(The art project for year-eight students at my school is to create a collage out of sweet wrappers. This exchange takes place between my colleague and a particularly troublesome student.)

Teacher: “Have you got your homework for me yet?”

Student: “Yes, sir, but it’s different to what you asked us to do.”

Teacher: “Why? You’ve had long enough to do it, and it’s late. What have you got for me?”

Student: “My mum said I’m not allowed to use sweet wrappers because sweets are bad for you.”

Teacher: “So what did you use instead?”

Student: “Cigarette cartons.”

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(I am working the tills when the rubbish men come to take the waste from the shop. I can’t leave the storefront, so I call my assistant manager but she doesn’t answer. I finally find her, walking out of the toilets after twenty minutes.)

Assistant Manager: “You can’t leave the shop floor.”

Me: “You weren’t answering the phone. The waste guy is getting angry.”

Assistant Manager: “You can’t leave the shop floor.”

Me: “But I had to tell you.”

Assistant Manager: “Don’t leave the shop floor. Call the phone next time.”

(Thankfully this all gets resolved. Later that day, however, one of the tills stops working in the middle of a customer’s transaction. There’s a very long queue of other customers behind her.)

Me: “I’m very sorry. The till has frozen. Is it okay if I call my manager and take the rest of the customers on the other till?”

Customer #1: “How long will it be?”

Me: “I’m sure it won’t be long…”

(Unfortunately, it ends up taking quite long. I call the assistant manager five times while juggling a line of ten customers, and have to move all of them to a second till while the first customer continues to wait impatiently. When I check on the office camera, I see my assistant manager in her office on her mobile phone eating cake. I am nearly in tears by the time she finally comes out to fix the till. She does so, but leaves immediately without helping me with the remaining customers. At this point, another customer, Customer #2, approaches.)

Me: *to Customer #2* “Is that all for today?”

Customer #2: “Are you okay, poppet?”

Me: “Yeah. It’s just stressful, you know?”

(At this point, I see the assistant manager cross the shop floor and walk outside for a smoke with her boyfriend.)

Customer #2: “Did she just leave you here alone?”

Me: “I’ll be fine. Sorry, did you want anything else?”

Customer #2: “Yes.”

(Customer #2 pushes a chocolate bar across the table. I scan it and he pays. Before he leaves, he puts the chocolate bar in my hands.)

Customer #2: “Have a great day, darling.”

(I can honestly say that that was one of the most stressful days of my life, but it was made slightly easier by good customers.)

(I work as a senior programmer in a average-sized development company with many sections. I’ve been sent over to help another team.)

Me: “So, what is the problem?”

Worker: “There is no problem.”

Me: “So, it’s working?”

Worker: “No, it’s not working. It keeps coming up with an error message.”

Me: “So, what is the error message?”

Worker: “I dunno. I’ve not bothered to read it. I just dismissed it. It must be the software.”

Me: “Let me have a look at it…”

(The worker shows me the code; they’ve made a few simple errors which I then fix. However, the worker disagrees.)

Worker: “You just broke it!”

Me: “Okay, whatever. I’m heading back to my own work.”

(I go on a break. When I come back, my boss has given the worker access to my files.)

Me: “What are you doing?”

Worker: “Deleting your programs because you broke mine!”

Me: “You just deleted every program we have stored!”

(The worker actually attempted to delete every program we had on file and was trying to blame it on me because he was convinced I had broken his program. Luckily, we had them all backed up and he lost his job.)

(We have a school prom in our function room. Whenever we have a prom, we run a ‘dry’ bar. We will not serve the students at the main bar. One of the teachers approaches the bar and slams a bottle down on the counter.)

Teacher: “I just took this from one of my students. He is sixteen!”

Me: “Ma’am, it’s—”

Teacher: “This is a disgrace; you’ve broken the law. Who served him? Was it you?”

Me: “It’s a—”

Teacher: “I want to speak to your manager.”

Me: “I understand why you’re upset, but—”

Teacher: “We won’t have another prom here! Selling alcohol to kids—”

Me: “It’s a non-alcoholic beer. There is no alcohol behind the bar tonight and no one here would serve anyone underage anyway.”

Teacher: “Oh, God. I’m so sorry. I’d better give this back to him.”

(I’m working clearing, which is when we take in calls about students who are in their last ditch effort to get into the university.)

Me: “Okay, that’s fine. I’m going to process your application now. Can I please take your first name?”

Student: “Yes. It’s…” *unintelligible speech*

Me: “Can you please spell that for me?”

Student: “Ugh, if I have to. It’s K…” *unintelligible*

Me: “Okay, can you repeat that for me? It starts with K?”

Student: “Yeah, you know. K as in Chicken.”