(I move into an apartment on the eighth floor and am looking to put some lighting on the balcony. I figure gazebo net lighting will work the best but am not sure how to hang it from the ceiling of the balcony. I ask an employee.)

Me: “So I want to hang lighting but I can’t drill into the ceiling as it’s a rental. Do you have any sort of adhesive hooks or some other lighting solution I could go with?”

Employee: “Well, you could always hook the lighting to your neighbor’s balcony.”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Employee: “You just reach up and wrap the lighting around the base of the neighbors railing.”

Me: “Uh, I don’t know if they would want me attaching things to their balcony. Also, we don’t have railings; it’s three feet of solid cement and the ceiling is seven feet.”

Employee: “Well, you just climb out and hang it.”

Me: “Did I mention I was on the eighth floor? With the height of the roof and the balcony, I’d have to reach up seven feet after climbing outside of the building 80 feet up. I don’t think that would work or be very safe.”

Employee: “Well, you would need your neighbor’s permission…”

Customer: *on phone* “Hi, do you have smoke bombs to get rid of animals indoors?”

Me: “Yes, we do carry smoke bombs, but the only ones we have are for outside; you light the bomb and put it in the burrow or the hole the animal’s living in and the smoke drives them out.”

Customer: “Why wouldn’t that work indoors?”

Me: “They’re really not designed to be set off anywhere but outside…”

Customer: “But I just need to get rid of some animals in a little crevice in my house. I could use those smoke bombs for that, right?”

Me: “I really would not advise that.”

Customer: “But why not, though? Can you tell me why it wouldn’t work?”

Me: “Um… let me put my manager on the phone.”

(I put the customer on hold and call my manager over to get him to pick up the phone to help the customer.)

Manager: “What’s up?”

Me: “Would you care to explain to someone why they cannot set off outdoor smoke bombs inside their house?”

Manager: “Oh, you can set smoke bombs off in your house no problem. Just as long as you don’t mind being asphyxiated from the fumes a few minutes later.”

(I have been working at a popular hardware store for about a year now. I’ve been loving it so far, especially when we have the garden center open. I always opt to be the cashier outside, since it’s usually much livelier out there and less stuffy than inside. For the winter, the garden associates built a small shack around the register, which makes the cold bearable. With the start of a new year, and having already had some pleasantly warm days, the shack is taken down. However, just recently we’ve been hit by a cold snap. Even huddling next to my meager heater, I’m losing feeling in my fingers and toes, and constant wind gusts make it impossible to retain any sort of heat from the heater. Nevertheless, I’m doing all that I can to cheerfully help customers.)

Me: *teeth chattering* “Hi there! You guys set to check out?”

Husband: *with wife in tow* “Sure are; it’s freezing out here! I hope they’re paying you extra.”

Me: *laughing* “Oh, I wish, but I’m actually happy with being out here. Even if cold, the air is fresh, and I don’t get to hear the same songs over and over.”

Husband: “Haha! Well, they should pay you more anyway. You have to be half-frozen by now!”

(Before I can jokingly interject, the wife speaks up.)

Wife: “Oh, I’m sure she’s fine. She’s young, she’s got a big coat on and her own heater, plus she’s not small like our daughter. More insulated.”

(The husband’s mouth snaps shut. My joke vanishes, and I’m not sure what to say. I am just slightly overweight and have long struggled with my weight, but I am by no means fat. I do have wide shoulders, being an active swimmer, which gives me an odd body shape, so I figure that’s why she made such an assumption. I usually brush off these comments, but nevertheless, this one certainly dampened my spirit. I continue ringing them out in meek silence, while the wife keeps going, unaware that she is basically insulting me.)

Wife: “In the arctic, those seals get by just fine because of blubber. The cold can’t get to them. It’s a great insulator. They don’t even need a heater.”

(I finish ringing up their items, and the husband proceeds to pay. He mouths, “I’m so sorry,” and I smile meekly.)

Me: *handing him the receipt* “H-have a good one.”

Husband: “You, too… Sorry. Try to stay warm.”

Wife: “Oh, she’ll be f—”

(The husband grabbed her around the shoulders and started marching away.)

This story is part of our Chilly Weather Roundup!

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(I work for a hardware retail chain, and we deal with a large volume of returns daily. This is one of my more interesting returns.)

Customer: “I want to return this drill. I didn’t use it.” *places drill on counter*

Me: “All right, let me just take a look here…”

(I open the re-sealed box and find a heavily used, abused drill, covered in dents, scratches, and drywall dust.)

Me: “I’m sorry, I can’t return this. It’s clearly been used.”

Customer: “Well, it didn’t work well for me. I don’t want it.”

Me: “How can I return that if nothing is wrong with it? It can’t be resold or returned to the supplier.”

Customer: “It shouldn’t damage as easily as it did.”

Me: “It looks like it’s been dropped a few times from a good height.”

Customer: “Never. It’s never been dropped. Just give me my money back so I can go. I’m a busy man.”

(I can see where this is going, so I reach below the desk and pull out the same brand drill that was written off a year ago for store use.)

Me: “This is our store drill, and it’s been used every day for the last year. You’ve had yours for two weeks. There is no justifying that amount of damage. I can’t return it. I’m sorry.”

Customer: *clearly upset* “This is stupid. You’re an idiot who clearly doesn’t understand power tools.”

Me: “I work in a hardware store selling drills, and I also work as a contractor. I know drills, sir.”

(After more of the same back and forth, the customer finally leaves, purposely leaving the drill behind because “it’s of no use now.” When I told them, all my managers could do was laugh.)

(The pin pads at our store allow the customer the option of getting an emailed receipt when they use a debit or credit card. Unfortunately, some form of this conversation happens at least once daily:)

Pin Pad: “Would you like an email receipt? [Yes] [No].”

Me: “There’s one more question there for you; it’s asking if you would like an email receipt.”

Customer: “Oh, no. Just the paper one.” *hits yes*

Pin Pad: “Please enter your email.”

Customer: “I don’t want an emailed receipt! Why is it asking for my email?!”

Me: “You hit yes…”