(The theater company I work for does a charity promotion every summer where we ask customers to donate a dollar or their spare change. Every year, this exact occurrence never fails to happen multiple times on the first day of the promotion:)

Me: “Hello, welcome to [Theater]!”

Customer: “Yes, can I get three tickets for [Movie]?”

Me: “Sure! Would you like to donate $1, or even your spare change, to [Charity]?”

Customer: “What? No, I did that yesterday!”

Me: *facepalm*

This story is part of our Customers Who Dislike Charity roundup!

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Read the Customers Who Dislike Charity roundup!

(I am a new worker at a big convenience store. It’s near Christmas, a few weeks after Halloween. A mother and her daughter, looking about 10 or 11, walk in and pause near my aisle.)

Daughter: “Hey, Mom, I have a cramp! Did you know that your whole BODY does a cramp if you’re tazed?”

Woman: “Do you wanna know how to avoid that?”

Daughter: “Don’t go to Black Friday?”

Woman: “No, silly, I meant the cramps.”

Daughter: “Oh.”

(That made my day, and I am now afraid to work on Black Friday!)

This story is part of our Black Friday roundup!

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(I’m the customer in this story. I am with my girlfriend and her sister checking out one of the many Halloween stores that just opened up. I have purple and blue hair, a snapback on, and facial piercings, and my arm is around my girlfriend’s shoulders. An older woman approaches me.)

Woman: *says something I don’t catch*

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Woman: “Women’s restroom?”

Me: “Uh, I don’t know. I don’t work here.”

Woman: *walks off*

(I didn’t realize until she left that she must have thought that the fact that I was wearing a lanyard meant I was working. It was a Batman lanyard with my girlfriend’s car keys on it.)

This story is part of our Halloween roundup!

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Read the Halloween roundup!

(My parents are in America for their honeymoon, and decide to go to the adult-only part of a well-known theme park.)

Attendant: “I just need to see some ID.”

(My mother proceeds to pull out her passport and show the attendant her date of birth.)

Attendant: “I’m sorry ma’am you aren’t old enough for this attraction. You have to be 21.”

Mother: “But I am 21.”

Attendant: “No, you’re not. According to your passport you won’t be old enough for another few months.”

Mother: “Oh, no, sorry. We’re from England, so the date is reversed. I am old enough.”

Attendant: “I’m not stupid; you don’t really date that way over there.”

Mother: “Yes, we do.”

Attendant: “You’re not fooling anyone. You just want to get in here under age.”

(At this point my father steps in and shows the attendant his passport.)

Father: “In that case would you mind telling me which is the 30th month?”

(The attendant went bright red, and quietly let them in.)

(Two customers approach the counter, the first being a tall, bald man and the second being an elderly lady.)

Customer: “Hi. I’m every customer ever, and I have a bunch of stupid questions and unreasonable demands.”

Me: “Hi. I’m every employee ever, and I present a negative attitude as well as an unforgivable ignorance of both the products my employer sells and how to conduct myself civilly with other human beings.”

Customer: “Like an idiot, I have approached you with no idea what I want. But I nevertheless expect you to keep your full attention on me while I waste your time.”

Me: “That’s fine. I’ve already tuned you out and began to sing the theme song to Duck Tales to myself in my head as you bring us collectively closer to death without having accomplished anything meaningful.”

Customer: “Regarding [Liquor], I will now proceed to barrage you with questions about it that either you have no way of knowing, or which I should already d*** well know the answers to.”

(I hand him a bottle of the liquor he mentioned and start to ring it up.)

Me: “I respond to your worthless questions with vague and unsatisfying responses, as my cranial faculties are occupied with lewd and lascivious irrelevancies. That will be [price], you personification of the downfall of western civilization.”

Customer: “I object to the price quoted, even though it is clearly indicated on the shelf behind you, and suggest some sort of extortion on your part, undoubtedly fueled by prejudice towards some aspect of my appearance, race, culture, or creed.”

Me: “Although mentally I am most certainly questioning your intelligence, parentage and/or upbringing, I merely offer transparently insincere apologies.”

Customer: “I proclaim in brash and vulgar terms my dissatisfaction. I make a laughable and grandiose claim of my own importance, such as being a millionaire, the brother of your company’s CEO, or perhaps the good old-fashioned ‘Do you have any idea who I am?’ I further suggest that I could have you fired effortlessly and fully intend to do so for the insufficient quantity of butt-kissing you have exhibited toward me over the course of this transaction.”

Me: “I sadly inform you that my superior is not present on the premises and unhelpfully refer you to the company help line. Quietly I memorize the details of your face so that I can fantasize about committing acts of unspeakable and grotesque violence toward same at some later date.”

(The customer begins walking out the door.)

Customer: “Vague and impotent threat to your person and questioning of your sexual orientation!”

Me: “Sarcastic suggestion to have a nice day!”

(He walks out the door. The old lady behind him looks thoroughly perplexed by our exchange.)

Old Lady: “Who was that?”

Me: *shrugging* “My manager.”

This story is part of our celebration of Not Always Right publishing over 100,000 stories!

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