(I am a manager of a key shop and I usually have three young, part-time employees. To try to be fair, I usually give each employee the same schedule each week so that they can plan their lives knowing what days they will have off in the future, and I also give each one about the same number of hours each week. A longtime employee has moved on and I have replaced him. This is the new guy’s first job ever. It is explained to him that this is an hourly position. Things are going fine for about two months, and then the new guy decides to take off for about half his scheduled hours in the same week for personal stuff. This is not a problem because the others are fine with covering his hours. However, on payday the following week, the new guy has a serious problem…)

New Guy: “Hey, boss, why is my check half of what is usually is?”

Me: “Because you took off two days that week.”

New Guy: “But I was scheduled to work.”

Me: “Yeah, but you didn’t work.”

New Guy: “What does that have to do with it? I was scheduled.”

Me: “Yes, but you only get paid for what you actually work.”

New Guy: “So, you are telling me that if I don’t work my schedule I don’t get paid?”

Me: “Bingo.”

New Guy: “You didn’t tell me this when I was hired.”

Me: “I didn’t tell you that the sun comes up in the morning either, but it still does. ‘Actual work equals actual pay’ is something everyone is supposed to know.”

New Guy: “This can’t be right; I need the same pay every week.”

Me: “Then work your hours.”

New Guy: “But sometimes I need a day off.”

Me: “Then you get paid less.”

New Guy: “This is not fair. I’m going to talk to my dad about this.”

Me: “Enjoy. I wish I could be there.”

(The next time I saw him he had a firmer grasp upon reality.)

(I work at the largest farm of an orchard chain. This season we have had to start charging a very small field pass to customers interested in picking their own fruits and veggies. Unfortunately, this change has not been the most popular and we have had to deal with several unhappy people as a result. I work in one of the inside portions, so I don’t get a huge amount of nasty people, but this older woman gave me a good laugh.)

Customer: *setting three plants down at my register, looking down and mumbling something I can’t hear*

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, I didn’t quite catch that. Could you please repeat?”

Customer: *sharply and still not looking at me* “What is your sale on perennials?”

(I happily explain the deal, which not only do her plants qualify for, but she has not reached the per customer limit and can get a few more at the sale price. Normally this would make the customer happy, but not her. She ignores my answer, spending almost the entire transaction refusing to look at me and giving off a generally negative vibe. I shrug it off and finish dealing with the plants.)

Me: “All right, ma’am, I have these three set. Is that all for you?”

Customer: *mumbles again*

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am?”

Customer: *finally looking up and in a tone that only peeved old ladies can conjure up* “You’re charging a field ticket, aren’t you?”

Me: “Uh, yes, ma’am. $1 per person.”

(Her expression twists like she has bitten into a rotten apple. She keeps it that way as I help her navigate our card reader. While she gathers her items I go through my normal “have a good day” song and dance, which is promptly ignored. Slightly fed up with her, I pull out my most polite, customer service voice and smile, and say:)

Me: “I hope you have a GREAT time picking your peaches!”

(Her face made my night!)

(A woman is calling to check on the status of her order. She has given me her name and company.)

Me: “Do you have your order number with you today?”

Caller: “Yes.”

Me: *after leaving a short pause so I won’t talk over her if she starts giving the number right away* “And what is your order number?”

Caller: *no reply*

Me: “Ma’am?”

Caller: *no reply*

Me: “Are you still there, [Caller]?”

Caller: “I’m still here.”

Me: “May I have the order number, please, ma’am?”

Caller: “Oh, I thought you were waiting for something.”

I am standing in a long line for a roller coaster on a hot day. A lady takes an object out of her purse and passes it to her teenage son, who uses it, passes it on to two teenage daughters, and then to the husband, who each use it in succession. Finally, it goes back to the wife and back into her purse.

It’s a deodorant stick.

(I work at a fast food place at a highway rest stop. Since our prices are higher than others of our kind, I usually tell customers certain combinations they can do to save money. This happens during one of my breakfast shifts. An elderly couple walks up to the counter.)

Me: “Hi, what can I get for you today?”

Husband: “Can I get [Breakfast Platter] but without the pancakes?”

Wife: “And I just want an order of pancakes.”

Me: “Okay, well, if you want to make it cheaper, we can just do the [Breakfast Platter] with the pancakes. That way, you can sav—“

Husband: “I don’t want pancakes. She does.”

Me: “Yes, but the end result would be the same. I could even tell them to plate it sep—“

Husband: “I don’t want the pancakes. She does.”

Wife: “He’s telling you that you can save money by—“

Husband: “I don’t want pancakes. We’ll do it like this.”

Me: “…Okay, then.”

(I rang them up and gave them their change. They left me standing there in utter confusion. I hope the guy realized he could have saved $4 and me a lot of headache.)