy it.

Then, the support worker tells a colleague about part of the cooking process.

Support Worker: “She just crushed the walnuts by crunching them in her mouth and then spitting them into the pan.”

She hadn’t realised that people would find this revolting!

We agreed that when she made it again, she needed to use appropriate equipment to do that task. Thankfully, the support worker saw the sense of this.

I was not too concerned about this, given how many motorway service stations I ate in during my childhood in the 1970s, where I probably ingested far worse!

Related:
If At First You Don’t Succeed, Chai Again, Part 7
If At First You Don’t Succeed, Chai Again, Part 6
If At First You Don’t Succeed, Chai Again, Part 5
If At First You Don’t Succeed, Chai Again, Part 4
If At First You Don’t Succeed, Chai Again, Part 3