(I work in a retail pharmacy in a suburban city. A lot of snobbish, entitled people come through our line every day, thinking they are God’s gifts to the world and that we should feel honored to bend over backward and kiss their a**es. It’s a Sunday afternoon, during a slow hour in the late summer. It’s just me and my pharmacist working today. I’m helping someone in our drive-thru, so the pharmacist helps this guy who comes up to the counter. I overhear this exchange as I’m ringing up the person I’m helping.)

Pharmacist: “Hi, there! How can I help you?”

Customer: “Yeah, I’m picking up a prescription.”

Pharmacist: *looks up the guy’s name in the system and goes to retrieve his script* “Just so you know, sir, we didn’t have the full quantity of this medication in stock, so we had to give you a partial supply. We should have the rest in tomorrow morning, though.”

Customer: *raising his voice* “You know, this is bulls***. I got a phone call saying that my prescription was ready in full, but every time I come here, you guys only have a part of the d*** thing!”

Pharmacist: “I do apologize, sir. Are you sure the phone call said it was done in full?”

Customer: “What, do you think I’m stupid?! Of course it did! Here, listen!”

(He pulled out his phone and replayed the voicemail on speaker so we could hear. It very clearly stated that the prescription was ready for a PARTIAL FILL. Obviously flushed and embarrassed, the guy tried to brush it off like it was still our fault, paid for his partial, and left. My pharmacist paraded that little victory around for the rest of the year.)

(I have worked in customer service for approximately five years, but this is my first year working fast food, and I have gotten quite a large number of customers who seem to lack basic intelligence, or at least simple math skills. Note: this happens AT LEAST three times a day. Every. Day.)

Me: “Hi! Welcome to [BBQ Store]. What can I get for you today?”

Customer: “Hi. I’d like the [three-side meat plate] with brisket. How many sides do I get with that?”

Me: “You get three sides.”

Customer: “Three?”

Me: “Yes.”

Customer: *thinks for a minute* “All right I want [side #1] and [side #2].”

Me: “You get one more side.”

Customer: “I get another side?”

(I attempt to not roll my eyes. I assure the customer that, yes, you get three sides, and no, two sides do not equal three. Thankfully, it has happened enough times to where I can see the humor in it, and I tend to mime banging my head against the brick counter, much to the amusement of my coworkers.)

(I work at a popular non-profit tourist attraction in NYC. All of our admission is by donation, so we make sure that we have as many ways to collect donations as possible. The following happens to me several times every day as I sit at the visitor services desk.)

Me: “Welcome to [Tourist Attraction]! All admission is by donation. Donations can be made with me by cash, credit, or [voucher], on your way inside at the cash box, or at any of the credit card machines throughout.”

Guest: “Okay. So, where should we make the donation?”

(I work at an office supply store that wears red shirts. After work, I go to a grocery store where employees wear black shirts. As I’m heading toward the deli section…)

Deli Worker: *pointing directly at me* “He’ll show you where they are.”

Customer: “Sir, where are your onions?”

Me: “Uh, I’m really sorry, but I don’t actually work here. I have no idea why that employee pointed to me.”

(The customer walks away.)

Grocery Store Manager: *walking up to me* “Uh, excuse me? That is not acceptable behavior! Come with me right this instant!“

(I try to tell her that I don’t work here, but she won’t let me finish. She keeps demanding that I shut up and follow her into the office. At this point, I’m feeling mischievous, and I slowly start to grin. I decide to play along, just to see how long it takes, and follow her.)

Grocery Store Manager: *pointing to a chair* “Sit down!”

(I’ve now got a GIANT smile on my face, and I sit down. She begins to berate me and tell me she’s had issues with me ever since hiring me, and that she’s received many complaints.)

Grocery Store Manager: “So, in your words, what should I tell the district manager about how you will change your attitude?”

Me: “I’m not going to change anything about my attitude.”

Grocery Store Manager: “Well, then, I have no choice but to write you up for insubordination!”

Me: “Okay.”

(I’m still smiling the biggest smile I can. She still hasn’t picked up on the fact that I’m not one of her employees, even though I’m not in a uniform that her store uses, and my actual store name is clearly visible.)

Grocery Store Manager: “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Me: “Actually, I do. I have a question.”

Grocery Store Manager: “Go ahead.”

Me: “Do you recognize me… at all?“

Grocery Store Manager: “You’re the new guy.”

Me: “Are you sure?”

Grocery Store Manager: “Why?!”

Me: “Because I work at [Office Store], you idiot. Read my shirt!”

(She finally did. I watched her arrogant expression transform to disbelief, then to a kind of horror as she realized that she’d just dragged a customer into the back and spent a good chunk of time yelling at them. I laughed and told her to get her glasses checked, got up, and left the store. I still shop at that store, but I have never seen her there ever again.)

(I work at a sandwich shop where the employees make the subs right in front of you down an assembly line. It is the beginning of lunch before the lunch crowd rolls in, so there are no customers in the store yet. My coworker and I see two customers walk in, so we approach the bread station and greet them as we wash our hands.)

Me: “Hi! How are you today?”

(The customers nod at me but otherwise ignore us. I’ve finished washing my hands and I’m putting my gloves on at the bread station. The two customers are deeply involved in a conversation.)

Me: “Whenever you’re ready, I can grab your bread selection for you.”

(The customers don’t even acknowledge me, and continue their conversation. My coworker has her hands washed and joins me with her gloves on, and we both stand patiently at the counter while they are chatting loudly and animatedly, facing each other and not even looking at us. Every once in a while my coworker tries to catch their eyes and opens her mouth to speak but they continue to chat, waving their arms around and laughing. Suddenly, mid-sentence, one of the customers snaps his head at us and glares.)

Customer: “So, do you plan on taking our order or not? We’ve been waiting for five minutes already!”

Coworker: *gives me a side glance* “Yeah, sir, we’re ready when you are.”