(As I’m getting to the end of my evening shift, I check out this lady on her phone. It goes fairly well — she’s communicating with me and such — and then a jerk customer comes in and talks about how good she smells.)

Creepy Customer: “Hey, ma’am, you smell so amazing! I could smell you all over the store, and here you are!”

Lady: *talking to the person on the phone* “This guy here is smelling me.”

(I can’t hear the person on the other end, but I’m sure they ask where she is. I’m assuming it’s her husband.)

Lady: “I’m checking out at the store.”

Creepy Customer: “Hey, lady, some people would take that as a compliment!” *puts his arms around her*

Lady: *pushes him away, and has this look on her face while she pays and leaves*

Me: *starts checking out said creep, not saying one word as I am watching what he does*

Creepy Customer: *starts shouting his number*

Me: *holding a heavy case of beer* “Please, one sec.”

Creepy Customer: *still saying the number over and over*

Me: *starts bagging*

Creepy Customer: *grabs my arm* “Hey, I like your watch! Give me your watch. Haha.”

Me: *jerks back fast, giving him a look*

Creepy Customer: *gets annoyed and has his friend pay*

Me: *asks another cashier to get a manager and fast*

(I had to stay late so I could inform the manager and report the creepy jerk. The manager took a look at the cameras to know what the creep looked like so he could tell the other managers. No, I don’t think the creepy jerk was drunk. The only thing I could smell was my lotion, and that’s probably what he could smell.)

(I work at an office supply store that wears red shirts. After work, I go to a grocery store where employees wear black shirts. As I’m heading toward the deli section…)

Deli Worker: *pointing directly at me* “He’ll show you where they are.”

Customer: “Sir, where are your onions?”

Me: “Uh, I’m really sorry, but I don’t actually work here. I have no idea why that employee pointed to me.”

(The customer walks away.)

Grocery Store Manager: *walking up to me* “Uh, excuse me? That is not acceptable behavior! Come with me right this instant!“

(I try to tell her that I don’t work here, but she won’t let me finish. She keeps demanding that I shut up and follow her into the office. At this point, I’m feeling mischievous, and I slowly start to grin. I decide to play along, just to see how long it takes, and follow her.)

Grocery Store Manager: *pointing to a chair* “Sit down!”

(I’ve now got a GIANT smile on my face, and I sit down. She begins to berate me and tell me she’s had issues with me ever since hiring me, and that she’s received many complaints.)

Grocery Store Manager: “So, in your words, what should I tell the district manager about how you will change your attitude?”

Me: “I’m not going to change anything about my attitude.”

Grocery Store Manager: “Well, then, I have no choice but to write you up for insubordination!”

Me: “Okay.”

(I’m still smiling the biggest smile I can. She still hasn’t picked up on the fact that I’m not one of her employees, even though I’m not in a uniform that her store uses, and my actual store name is clearly visible.)

Grocery Store Manager: “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Me: “Actually, I do. I have a question.”

Grocery Store Manager: “Go ahead.”

Me: “Do you recognize me… at all?“

Grocery Store Manager: “You’re the new guy.”

Me: “Are you sure?”

Grocery Store Manager: “Why?!”

Me: “Because I work at [Office Store], you idiot. Read my shirt!”

(She finally did. I watched her arrogant expression transform to disbelief, then to a kind of horror as she realized that she’d just dragged a customer into the back and spent a good chunk of time yelling at them. I laughed and told her to get her glasses checked, got up, and left the store. I still shop at that store, but I have never seen her there ever again.)

(For context, I’m a young person and have fairly severe joint issues. This is overheard between two strangers while I am shopping in one of those buggy-type carts.)

Lady #1: “Ugh! I just hate when people pretend to be handicapped!”

Lady #2: “I don’t think she pretending; she’s skinny!”

(Uh, glad to know being a skeletal noodle validates my health issues?)

(I’m working in a grocery store, straightening up the cans of tomatoes on the shelf.)

Customer: “Canned tomatoes?”

(That’s what she opened with. No “hello,” no “excuse me,” not alerting me to her presence in any way, shape, or form. I’m about to transfer to a different department and I don’t really care anymore.)

Me: “We have them.”

Customer: *really cranky with me now* “Well, where are they?”

Me: *pointing to the shelf directly in front of her* “Right here.”

(She snatched the cans off the shelf and grumbled out of my life forever.)

(I stop by the meat counter at my local grocery store to stock up on some different meats. I decide to pick up some chicken, as it is on sale. Thus far, I’ve been making friendly small talk with the guy behind the counter, and nothing amiss has occurred.)

Meat Guy: “Anything else I can get for you, ma’am?”

Me: “Yes, could I please get a pound of the chicken drumsticks?”

Meat Guy: “Sure thing.”

(He reaches down and pulls out the tray, then grabs a handful of them and places them on the scale to check the weight. It comes out to 0.99 pounds. He then bends down to put back the tray with the rest of the drumsticks.)

Me: *jokingly* “Oh, man, 0.99 pounds isn’t going to cut it! I need exactly one pound.”

Meat Guy: *stands up, looking absolutely terrified* “Oh, uh, um, really? I…”

Me: *realizing he took me seriously* “Oh, my gosh, no! I was totally kidding. 0.99 is just fine.”

Meat Guy: *still looking anxious* “Are you sure?”

Me: “Yeah, it’s not a problem. I’m usually fine with whatever I get, as long as it’s within about a tenth of a pound off from what I asked for. I’m actually amazed it’s so close to a pound!”

Meat Guy: “Oh!” *laughs* “Okay. Some people actually do insist that I fix it when this happens.”

(You’d think that after five years of reading this site, I’d realize that some people actually are horrible enough to do that.)