(I’m on a four-day high school trip. After we stop for lunch on the way home, I go with a friend to a nearby gas station/corner store so she can buy some candy for the remaining fourteen hours of the bus ride. While she gets her candy, I start looking for a cheap souvenir, since everything in the hotel gift shop was either ridiculously expensive or simply impractical to travel with. I’m still looking when my friend pays for her candy, so she stands outside the store while I try to pick something out. Finally, I pick something and bring it to the counter. The cashier, a friendly young black man, has been cheery with my friend and absolutely nothing at all notable has happened so far. Neither I nor my friend look even remotely Latino or Hispanic, so I’m a little surprised when he starts speaking to me in Spanish, just as happily as before.)

Cashier: “¡Hola! ¿Como estás?”

(I’m surprised, but I smile and speak with next to no trace of my American accent.)

Me: “Cansado. ¿Y tu?”

(The cashier is clearly thrown off.)

Cashier: “Oh, s***.”

(His coworker, who heard everything in the back room, started laughing so hard that I thought he was going to fall off the small ladder I could see him standing on. I quickly told the cashier that I spoke English and was taking Spanish as a second language. He said that he sometimes did the Spanish to have some fun with customers, and he definitely didn’t expect me to try to start a conversation. The back room employee kept laughing about how “you showed him!” while the cashier rang up my souvenir. He was still laughing when I said, “¡Gracias, adios!” on my way out. I sometimes wonder if the back room guy ever let the cashier live down that little Spanish encounter or if it became some sort of cautionary tale about not trying to confuse customers.)

I am a manager at a gas station that offers a rewards program to customers. One customer has called my store to complain about another store.

Customer: I was just at (other store) and the cashier stole my rewards card. She seemed very unhappy with her job. That’s how I know she stole it. She’s going to use my points to get free stuff for herself.

Me: Sir, it’s much more likely your rewards card was left on the counter. It could have been turned back into the store or someone could have picked up it thinking it was theirs. Our customer service line handles all of our rewards card inquiries, so they will be able to get your points back. I can give you the number–

Customer: But then the assistant manager kicked me out. I’ve been going there forever. I’m a valued customer. I have 16,000 points and they’re just letting that unhappy cashier steal my stuff. I don’t feel valued anymore. What should I do?

Me: Again, sir, call our customer service line. They handle all of the complaints, grievances, and they’ll replace your rewards card.

This exact conversation repeats for about 20 minutes. I’m finally fed up with listening to him whine about his rewards card.

Me: I’m sorry sir, my store is getting busy and I have to help my cashiers. Like I said, I can give you the customer service number and they will be able to help you with everything. Since none of this occurred at my store, there’s nothing I can personally do about it.

Customer: Is the customer service line this 1-800 number on the back of the rewards card?

Me: Yessir! The number is–

Customer: That’s alright. I’ll just look at the number on my card. Bye.

(This story is about my sister not me, she used to work at a gas station in the small town that we live.)
One day while my sister was working a customer came into the gas station and she purchased a $25 pre-paid card for her Verizon phone. My sister put it into the computer and checked her items out and the customer left.
Well a few hours later the same customer came into the store to tell my sister that the pin on her card did not work. My sister then told the customer that she would have to contact Verizon because there wasn’t really anything she could do about it.
The customer then proceeded to accuse my sister of stealing her pin. (which she didn’t) She told the customer that she wouldn’t steal the pin and it would be futile if she did because she had AT&T phone not Verizon.
After this happened the same woman came into the store every day for over a month to harass my sister and call her a thief etc.
The woman even went to the extent of finding my sister on Facebook, as well as her friends. So that they would all message her and harass her for stealing something she did not.
Eventually they found out why the customer’s pin did not work. A local dollar general and the gas station were both on the same system, and what happened was a customer at the other store happened to buy a card at the same exact time, so her pin did not activate when it went through the system.
The manager of the gas station my sister worked at eventually gave the woman a refund so that she would leave her alone.

(I have just filled up with fuel and have popped in to pay for it. Whilst I am in there, I decide to buy a bag of chocolates for my step-daughter. The queue isn’t long and I am soon at the front, making small talk with the friendly cashier.)

Cashier: “Up to much this weekend?”

Me: “I’m working on Saturday, but I’m free on Sunday; I’ll probably go out on Sunday with my other half for a nice walk. What about you? Doing anything exciting?”

Cashier: “I’m working here all weekend.”

Me: “Sounds like fun.”

(By this point, I have finished my transaction and am just about to head off.)

Me: “May all your customers be sensible.”

Cashier: *pointing out of the window* “See that over there?”

Me: “What?”

Cashier: “You see that unicorn over there?”

Me: “Ah, yes, it’s being chased by a flying pig.”

(We laugh and I return to my car. Just as I am getting in, a voice comes over the tannoy:)

Cashier: “Pump number eleven, you left your goods.”

(I look over to the kiosk and see the cashier waving the bag of chocolates. As I head over to retrieve them, I see through the window that the cashier has handed them to a customer, who brings them out to me.)

Customer: “Yours, I believe?”

Me: “Thank you. And can you please thank him and apologise for me? Tell him that I was distracted by the flying unicorn!”

(As I pull up to the bowser at a petrol station, I notice a dark-haired woman in her 30s at the next bowser talking on her phone as she finishes filling up. When I finish and go to pay she is at the counter. There is another customer behind her, and then there is me.)

Attendant: *talking to [Customer #1]* “You are not allowed to use your phone when filling up or around the bowsers.”

Customer #1: “Oh, why not?”

Attendant: “It is dangerous, and if my boss sees you doing it, I can get in a lot of trouble, and so can you.”

Customer #1: “Why is it dangerous?”

(The attendant goes on to explain how a spark from the phone could cause an explosion, and there are signs at all the bowsers warning people not to use their phones. [Customer #1] suddenly sounds concerned and remorseful.)

Customer #1: “Oh, dear, I’m terribly sorry; I won’t do it again.”

(She then picks up her phone she had put on the counter — still connected to a call — puts it to her ear, and carries on with her conversation.)

Customer #1: “Did you hear that? Using a phone at the petrol station is dangerous!”

(She continued to talk on the phone as she got to her car and drove off. [Customer #2], the attendant, and I all looked at each other dumbfounded.)