(I am ordering cigarettes behind our customer service counter while my coworker mans the desk. She is nearer our display of packs of cigarettes than I am, so I call out to ask her how many we have left of a particular brand.)

Me: “How many [brand] menthol blue’s do we have?”

(She looks at the display, confused.)

Coworker: “Uhh… which ones are those?”

Me: “The blue ones on your left.”

(She continues to look around the display with no success. She’s running her finger along the rows of tags, trying to find them.)

Me: “One row down, on your left.”

(She drops her finger TWO rows, and stares, lost.)

Me: “No, one row. Move one row up.”

(She does so, and then stops again. She’s on the right row, but on the wrong side of the display.)

Coworker: “Where?”

Me: “On your left.”

(She moves one single pack to the left. They aren’t even blue.)

Coworker: “These ones?”

Me: “Keep going… keep going…”

Coworker: “Wait, which way is left again?”

Me: *facepalm*

(My friend and I are grocery shopping. We have brought a shopping-list, but we still miss a couple of things.)

Friend: “Oh, darn! I forgot to get orange juice! You just wait here. Don’t move; I’ll be right back.”

(She hurries back to the refrigerated section. I wait for a while, and realize that she has left me at a bit of a bottleneck, blocking traffic. I know she’s going to take a while to chose an OJ, so I decide to go and get one of the other things we are missing. I head down the aisles, looking at the labels for trash bags. There’s an employee standing at the end of an aisle.)

Employee: “Hi, are you finding everything?”

Me: “I’m looking for trash bags. Where will I find those?”

Employee: “Oh, yeah, it’s right at the end of this aisle on the left.”

Me: “Thanks!”

Employee: “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Me: “Actually, yes. So I’m helping my friend shop, and she told me to wait over there, but I’m going to get trash bags. In a little bit, she’s going to come around the corner and look lost, then annoyed, and then start searching aisles. Could you tell her where I went?”

Employee: “Uh… Yeah, sure.”

(A little bit later, my friend appears next to me with a look of confusion on her face.)

Me: “You found me!”

Friend: “Yeah… How did the employee know I was looking for you?”

(I am working, and a couple come into my aisle. They are arguing quite loudly.)

Woman: “That’s it; you are sleeping on the couch tonight!”

Man: “That’s perfectly fine, dear; my hand is better in bed than you are anyway.”

(It takes all I have not to burst out laughing in the middle of the aisle.)

(I’m female, but due to my height, my short hair cut, and our gender neutral uniforms, I’m often mistaken as male.)

Customer: “Excuse me, sir?”

Me: *turns around* “Yes, sir?”

Customer: *blinks* “Oh, I’m sorry! I thought you were a man! Well, I mean, it’s not that you look masculine. Not that you look weak either! You’re very beautiful. I just saw short hair and a ball cap. Not that girls can’t wear ball caps! Or have short hair! I like short hair on women. It’s very nice! I mean, ah, your hair is. Some women can’t pull it off. I like your eyes!”

(The customer turns red and I am trying not to laugh.)

Me: “Thank you very much, sir. Can I slice you some lunch meat?”

Customer: “Yes. And then just toss it in the hole I tried to dig myself out of, would you?”

Me: “Not a problem. We cater to stranger requests.”

(As the customer is leaving, he gives me a very large smile.)

Customer: “You know something? You really ARE quite beautiful. Have a nice day!”

(I did have a nice day, and all because of him!)

(I am a customer. I approach a cashier, with my children in tow.)

Me: “Howdy, do you have any cooking sherry? I didn’t see any on the floor.”

Cashier: “Yes, we keep it up here.”

Customer Behind Me: “Are you really holding up the line for alcohol?”

Me: “You mean, am I a paying customer who waited in line, without harassing the other store-goers, and is now waiting for a product that is only attained at the front of the store?”

Customer Behind Me: “Ugh, disgusting. And your kids are standing right there, too. You’re disgusting.”

My Six-Year-Old Daughter: “She is not disgusting! You are, for being so rude! Didn’t your mommy teach you any manners?! Be patient and wait your turn just like everybody else!”

(The next customer in line behind the rude customer joins in.)

Customer #2: “Seriously, stop being a jerk, and wait your turn.”

Customer Behind Me: “F*** this!”

(The customer behind me walks out.)

Cashier: “About time someone told him off. He’s a jerk to everyone he sees.”

My Six-Year-Old Daughter: “That guy needs to learn some manners, or he’s not gonna have any friends!”