(My coworker has a habit of waving to customers as he greets them. He does this with his arm in an L-shape, the upper arm parallel to the floor, the forearm pointing straight up, and waving with his palm facing the customer.)

Coworker: *waving* “Hi! Can I help you?”

Customer: “OH, MY GOD! Are you doing the Hitler salute?!”

Coworker: *thunderstruck* “Uh…”

Customer: “What the f*** is this, some kind of Nazi Mart?! Do you have any idea how offensive it is when I come up here to get some meat like a normal person and to have someone go, ‘HEIL HITLER!’ out of the f****** blue?!”

Coworker: “Wait, you mean this?” *points to the waving hand with the other hand*

Customer: “OH, MY GOD, you just did it again!”

Coworker: “No, no, that’s not the Hitler salute. This is what the Hitler salute looks like.”

Me: “[Coworker], don’t!”

(Too late. He gives the Hitler salute, with his arm fully extended and slightly raised, palm down. Quick as lightning, the customer whips out her phone and takes a picture of him.)

Customer: “HA! I got you! You just wait until I show this to your boss, you f****** a**hole!”

(She went to the customer service desk and demanded to see the store manager. We couldn’t hear the conversation that followed, but we could hear the woman getting progressively louder and angrier, until the manager slammed his hands down on the counter and violently gestured for her to leave the store. She stomped out in a rage. Later on, the manager told us that she had demanded all her groceries for free or she’d take the picture to the local news and get us permanently branded as “Nazi Mart.” He didn’t even need to hear my coworker’s side of the story.)

(I’m a cart pusher at a popular grocery store in town. At the end of evening shifts, I usually buy something as a late-night snack. Tonight, it was pretty busy ten minutes before closing. We only had two cashiers left and they both had a long line of customers. I get into the express line with my snacks, which has about ten people in front of me. One of them has about thirty or forty items, well over the sixteen-item limit for express, in his cart and is getting annoyed and talking to himself.)

Customer: “Someone open another f***in’ register, Jesus Christ!”

(I thought nothing of that comment, since I see people frustrated with long lines all the time here. After a few seconds, I decide that the wait wasn’t worth it. I put the snacks back, clock out and go outside to wait for my dad, who’s still shopping inside. A few minutes later, my dad comes to the truck.

Me: “Pretty busy, eh?”

Dad: “Yeah, you should have seen one of the guys in front of me! He was yelling for someone to open another register and he chucked his cart aside on the way out!”

(I think I can guess who he was talking about.)

(I’m the dumb customer in this story. The grocery store my Mom and I sometimes go to has a liquor section. Originally, you were allowed to pay for your alcohol and grocery purchases here. Except for today, there was a sign that said only alcohol purchases were to be made at this till. My Mom went off to find some alcohol purchases, while I was left with the cart. I was anxious for her to come back, because I’m at the register alone with the lady. I started unloading the groceries out of the cart to be helpful, when I’m told this:)

Cashier: Oh, I can only ring up alcohol purchases.

(My Mom came back, just as I was shown the sign. I told my Mom:)

Me: I was about to unload the cart, and I didn’t see the sign there.

Mom: The sign’s right there. (Literally, at the beginning of the till.)

(I’m not feeling well at the time, and I swear the cold has gone to my head. Plus, it didn’t help that the song “Take Me to Church” by Hozier was on. I f****** hate that song more than words can describe, so I was also distracted on my silent ranting of the song.)

Me: Oh, I didn’t see the sign there.

(I said that, thinking about the stories I read on here about how customers don’t see the signs. I admitted that I had a blonde moment, because of my cold. Though, my Mom didn’t blame me for starting to unload the groceries, since the till originally allowed you to do that. Now, skipping over to the Subway next door; my Mom and I went to pick up a few subs. My Mom said this:)

Mom: You can get the biggest sub and just have the second half later.

Me (thinking, before saying): How long are the biggest subs again?

Mom: Foot-long.

Me: Oh, right!

(I admitted once again that I was having increasing blonde moments today. The worker, a Pakistani man, who spoke fairly good English, questioned what I said, and my Mom’s reply was:)

Mom: She’s not quite awake yet.

(When she said that, I was just thinking, “No, I’m awake. My cold has just gone to my head.” Though, before we left the store, I went to grab drinks out of the cooler. I tried to grab for the handle that wasn’t even on that side of the cooler. After I told my Mom my third blonde moment, I thought to myself, “I shouldn’t go out, when I’m sick…)

(My family is at the store, buying groceries. This particular store happens to have a smoothie bar, and my mother decides that she would like something to drink. My parents wait in line while my brother and I go to get the smoothie for her. While there, we are treated to this interaction. There is a respectable-looking woman at the front of the line, who has just hung up on her cell phone.)

Woman: “One [smoothie], please!”

Cashier: “Sure. Small, medium, or large?”

Woman: “A large. Extra ice.”

Cashier: “Your total is [total]. [Employee near the blender], one large [smoothie] with extra ice!”

(The woman pays. The cashier moves on to the next customer and the woman moves over to watch her drink get made. The employee begins making the woman’s drink and puts a peeled carrot into the blender.)

Woman: *suddenly angry* “No, no, no! You don’t put carrots in first! You put in the tangerines!”

Employee: *looking surprised* “I’m sorry?”

Woman: “Tangerines are first! Not carrots!”

Employee: *still surprised* “Ma’am, this is a [smoothie]. Both carrots and tangerines go in here.”

Woman: “But the tangerines are first!“

Employee: *looks unsure of what to do*

Woman: “You f****** idiot! I’m going to speak to your manager!”

(She marches off, and most of the people in the area seem to roll their eyes or groan. When my brother and I get to the front of the line, this happens:)

Woman: *stomps back to the front of the line, shoving me backwards towards my brother and the two men behind me* “A MEETING! WHAT MANAGER HAS MEETINGS?!”

Cashier: *looking slightly irritated* “Ma’am—”

Woman: “All of you f****** idiots should be fired!“

(She stomps back out of the line and shoves me back again, loudly informing everyone that she plans to call the “boss of the stores.”)

Cashier: *sighs and turns towards me and my brother* “And what would you like?”

Me: *regaining my balance* “…”

Brother: *still staring in the woman’s direction* “Uh… We’ll have a small [other smoothie].”

Cashier: “That will be [total].”

Brother: *hands cashier money* “Thanks. Do you have to deal with her often?”

Cashier: *rolls eyes* “Oh, yeah, she’s a regular—”

Brother: “Ouch.”

Cashier: “But this was a pretty good day for her.”

(I am a checkout clerk at a locally-owned grocery store. There are only a few stores in our small state, and one in a neighboring state. This week our stores have a sale on bottled water: three 24-bottle cases for $9. Our state also has a 5¢ deposit on all water bottles. This is an exchange I have with a college student.)

Customer: “I thought the bottles were three for $9?”

Me: “They are, plus a 5¢ deposit for each bottle, so they come to $9 + $3.60 of bottle deposit — which you get back once you recycle the bottles — bringing your title to $12.60.”

Customer: “Do all of your stores have this sale? Even the one in [Neighboring State]?”

Me: “Yes, they do.”

Customer: “Do you know if they have a deposit on water bottles?”

Me: “I don’t believe so.”

Customer: “Okay, cancel my order. I am too lazy and cheap to come back, and spend the money on a deposit.” *laughs*

(But apparently he wasn’t too cheap or lazy to spend the money on gas and drive to the next state over and back.)