I used to work in a grocery store. I had worked there for seven years, but thankfully, I have since left.

I went into this store to get some things for a dish, but you would have guessed they were handing out free money or something because the store was so crowded. Every register was open, but you still had to wait in a huge-a** line because it was so busy.

I came from the beach; I’m in a swimsuit (normal in my beach town), and I’m holding a bunch of things. I go through the checkout and chat with my old coworkers. I love them. 

Anyway, on my way to the door, a man drops an entire gallon of milk all over the floor. I swear it was like he just poured it everywhere. I look up to the cashiers and managers working, and I see their defeated eyes. Everyone was SO busy that no one had the opportunity to come clean this milk. So, I sigh and grab the cleaning supplies.

The man is just staring at the milk on the floor, not moving. I get on my hands and knees and toss the man some paper towels to help. He doesn’t move and says something like:

Customer: “I don’t work here; I don’t need to clean this.”

I ignore that statement and clean the milk WHILE IN A BATHING SUIT!

After I’m almost done. He asks me something like:

Customer: “Oh, do you work here?”

Me: “No, I’m just a decent human being.”

He left in a huff after that. 10/10 would do again. Take care of your retail workers!

Before I retired, I travelled a lot for work, about 175,000 miles per year on one major US airline. When I retired, I had flown several million miles with this carrier. With my frequent flyer status, I was nearly always upgraded on international flights.

I went to Japan at least eight times a year for decades and took the same flight over and over. Often, I would wear a white dress shirt and dark pants. Since I flew the same route so much, I knew most of the senior flight attendants and would kill time talking in the galley up front.

On one flight, I had been talking to a flight attendant whom I had known for years about family stuff, vacation plans, retirement, etc. She left the galley, and a younger flight attendant who had been standing with us asked me, as she got ready to block the galley with a beverage cart:

Younger Flight Attendant: “Are you ready to go back to the cockpit?”

Me: “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

She looked confused and said:

Younger Flight Attendant: “You’re one of the pilots. I see you on this flight all the time.”

She thought I was the captain on the flight, taking a break from the cockpit!

Me: “No, just a really, really good customer.”

She was shocked and embarrassed, but we started laughing.

Actually, variations on this happened several times. On the same route a year before, wearing the same kind of clothes, one of the flight attendants told me they had a new crew member who had never been to Tokyo.

Since we were flying into Haneda, which is right in Tokyo, and the crew’s layover was in Tokyo, not out at Narita, there was actually time to do things.

Flight Attendant: “Would you mind giving the new crew member a one-day itinerary super tour of the highlights of Tokyo?”

So I did, and then asked her:

Me: “What time would you be picked up at the hotel on your departure day? Since the plane leaves in the early evening, you might be able to squeeze in a couple more sites.”

She looked at me like I had lost my mind.

New Crew Member: “You know what time we get picked up, it’s in the crew manifest.”

Me: *Gently.* “No, I am not a member of the crew.”

New Crew Member: *Shocked.* “But aren’t you a pilot?”

The other variation was when a flight attendant would see me board, look at the passenger list ask:

Flight Attendant: “Why are you flying “revenue” instead of “nonrev”?”

Me: “Ah, because I have to pay to be on the flight, since I don’t work for the airline.”

She thought I was a pilot on vacation! You get the idea.

Caller: “Hi, I would like to order two large pizzas.”

Me: “Uhhhm, what?”

Caller: “I want two large pizzas. When will they be ready?”

Me: “Uhhhm, we don’t serve pizza?”

Caller: “What do you mean you don’t serve pizza?! Why?!”

Me: “Because this is my house and I am ten.”

Caller: *Click.*

I’m doing some shopping when I get a tap on my shoulder. A man asks me for help getting a jacket from a higher-up rack.

Me: “Oh, sorry, man, I don’t work here.”

Other Customer: “I know, you’re just taller than me, so you can help.”

I am 5’9″ on my tiptoes, and this dude is 5’7.

Me: “Okay?”

I proceed to reach for this jacket like a kid reaching for snacks on the top shelf. I get the jacket, hand it to him, and walk away before he says anything. Two minutes later, he finds me and says:

Other Customer: “You got the wrong size.”

An employee overhears this and asks him nicely:

Employee: “What are you doing, sir?”

He explained, and this employee looked perplexed.

Employee: “Sir, he told you he doesn’t work here. He is two inches taller than you. Why would you ever think you should ask a random person to help you shop?”

The other customer stayed silent while the employee went and got the hook that can get clothes from high up. The stick was in the back, behind a door that said “EMPLOYEES ONLY”.

I got rung up after this and they scanned a coupon they had that I didn’t to give me some dollars off as a thank you for my inconvenience.

Yeah, I don’t work there, but I got asked for help on the top shelf like the jolly green giant at 5’9″.

A customer came up to me at the Andersons (grocery store) and asked me:

Customer: “Where do I find the dowel rods? I need it for a tall cake.”

Me: “I don’t know.”

Customer: *Immediately upset.* “Get the manager!”

The manager must have been close by because he immediately came over, and the customer went on a tirade about wasting money by hiring people who:

Customer: “…don’t know s***! What a complete waste of space. Why did you even hire a moron like him!?”

Manager: “I didn’t. Going by his uniform, I’m assuming he works at Kinkos.”

I point at my uniform, smile, and get on with my day while the customer sputters something about uniforms shouldn’t be worn when not at work.