(I work in a pizza restaurant. Our busiest nights are Friday and Saturday, often with phones ringing off the hooks and the lobby being packed with customers and the occasional local school team, making the place incredibly noisy. During these busy nights, we usually have three or four cashiers manning the two phone lines, taking orders for pickup or delivery. With the old system, a pickup order only needed a name, while a delivery asked for a phone number before we confirmed the address. I’m standing at the front register taking care of the long line of customers when an older, sour-faced fellow comes up to the till.)

Me: *with a tired smile, but still loud enough to be heard over the crowd* “Hello, sir. What can I do for you this evening?”

Customer: *grunting, mumbling* “Picking up.”

Me: “Okay, what was the name?”

Customer: *gives a generic first name, such as Mike or George*

(I cringe, as I already know I’m going to have to search. This evening, we have about four orders with the same name — among others — and none of the other cashiers have included a last name or identifier.)

Me: “All righty. And what was the order for?”

Customer: *looking disgusted with me* “It was for a large cheese — extra crispy — cheese sticks, and [salad].”

(I view each order under the name, and none of them match the order he has given me.)

Me: “Okay, sir, I’m having a little bit of trouble here finding it. Could it be under another name? Perhaps a last name, or something?”

Customer: “No! It’s [Generic Name]!”

Me: “All righty. Give me just a moment.”

(Because of the noise, it’s very possible that the name could’ve been misheard. So, one by one, I open up each of the nearly 35 other pickup orders in the computer, looking for a matching order. After about 30 seconds, the man gets snappy.)

Customer: “What’s taking so long?!”

Me: “Well, sir, I’m checking all of the other orders to see if the name was accidentally misheard. We do have another location in [Neighboring City]; is it possible that the order might have accidentally been placed there?”

Customer: “No! We only order from this location!” *starts grumbling about being incompetent*

(The entire time I’ve been speaking, I’ve been continuing to search the orders. Eventually, I come upon a matching order, placed about an hour ago.)

Me: *smiling brightly* “All right, sir, I believe I’ve found it! It was [order], correct?”

Customer: “Yes, that’s it.” *frowning at me* “What was it under?”

(I’m a little surprised, as most customers are just happy that the order was found, and are too hungry to care what it was under. Seeing the name that it’s under, and judging by this man’s attitude, I’m a little hesitant to tell him.)

Me: “Uh, it was under… Nancy.”

(The man gave me a glare like I’d just kicked his dog, and his neck started to turn pink. He shook his head, paid, and stood to the side while I grabbed his food. The manager saw what had happened and went over to make sure everything is okay. The man complained that picking up an order shouldn’t be this difficult, but didn’t ask for compensation. My boss listened to him, assured him that we would try to do better next time, and thanked him for his business. After the man left, my boss commented to me that it sounded like maybe his wife had placed the order in her name but hadn’t told him. I never saw the man again.)

(I work in a low-level position at a TV station in my town. I rarely answer the phone but I do so today.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Station]. How may I help you?”

Customer: “You ran a story with my husband in it and it had some flaws.”

Me: “All right. If you will tell me what information was wrong, I will let someone know.”

Customer: “My husband’s name was spelled wrong and so was his picture.”

(I find what she is referring to, realizing it is a story about her husband going to jail.)

Me: “Miss, are you referring to the man who vandalized the park?”

(The customer huffs.)

Customer: “Of course not. My husband wouldn’t do that, but you said he did.”

(I believe I realize the issue.)

Me: “I don’t think this story was about your husband, just a man with the same name.”

Customer: “Oh.”

(She waits a few seconds.)

Customer: “When are you gonna run his robbery story?”

(Two customers are looking at me and nudging each other. They are a man and a woman. Eventually, they bring their purchases to my counter and I ring them up. I have a bit of an odd name for a girl.)

Man: “Is that your real name?” *indicates my name tag*

Me: “Yep!”

(The man pulls a face and hands the woman a $5 bill. They leave.)

Coworker: “What just happened?”

(Lately, we’ve had an ongoing promo toy giveaway related to a recent major movie release. The toys are called “Marvel Micropopz,” and on the self-checkouts, a screen will appear before the payment options offering one if the purchase qualifies. The message is poorly-worded, and the whole promotion has generally been poorly explained and poorly advertised, so I’ve gotten used to explaining the same things to customers over and over. But when one older gentleman comes up to me after a purchase, his confusion about it really takes the cake.)

Customer: “Hey, there was this message about redeeming points on my register.”

Me: *ready to go into my usual explanations* “Oh, that’s a—”

Customer: “But it wasn’t my name on the screen. It said it was for Marv Mikropovitz or something.”

(It’s a blisteringly hot day, so I decide to go for an iced coffee. As I walk up, there are two customers in front of me.)

Barista: “Can I get a name for that?”

Customer #1: *mumbles*

Barista: “Danny?”

Customer #1: “Andy.”

Barista: “Sorry, I’ve been giving everyone new names today. Now someone’s got to be Danny!”

Customer #1: *chuckles, pays, leaves*

Customer #2: *steps up to order*

Barista: “Would you like to be Danny?”

Customer #2: *laughs and gives their order and name*

Barista: “Someone called Danny’s going to come along later, and I’ll be like, ‘Yes! Danny! I’ve been waiting for you all day!’ and they’ll be so confused.”

(By now, we’ve all forgotten about the heat and the crowded shopping centre, thanks to our wonderfully cheerful, playful barista!)

Me: *steps up to order*

Barista: “Hello, Danny! What can I get you?”

(I had to take a moment to stop laughing before ordering. Thank you, amazing barista, for giving us all something to smile about on a long, hot day!)