(A man walks up to the service desk holding a wicker chair which has a portion of the wicker coming undone.)

Customer: “I would like to return this chair.”

Me: “Do you have a receipt, sir?”

Customer: “No. I bought this last fall, and I haven’t even had this chair for six months and it’s falling apart. I want to exchange it for a new one, but you guys just got more in.”

Me: “Sorry, but anything from last year I’d have to call and get approval for.”

Customer: “Well, you might as well just take it back.”

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand…”

Customer: “I’m just going to go buy a new one and then return this one. So, you might as well just take it back.”

(After staring at this man for a few moments, I make a call to the manager of the area, who then approves the exchange, and we send the man to go get another chair to replace it. Shortly after the man leaves, my coworker turns to talk to me.)

Coworker: “Well, that man had balls the size of basketballs.”

(I have just started working in the bakery of a grocery store and don’t know how to do much of anything.)

Customer: “I need you to write on a cake for me.”

Me: “I’m sorry, the cake decorator just went home and I still haven’t learned how to write on cakes yet.”

Customer: “Well, can you just write, ‘Mom,’ on it?”

Me: “No? I can’t write on cakes, miss; I haven’t learned how yet.”

Customer: “Well, h***, it can’t be that hard. Give me a bag of icing.”

(We technically aren’t allowed to let customers write on their own cakes, but I want her to go away, so I let her have one.)

Customer: “Well. What? WHY DOES THIS LOOK HORRIBLE? I need a new cake.”

(At this point, the phone rang so I excused myself and left my coworker to the customer’s stupidity.)

(I work at the checkout. You have to show proof of identity when paying by cheque.)

Me: “I need to see your proof of identity.”

Customer: *taking out her ID card* “Okay, but don’t look at the picture; I look bad on it!”

Me: “Oh, don’t worry; I don’t look good on mine, either!”

Customer: “Yes, but it’s not like you’re beautiful in person.”

(I’m ringing up a customer who has been staring down her nose at me for pretty much the whole transaction. She has a trolleyful, and since it is an express store we only have tiny checkouts. She doesn’t even offer to help pack anything, and I have to ask her nicely to get her to move full bags off of the till so I have room to keep packing. She glares at me several times. Finally, I tell her the total.)

Customer: “Oh, and check this for me.” *throws a lottery ticket down*

Me: “No problem. I’ll do the payout once I’m finished with your shopping.”

(The woman looks at me like I’m stupid.)

Customer: “Can you do it now? I need the money to pay for the shopping. There should be ten pounds on it.”

Me: “I’m sorry. The tills won’t allow a payout until the transaction has finished.”

Customer: “That’s ridiculous! Other shops do!”

Me: “I’m sorry. It’s the way the tills work.”

(The woman carried on giving me a look as if I was completely thick as she gave me the money, and as I gave her the payout from the tickets. She then took her own sweet time getting her things together, even having a conversation with a friend, while a queue of customers built up behind. When I said goodbye, she merely threw me another dirty look. I love customers who know how our tills work better than we do.)

(I stock shelves for a grocery store. I have Asperger’s syndrome, a high-functioning type of autistic spectrum disorder. My manager is fairly new, but he has taken a disliking to me and often treats me poorly compared to my coworkers. This happens one day while I’m stocking pasta sauce.)

Customer: “Excuse me. Do you have any more of this sauce in the back room?”

(She’s holding a jar of an uncommon variety of sauce that we have recently discontinued. I know for a fact that we do not have any more in the back room because we just received our sauce shipment the other day, and none of it was of this variety.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but that sauce is actually discontinued and is on clearance.”

Customer: “That’s bulls***! I know you have more back there! Go and get me some, now!”

Me: “I cannot do that, ma’am, as we don’t have any more.”

Customer: “LIAR!”

(Without any warning, she SLAMS the jar of sauce onto the ground at her feet, causing it to shatter. As if on cue, the manager comes over.)

Manager: “Is something wrong?”

Customer: “Fire this brat! Now! He threw this jar at me!”

Manager: “Is this true?”

Me: “No, sir! She threw that jar herself!”

Customer: “You liar! I saw you throw that at me!”

Me: “That’s not true! I—“

Manager: “Enough. I’m sorry, [My Name], but I simply will not tolerate this behavior, so I have to let you go. Go pack up your things and leave the store. I am very disgusted with your behavior.”

(I sheepishly punched out and left, but I wasn’t about to let myself be fired on such bogus grounds. As soon as I got home, I got on the phone with HR and explained the entire situation to them. Three days later, I got a call from the district manager offering me my job back. As it turns out, the whole incident was the latest conspiracy by my now ex-manager to get me fired because he didn’t want to work with someone on the autistic spectrum. The customer turned out to be his wife, and the whole scheme was planned out well in advance. One thing that he, quite foolishly, forgot to take into account was the security footage, which clearly showed his wife throwing down the jar of pasta sauce, contrary to what they claimed to have happened. He was fired almost immediately, and both he and his wife are now banned from setting foot in any of the company’s stores. I’m still working there to this day, and just recently got a promotion to assistant department manager.)