I work for a computer chain that has just released a new range of desktop computers available in different colors.

A customer comes in who I can only describe as your typical Floridian redneck. He’s browsing the computers and then walks over to me.

Customer: “Can you make the computer like… covered in alligator skin?”

Me: “Uh… no.”

Customer: “You advertised the computer as coming in lots of colors!”

Me: “Yes, this selection of colors here. Alligator skin is not one of them.”

Customer: “Well, it should be! You need to know your audience and their style!”

Me: “I will let the managers know, sir.”

Customer: “You do that! Tell them to add leopard skin while you’re at it, so my girl can get one, too!”

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An elderly man is shopping at my store with a large service dog. My department is right next to the store entrance, and while the man is here, a woman and her three-year-old son walk in through the front door. When the little boy spots the dog, his eyes light up, and he grabs his mom’s hand and points.

Little Boy: “Mommy, look! A woof-woof!”

Mom: “Yes, sweetie, it’s a woof-woof.”

Little Boy: “I wanna see the woof-woof!”

He runs over to the man with the dog. The man looks down at him with an amused smile.

Little Boy: “What’s his name?”

Old Guy: “His name’s [Dog].”

Little Boy: “Can I pet him?”

The woman catches up to her son.

Mom: “[Little Boy], I told you not to go running off like that. And don’t bother this nice man.”

Old Guy: “Oh, he’s no bother.”

Little Boy: “I wanna pet the woof-woof!”

Mom: *Pointing to the dog’s service vest* “You see what this woof-woof is wearing? That means he’s doing his job right now. His job is to help the nice man. And since the woof-woof is doing his job, that means this isn’t a good time to pet him.”

Everyone can see the gears turning in the boy’s brain.

Little Boy: “Oh, okay. Do a good job, Mister Woof-Woof!”

I work at a very well-known retail chain in the USA. We also sell beer, wine, and tobacco products. The company policy is that we must see an ID/driver’s license every single time someone wants to purchase these products. There is no exception to this policy. We will get fired if we do not check ID.

I have a regular customer come to my register with a bag of chips and a bottle of wine, and she also asks for a pack of cigarettes. It’s the beginning of summer in Florida, it is already upwards of eighty degrees (almost 27C) outside, and she doesn’t look like she walked to the store in this heat.

Me: “Can I see your ID?”

She proceeds to show me her medical marijuana card.

Me: “I need to see the other one, ma’am.”

She then pulls out her concealed carry permit.

Me: “No, I mean that I need to see your state-issued ID or driver’s license.”

Customer: “I don’t have it.”

Me: “Those are not accepted forms of ID to purchase alcohol and tobacco. I have to have an ID or driver’s license issued by the state.”

Customer: “I just don’t understand. I come in here all the time.”

Me: “And every time, you are told that we need your ID.”

Customer: “Well, I just won’t be coming back here anymore.”

As she is walking out the door, I add:

Me: “And you are supposed to have your driver’s license considering you are, you know, driving.”

I work in a large superstore. Today, I am setting up a free sample tray, and I am about to pour some mini cups of a new fruit juice. I open the bottle, put the lid on the tray, turn around to gather some cups, and turn back to the tray.

In the space of about a second, a customer has appeared, and the lid has disappeared.

Me: “Oh! Hello, sir. Would you like to try—”

I then realize that the customer is chewing violently, looking a bit frazzled in the process.

Me: “Sir, are you—”

Then, I realize what’s happening. No… it can’t be.

Customer: *Between chews* “What the f*** did you put in this candy?!”

Me: “Sir, are you chewing on a lid to a plastic bottle?”

Customer: “This thing tastes like nothing! And it’s too tough!”

Me: “Sir, that’s a plastic lid! Please spit it out!”

Customer: *Ignoring me, somehow still chewing* “I don’t think you’ll sell many of these.”

The customer then spots the bottle of fruit juice that I was supposed to be offering samples of. He just grabs the bottle, takes a big swig, and washes the plastic lid down.

Customer: “That was awful! But that fruit juice is nice. You should be offering that instead.”

And with that, the customer wandered off and I was left looking around for any witnesses because — seriously — did that just happen?

I am on a work trip with my supervisor and manager to a location a few hours away from home. As such, we eat out almost every night before returning to the hotel.

To set the scene, I am a white woman in my twenties, [Supervisor] is a Black woman in her mid- to late fifties, and [Manager] is a white man in his mid- to late sixties.

We go to a hibachi grill for dinner. [Manager] and I sit down while [Supervisor] goes to the ladies’ room. 

The seating for the table is two people on each side of the grill and four people on the front side, so we can all see the chef. I sit in the corner with my manager on the right — so we are on the two side seats — and [Supervisor] will be on my other side, taking one of the four open seats.

A server comes by and asks [Manager] what he would like to drink.

Manager: *Looking at me* “You should order first.”

The server looks at both of us and gives an almost “ewww” face. I notice, but [Manager] does not. Drinks are ordered, and the server walks away. 

[Supervisor] comes back and sits down to my left. They start talking to each other over me, so I sit back and watch the tennis match of a conversation happen. The server comes back and is about to put down our drinks when I say:

Me: “Mom… Dad… Can we talk about anything else but work?”

The server’s eyes widened; whatever she thought was going on — dating someone three times my age? — it never occurred to her that he might not be my date. 

[Supervisor] and [Manager] never noticed the server but agreed that work was done and we should relax.

For the rest of the trip, I called them Mom and Dad as I told them about the server, and they thought it was funny.