(I work at a library where people can come in to use the computer if they need to.)

Lady: “Excuse me. Could you help me? I’m having trouble with the computer.”

Me: “Sure, what’s the problem?”

Lady: “I can’t log on. It’s not taking my card.”

Me: “Huh, that’s weird. My computer says everything is okay. Let me go check.”

Lady: “I don’t know why it never works for me. The first time it came in it worked but every time after that it hasn’t! You guys always have problems with your computers. You should get that fixed as soon as possible!”

Me: “Alright then, let me see what you’re doing. Where’s your card?”

Lady: “It’s in the computer!”

Me: “What do you mean it’s in the computer?”

Lady: “There, in the computer! I put it in but it won’t log me on!” *points to the computer*

(I see it sticking out of where it obviously does NOT belong and take it out.)

Me: “No. That’s not how you log on. You see the numbers on the back of the card? Enter that into the computer, then your pin, and click log on.”

Lady: *looks at me confused* “Did you guys change this because that’s how it worked for me last time!”

Me: “No, that’s how it has always been. In fact, if you had looked at the screen, you would have seen that it tells you exactly what to do.”

Lady: “Don’t take that tone with me, young lady! Just log me on!”

(I logged her on to the computer, but since she was a b**ch to me, I kicked her off early.)

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(Due to a power outage we had to close our store. The lights were all out and there were 2 large green bristol board signs displaying “CLOSED, NO POWER, SORRY”. A woman walks up, walks through the entryway, and tries the door to the store proper, which is locked. She then turns around goes to the exit door, pulls it open, and walks in. I stop her.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, there is a power outage. We’re closed.”

Woman: “Does that mean I can come in?”

Me: “No. ‘Closed’ means you can’t come in.”

Woman: “Then how come THEY’RE allowed in?” *points to people behind cash registers all wearing store aprons*

Me: “Uh… they work here.”

Woman: *leaves angrily*

This story is part of the Closing Time roundup!

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(A lady comes in with a bag of shirts.)

Lady: “I need to return these.”

Me: “Sorry we can’t take those back, they’re opened…”

Lady: “Why the h*** not!?”

Me: “You can only return the shirts if they’re unopened. It’s the store policy.”

Lady: “Bull-s***, you’re trying to rip me off! You’re supposed to take these back; they don’t fit my husband!”

Me: “If you read the policy you would know you couldn’t bring them back, ma’am.”

Lady: “What store policy?!”

(I point to the store policy above and behind me on a red sign in big white letters. The lady snatches the bag of shirts and starts stomping off. My manager, who was watching the whole time, finally says something.)

Manager: “I’m sorry, ma’am, next time you should read the policy–”

Lady: *cuts off my manager* “I DON’T F**KING READ!!”

(I work at a sandwich shop. I have conversations like this every day. Mind you, he has a line of twelve other customers behind him. Also, note that Hearty Italian only describes the type of bread.)

Customer: “I’d like a six-inch hearty Italian.”

Me: *gets bread* “What would you like on that?”

Customer: “Six-inch hearty Italian.”

Me: “What would you like ON it?”

Customer: “Hearty Italian.”

Me: “What kind of sandwich is it?”

Customer: “Six-inch.”

Me: *heavy sigh* “Oooookay then…”

Coworker: “Hi, can I start you off with any drinks or appetizers?”

Customer: “Lettuce!”

Coworker: “…”