(I work in a fairly large, upscale supermarket and am currently stocking potato chips at the far end of the store, where they’re located right next to the (refrigerated) dairy section. Anything related to homogenised milk, however, is relatively close to the entrance at the opposite side. Note that a. the store is located in a small and rather posh, southwest German city, infamous for being a bit full of itself, and b. the obviously well-off customer is fitting the stereotype of a 60-something 1%er, fur coat and all. She’s not getting abusive, but increasingly snotty and impolite.)

Customer: *from behind me, without saying “excuse me” or anything* “I’m looking for ‘coffee milk.’ Where can I find it?”

Me: “Do you perchance mean condensed milk or coffee cream?”

Customer: “No! I said ‘coffee milk.’ Didn’t you listen?”

Me: “Well, however you wanna call it, the condensed milk and coffee cream is located at the front together with the homogenised milk. None of them are called ‘coffee milk,’ though, since…”

Customer: *interrupts* “I asked for ‘coffee milk,’ not coffee cream! And why is it up front? A colleague of yours just send me here! Are you saying I have to walk back to the front?!”

Me: “I’m sorry for my colleague’s misunderstanding. I can come with you and personally show you where it is. But as I was trying to say, depending on fat content, it’s either called condensed milk or coffee cream, just so you know. I’m pretty sure those terms are even regulated by the EU.”

(I don’t suffer fools lightly. They go ignorant, I go stubborn.)

Customer: *getting irate* “I don’t care what those lazy bureaucrats call it. I’ve always called it coffee milk and never had a ‘misunderstanding’ because of it. You know what, forget it. I’m sick of this incompetence! This place is going to the dogs! I’ll never shop here again and I will tell all my friends to do the same. Do you have any idea how many customers you are going to lose, young man?!”

(I hate it when someone calls me that. She hands me her shopping basket, containing veggies and deli meat, meaning she must’ve passed the milk aisle, and turns to leave.)

Me: “Going by your lack of common decency, won’t be that many.”

Customer: *gasps, huffs, and f***s off*

(I never got written up. The customer made good on her “promise” and never came back, but our numbers are still good.)

(I’m at a contact fair organized by a group at my university. My friend and I pass the booth run by the organizers, and decide to fill out their quick survey about how we found out about the event, if we liked it, etc. The second question already has me dumbfounded.)

Me: “Age… age… How old am I?

Booth Attendant: *laughing* “It’s weird how that’s a question so many students stumble over; you’d think that people in their twenties would know how old they are. What year were you born?”

Me: “To be fair, I don’t think I’ve been asked how old I am all year, only ever for my birth date or birth year. Hold on…” *musing out loud* “I was born in 1995, so in 2015, I was 20, and I already had a birthday this year, so that makes me 22 now.”

(I put my age into the field and complete the survey, the booth attendant chatting with me and my friend the whole time, laughing when we stumble over equally basic questions. Finally, we both hand her our surveys and she pulls out the bowl with rewards: various sweets.)

Booth Attendant: “You know what? This seemed really hard for two civil engineering students like you two, and I don’t think we’re getting that many others, so dig in!”

(We did so and said goodbye, hoping that at least we made the work in the stuffy tent a little bit more fun for her!)

(It’s between Christmas and New Year’s Eve and, as this restaurant is near/on-campus, it’s almost empty. I receive my food and head to a small, secluded area around a corner when I see a employee with cleaning supplies sitting there playing with her phone.)

Me: “Did you already clean here? I could go sit somewhere else.”

(Rather than answering, the employee just gives me a dirty look. I like that spot and it doesn’t appear recently cleaned. So, I sit down nevertheless, take off my winter clothes and start eating when I notice her clearing her throat.)

Employee: “You need to eat somewhere else. I’m cleaning here right now.”

Me: “I’m sorry? I’m certainly not going to stack my food back on the tray and balance it to another table with my winter clothes in my arms while my burger falls apart. That’s why I asked you before sitting down.”

Employee: *calling around the corner* “[Manager]?”

Manager: *comes around the corner shortly afterwards* “Yes?”

Employee: “This customer ignored me when I told him that I’m currently cleaning here! Can you throw him out?”

(I’m just about to respond when the manager interrupts me.)

Manager: *to employee* “Firstly, we don’t throw customers out just because they are sitting somewhere we want to clean and we most certainly don’t call a manager to discuss such an option in front of the customer. But as we’re already here: Cut the crap. Everyone here knows you’re sitting around the corner your whole shift, playing with your phone and pretending you’re cleaning. Honestly, we only let you get away with it because the only thing worse for business than you doing nothing all day is — evidently — you dealing with customers. We were just waiting for you to do something stupid which, I’m happy to say, you just did. You can go home now. We’ll call you tomorrow about your termination.”

(My coworker and I are both managers in a grocery store. My coworker is working the till while I am doing other tasks. As more customers show up, I also start cashiering to reduce the line. I start ringing out a regular.)

Me: “Your total is 8,46€”

Regular: *handing me a 10€ bill*

Me: “Thank you. Here’s your 1,54€ back. Have a nice day.” *puts money in drawer and closes it*

Regular: “And my 40€?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Regular: “Where are the other 40€? I gave you a 50€ bill.”

Me: “Eh… No, you paid with a 10€ bill.”

Regular: *looking inside his wallet* “No, that can’t be. I gave you a 50€ bill.”

Me: “Then, I have to count my drawer, but first I have to ring out the others in line.”

Regular: “Okay.”

(I quickly ring out the three other customers in line. I then take out my drawer and give it to my coworker to count; I don’t want to be accused of pocketing the money while counting in the back office. While my coworker is checking my drawer, I jump onto his till while the regular waits, staring at me. After about five minutes my coworker returns.)

Coworker: “The change in the drawer is only three cents off.” *gives me the record while switching places with me*

Regular: “That can’t be.”

Me: *showing the regular the record* “You can see that I only have three cents more than I should have in my till. You paid with a 10€ bill.”

Regular: *getting angry* “No, I was at the doctor this morning. He didn’t have change for a 50€ bill so I paid with my last 10€ bill.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but you paid with 10€. My drawer’s correct, so there’s nothing I can do.”

Regular: “Then, I will talk to [Chain]’s head office and sue you.”

Me: “You do that. My name is [My Name]. I have to do other things now.” *leaves*

(Later that day I talk to my coworker about it.)

Coworker: “How thick can someone be?! Like we both would change the result just to get 40€.”

Me: “Yeah… and want to know what’s the best part? When he looked inside his wallet I saw another 10€ bill.”

(It’s the first winter during the refugee crisis in Europe. A lot of asylum seekers haven’t been able to register and be assigned to a home due to the sudden influx of people, so they are camping in front of the respective government agencies in the cold. The owner of the secondhand shop where I work decides to help, and starts a campaign where you can donate winter clothing for refugees at our store and get 10% off on your purchase in return. Sadly, that does not only bring kind-hearted people to our store but a lot of people wanting to complain.)

Customer: “Hi there. I want to speak to your boss about the program you’re doing. Honestly, it’s a disgrace you’d run a charity for refugees here while there are so many German families that are poor and can’t buy clothes.”

Me: “Sadly, my boss isn’t in today. However, if you’re coming in because you’re concerned about poor families, I have good news for you. See, that promotion is actually modelled after a promotion we’ve been continuously running since 2008, where you donate children’s clothing and get off 10% of your purchase. Do you have some children’s clothes you’d be willing to donate?”

Customer: “Absolutely not! They can shove that free clothes up their a**es. They need to stop being lazy, spongeing off of others, and feeling entitled to get free stuff just because they are too lazy to make a living.”

Me: “May I remind you that your initial complaint was that we provide charity to refugees while there are poor German families?”

Customer: *dumbstruck for a second* “Umm… I mean… JUST F*** YOU GUYS!” *walks away*

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