Customer: “Where is the soda?”

Me: “Oh, it’s right there, on aisle ten.”

Customer: “NO! Not that soda.”

Me: “Um… Which soda?”

Customer: “Baking soda.”

(She scoffed as if she couldn’t believe I didn’t know what she meant.)

(I am working as a cashier at a bulk food place. One of the duties for cashiers is cleaning up the store after closing. A colleague and I are cleaning, then a few minutes later…)

Colleague: “Hey, [Supervisor], my dad is here to drive me home.”

Supervisor: “You’re not done cleaning yet, though.”

Colleague: *whining* “But my dad is waiting!”

Supervisor: “Well, okay, you can leave.”

Me: “But that will leave me to do all the cleaning by myself.”

Supervisor: “You’re not getting a ride home, though, right? You have your own car.”

Me: “Well, yes, but—”

Supervisor: “So there’s no problem!”

(The supervisor leaves to do other work, and [Colleague] happily goes home. It takes me ages to do all the cleaning myself, so much so that I submit a claim for overtime. The following day…)

Big Boss: “What the heck? Why did you claim overtime for staying late last night?”

Me: *explains*

Big Boss: “I see. Okay, I’ll make sure you’re paid what you’re owed, and don’t worry; this will never happen again.”

(The supervisor got a royal chewing-out, with the admonition that no one would go home until the cleaning was done, period, not even if the Queen herself was waiting to give someone a ride.)

(I work at a medium-sized grocery store, according to Norwegian standards, and we’ve got a cash-handling system called CashGuard. The customer is supposed add coins themselves, while giving me the notes if they’re paying cash. A lot of people forget that they’re supposed to put the coins into the machine themselves and try to give them to me. I kindly say that they’re supposed to go into the machine.)

Me: “That’s [total].”

Old Lady: *tries to give me her coins*

Me: “They’re supposed to go in there.” *points at the coin machine*

Old Lady: “No, they’re not! You take them and say thank you, like they did in the good old times!” *throws coins at the counter and walks off*

Me: “…?”

(I’m a girl scout, selling cookies right outside the front doors of a grocery store with one of my friends. Suddenly, I hear shouting, and I watch as one of the cashiers tackles a guy running out of the store with a bottle of soda. A few minutes later, a cop shows up.)

Friend: “Did that guy seriously just try to steal a soda?”

Me: “I… think so?”

(The cop comes out with the criminal, now in handcuffs.)

Me: *to the criminal* “Hey, want to buy some cookies?”

Criminal: “Maybe next year, girls!”

(Before putting the criminal in her car, the cop just glares at me.)

Friend: *laughs*

(I work the customer service desk for a grocery store chain that recently got bought out by another company. A lot of the prices and former policies have changed, and understandably, a lot of our customers are not pleased. One evening, the phone rings:)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Store]. This [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Caller: *mumbling* “…company.”

Me: “Excuse me? I didn’t catch that.”

Caller: *mumbling* “…company!”

Me: “I’m sorry, I still don’t understand—”

Caller: *suddenly yelling* “I DON’T LIKE YOUR COMPANY!”

Me: *taken aback, unsure of how to respond* “I’m… sorry?”

Caller: “YOU SHOULD BE!” *click*