(This is right after the 2016 elections:)

Customer: “I need to overnight this to [City in South Florida].”

Me: “All right, anything hazardous, liquid, toxic, or perishable?”

Customer: “It’s liquid.”

Me: “All right, what kind?”

Customer: “Why do you need to know?”

Me: “Because there are some liquids that can’t go overnight because they aren’t safe in the pressurized hold of an airplane.”

Customer: “This won’t go on an airplane. It’s only going four hours away.”

Me: “Actually, [City in south Florida] is outside the distribution area for [Local Terminal], so this item with be flown out tonight to [Central Hub] where it will be sorted with other packages meant for [Destination Terminal] and flown back in tonight.”

Customer: “That’s stupid! Trump is gonna fix that!”

Me: “Trump is going to change [Major Global Shipping Company]’s entire business model and stop them from using central distribution?”

Customer: “Yeah. It’s stupid.”

Me: *dead inside* “Okay. I still need to know what kind of liquid it is.”

(It was alcohol. We’re not licensed to ship alcohol. When he asked why, I wish I’d been smart enough to tell him that Trump hasn’t fixed us yet.)

(I’m a junior in college, and I work at the bookstore. It’s the first week of classes, known as “fall rush,” and we are swamped. To help streamline this, we offer online ordering, where a student inputs their classes and we collect the books for them to pick up in store. There are three or four of us doing that, while everyone else is on the sales floor. Our store manager has told those of us who are working on these to direct questions from customers to someone else on the sales floor, so that we can focus on the task at hand. I’m working on one of these when I hear a throat clear behind me. There’s an older man glaring at me.)

Me: “Hello! What can I help you with?”

Man: “I’m Dr. [Man], and I teach [course I’ve never heard of]. Now, the textbooks for my class are usually right here. But they’re not here. Why is that? Where are my books?”

Me: “I’m really not sure, sir. But I can go grab our textbook manager and she can help you–”

Man: “No, I don’t want to talk to someone else. I want you to find my books now.”

(I see our textbook manager across the store, so I wave her over.)

Me: “Sir, I’m not familiar with your course or textbooks, but–”

Man: “You should be familiar with my course! It’s very important!”

Me: “Sir, I do apologize, but I’m running online orders right now. But our textbook manager–”

Man: “NO! You will help me!”

Textbook Manager: “No, sir, I will help you. Now, you said the book was for [Class]?”

Man: *huffs* “Millennials.” *glares at me* “I hope you never take one of my classes.”

Me: “Don’t worry; I won’t.”

Man: “EXCUSE ME?!”

Textbook Manager: “That’s it. Your course textbooks are over there.” *points* “Now, stop hassling my employees and leave.”

(The old man walks out, muttering to himself.)

Textbook Manager: “Why don’t you finish that order and go to lunch?”

Me: “Thank you!”

(I graduated from college several years ago, but that bookstore job is still my favorite!)

This story is part of the Millennials Roundup!

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(I work in the office of a pest control company. A customer calls a tech, complaining about a cricket problem in her home.)

Tech: *arriving at customer’s home* “All right, ma’am, there isn’t really a cricket problem in Florida, so we don’t really have anything for them, but let me take a look around.”

Customer: “Please! They’ve been keeping me up at night!”

(The tech walks around the customer’s home and hears a distinct chirping sound. He looks up.)

Tech: “[Customer], you don’t have a cricket problem. Your smoke detector needs a new battery.”

Customer: “It is not my smoke detector! I know it’s crickets!”

(A neighbor just happens to drop by then, and the tech lets him in after making sure the customer is familiar with him.)

Tech: “Can I ask you a favor?”

Neighbor: “Sure!”

Tech: “Can you tell me what that noise is?”

(The neighbor looks around for a moment and then points at the smoke detector.)

Neighbor: “Looks like it’s the smoke detector.”

Customer: “It’s not the smoke detector!!”

Tech: *to neighbor* “I’m not really allowed to mess with that. Can you take it down?”

(The neighbor removes the dead battery.)

Customer: “Hey! The noise stopped!” *after a moment* “So, what are you going to do about the crickets?”

(To put this story in perspective, I am around eight years old, I am from England, and this is my first time visiting the USA, so I have no idea that tax is added on after the sale. I am waiting to catch my flight home to the UK and decide to use the last of my money to buy a magazine for the flight. I pick up a magazine that says it’s $3 on the shelf. I go to the counter with three dollar bills.)

Employee: *scans the magazine* “That will be $3.25.”

Me: “Oh, I only have $3 on me, but I’ve got change. Do I have what you need?” *holds out a handful of coins*

Employee: “Why do you only have $3 on you when you should know that tax is added on afterward?”

Me: “I don’t know what tax is, but it’s okay. I’ll put the magazine back.”

Employee: “Typical foreigner, always trying to weasel out of paying taxes.”

(I’m getting nervous because there’s a line and I only have the $3 on me. This is when someone steps in to save the day.)

Customer: “Leave the kid alone. He’s not from here and he won’t know about taxes at his age; I’ll pay the extra 25 cents so he can have it.” *reaches for his wallet*

Employee: “No! More Americans shouldn’t be paying for foreigners; if he wants it he has to pay for it or I’ll call security.”

Me: *nearly in tears at this point* “Please don’t call security. I’ll see if my Mum has the money. I’m really sorry.”

Customer #1: “No, you don’t need to.” *hands the employee a $5 and tells me to go back to my mum*

Employee: “No, this little punk should pay for himself.”

(The line was fairly long so the manager came over to see what was going on. After [Customer] explained he said I should just go back to my mum. The next thing I heard was the manager shouting at the employee for making a little kid cry when a customer had offered the money.)

(I’ve just had gallbladder surgery. They want to keep me overnight for observation. A nurse brings me a dinner tray. I am surprised to find a full meal plus a soda.)

Me: “Um, hey… They said I wasn’t supposed to have solid food yet.”

Nurse #1: “No, you can have this. It’s been approved. No worries.”

(I’m slightly confused, but I figure I must’ve misheard while I was still loopy from anesthesia. I get a couple sips of soda in and a bite of food before I feel the urge to empty my stomach. Thankfully, another nurse is walking by and runs in to get a bucket.)

Nurse #2: “Yep, that sometimes happens after gallbladder surgery. No worries, hon. Glad I was walking by, eh?”

(She glances over at the tray of food and raises an eyebrow.)

Nurse #2: “Where did that come from?”

Me: “Someone brought it in ten minutes ago. They said I could have it.”

Nurse #2: *calmly* “No. No. Absolutely not. You get clear liquids tonight. No carbonation, either. Let me get this out of here, and I’ll find you some Jello.”

(She picks up the tray and walks out the door. I hear the following as she disappears down the hallway.)

Nurse #2: “ALL RIGHT! WHO WAS THE DUMBA** THAT GAVE A GALLBLADDER PATIENT REAL FOOD? TELL ME NOW!”