(I work in a sandwich shop. An older lady comes in with her two young grandsons. She orders two full kids’ meals and a six-inch sandwich, and when we get done making them, I begin ringing her up at the register. We are trained to ask if the customer would like chips, cookies, or a drink because sometimes people forget to tell us what else they want with their sandwich. Since I already know that she wants the full kids’ meals, which come with sides and drinks, I ask about her six-inch sandwich.)

Me: “Would you like chips, cookies, or a drink with the six-inch?”

Customer: *pats a bag of chips on the counter* “I have chips.”

Me: “All right. Two kids’ meals, the six-inch, and chips. That’ll be [$18 and some change].”

(She pays with her debit card, sends the kids to the table, and then grabs her sandwich and chips.)

Customer: “Does it come with a drink?”

Me: *pause* “I… would have to ring it up. I’m sorry. I can ring it up now.”

Customer: “Eighteen dollars and it doesn’t come with a drink? We won’t be coming here again.”

(She walked off to her table in a foul mood, causing my manager to ask me what happened. After I explained, he hurried over to calm her down and give her a free drink. And this is why I repeat back what I have rung up and sometimes ask a second or even third time if they would like anything else.)

My partner and I have ordered some new doors for our house. The salesperson was excellent; knowledgeable and friendly. He arranges for someone to come measure up our place.

A man comes out to our house to do the measuring; he turns out the be the owner. He, too, is very friendly. He advises he’ll go back to his office, draw up a quote, and let us know the price. 

He calls the following day and we are happy with the cost, so he says he will email an official quote through for us to pay a deposit. After a few days, we haven’t received anything, so I give him a call and he resends it.

The next day, I still haven’t received anything, so I give him another call and confirm my email address with him. It turns out he’s been putting a period in it (i.e jane.doe) when there shouldn’t be one. He says he’ll send the quote again.

I still receive nothing, so this time I email the owner, hoping he can just reply directly to me. Still nothing.

Another few days later, he calls me; I think he must want to discuss the emails, but nope! His shop carpenter has looked at the measurements he came and took from my house and told him they make no sense. He needs to come back out to the house and measure them again. So, we make a time and out he comes. 

When he is back in my house and in person, I discuss the email situation. He adamantly tells me he fixed it and shows me the order form he has in his hands to prove it… and what do you know, it’s still wrong. I write on his form my correct email address, even writing “NO DOT” next to it. Off he goes again.

Finally, he successfully sends me the quote, I pay it in full, and I email him remittance. I’m sure you can guess where this is going, but no receipt is returned. I call, ask for the receipt, he says he’s sent it. He reads the email address out to me on the phone…

“J-A-N-E-DOT-D-O-E…” and around we go again.

Our doors have finally been installed and are excellent — and thankfully the right size! — and the staff were nothing but friendly, but wow, what a trip to get there! And before you say I should have taken my business elsewhere when it started going wrong… I know. Hindsight is a b**** like that.

(I’m at a convention selling art supplies, including special alcohol art markers. For easy calculating, you can say that one art marker is five dollars, five markers has an offer of 20 dollars, and ten markers are 40 dollars. People often find them expensive; we, of course, understand and never pressure anyone. We also sell cases you can save the markers in: a case for 36 markers for ten dollars and a case for 72 markers for 15 dollars — also a special offer. The prices are mentioned near the products.)

Girl: “Wait, a case for 72 markers for 15 dollars?! I have to get that!”

(My father sells her the case; she uses a card, so we get a small fee on our side. The fee is small, so it means less profit for us. It’s a loss we calculated.)

Girl: “Great!” *walks over to me* “Can I see your markers? Which ones do you use the most?” 

(I talk to the girl and she mentions that she really wants the colours I have suggested. Since it’s not uncommon with us for people to buy one thing first and come back later, I’m thinking we’re up for a second sale. The girl starts putting markers in the case. When she reaches a third of the case, I walk to my dad.)

Me: *whispering* “She seems to have quite a budget.”

Father: “Well, she paid with a card; maybe she saved up. That happens pretty often.”

Me: “True.”

(Still, it feels off. The case is now half full. The girl is still happily browsing.) 

Me: “Dad, that’s a lot of markers. I know I shouldn’t judge, but she’s very young. She’s not thinking she gets the case and gets to pick her own markers, right?” 

Father: “Of course not! A single marker is five dollars! Anyone can conclude you can’t get a case of 72 markers for 15 dollars. Of course she knows that!”

(To save time, my father starts calculating the sale price. He has to do this manually, because of the special offers. He comes to a nice amount; a really good value for those markers.) 

Father: “Hey, I went ahead and calculated the sale price for you. If you want, you can pay now and keep on browsing at your own pace.”

(The girl stops and turns pale.)

Girl: “Pay?”

Father: *uneasy* “Yes… for the 72 markers?” 

Girl: “Eh… Oh… I thought… I mean… I misunderstood. I thought… I mean… I’ll put them all back.” 

(It becomes clear that the girl did think she could get hundreds of dollars of value for 15 dollars! My father also expects she will want a refund for the case, so he also takes the money out of our till — we can’t return it to a card. Indeed, she quietly asks if she can return the case, as well. We give the refund, having lost several cents and a lot of time… not to mention that the girl misplaces quite a few markers, so we have to check everything, as well. The second day of the convention, we discuss the event again.)

Me: “I’ll add a disclaimer with the cases: ‘markers not included.’”

Father: “Come on. Surely she is the only one. This won’t happen again.” 

(Later that day:)

Girl #2: “If I get that case for 36, can I pick my own colours or will you pick the colours for me?”

Me: “You can pick your own colours, but just to be clear, the price is for the case only. There are no markers included.” *points at disclaimer*

Girl #2: “I have to pay for the markers separately?!”

(Next convention, the disclaimer will be in bold and red. With arrows. And exclamation marks!)

(I volunteer at a wildlife charity that mainly runs on our entry cost and visitor donations. It’s a relatively slow Sunday and I’m making my way past the aviaries near the entrance when I see a family that just came in. We notice each other and I think nothing of it; I’m about to get on with my duties when one of them approaches me.)

Visitor: “Excuse me, mate. Where do we pay?”

Me: *looking back toward the entry gate they must have come through not two minutes ago* “Just at the window there.”

(They apologised and went back to pay, looking rather embarrassed about it. I went to go serve them, silently wondering how they had managed to miss the multiple notes we have at the entrance reminding people to pay before entering, including one on the price list, attached to the gate they went through in the first place!)

(The plane is sitting at the runway, waiting to take off, and the flight attendant’s giving her normal pre-flight instructions, but for the most part, people are ignoring her. She continues unfazed.)

Flight Attendant: “Remember to put on your own mask before helping children, those who can’t get their own, or those who aren’t listening.”

(Surprisingly, the flight was relatively quiet.)