I am twenty and working at a pet store. We have a sale on bird cages. This weird-looking guy in his forties comes up to my counter with a cage.

Customer: “I’m buying this for my cockatiel.”

I try to make polite conversation.

Me: “Aw, cockatiels are so cute!”

I ring up all the guy’s purchases, and the receipt prints. He takes it and inspects it, but then he looks confused.

Me: “Is there something missing from the receipt?”

Customer: “Yeah. Your phone number.”

I worked for years in an upscale restaurant owned by a Greek family. If you have ever worked for a Greek family, you know that if you’re there for years, you ARE family. In the decade that I waited tables there, I had exactly two experiences that upset me due to customers. One involved the grabbing of a body part by a drunk customer and ended up with the owner, the head waiter, two busboys, the chef, and the dishwasher yelling at him in four different languages. He ended up in the dumpster; I am not sure he knows completely what happened.

The other was this.

The customer was by himself and a jerk to start out. His food was too slow, not right, too cold… blah, blah, blah. The fourth time his reorder came, it was apparently fine — or the three martinis kicked in. The staff was keeping an eye on him, too, because I never complained about a customer.

Except him.

Me: “Would you like any dessert?”

Customer: “You, covered in whipped cream, honey!”

Then, he slapped my a**.

I. WAS. LIVID.

I had a pitcher in my hand to refill water. Yep. Right over his head.

Customer: *Screaming* “Get me the owner, right now!”

She came out, and he stood there dripping.

Customer: “She maliciously poured water all over me! I want her fired immediately!”

I just stood there with my arms crossed. [Owner] looked at me.

Owner: “You dump water on him?”

Me: “Yep.”

Owner: “He deserves or accident?”

Me: “He absolutely deserved it.”

She started out in English, but at some point turned to Greek. Without turning around, she made a “come here” gesture toward the kitchen. Every male in the kitchen came out and stood behind us. After a bit of back and forth, she ended with:

Owner: “This good girl. She not mad easy. She handle party of sixty herself. She do this, then you a bad man. You pay. Leave good tip. Then, you never come back to any of my restaurants.”

She took his picture and made sure all five of her restaurants in our not-very-big-town had a copy and his name.

I’m a nurse. I have to “shave prep” someone’s inguinal area for an upcoming cardiac angiogram. This is the area where your thigh meets your hip. Try to find your pulse there; that’s the spot.

Me: “I’m going to go get the clippers, sir. Just lay on the bed and drape this towel over your privates.”

I come back to find him standing naked.

Patient: “What? I thought you wanted to see my d**k.”

Me: “Sir… what part of my instructions to cover yourself made you think I wanted to see it?”

Patient: “Oh… Sorry.”

My coworker is very good-looking — to the point he once caught some teenage girls stealthily taking photos of him. He once had an older guy in a red hat with a particular political slogan on it go on a prolonged pro-[Politician] rant. Then, the guy winked and told [Coworker] in a weirdly seductive voice:

Customer: “You’re obviously too pretty to be a Democrat.”

It came out of nowhere and was… creepily flirty.

And I’m pretty sure [Coworker] IS a Democrat.

I’m twenty or twenty-one, and I’m checking out an older man.

Customer: “Can I set you up on a date with my grandson?”

Me: “What?!”

Customer: “You’re not wearing any rings!”

I really didn’t appreciate that.