(Having just finished my weekly shop, I go to the till and scan all of my items. After bagging — in the UK, we bag our own items — I follow the prompts on the card machine. The card machine flashes a strange message, which looks sort of corrupted, and then it asks me to remove my card, which I do.)

Cashier: “Excuse me? You need to put your card back in.”

Me: “It told me to remove it; I think there’s something wrong—”

Cashier: *patronizing* “Okay, sweetie! You need to put your card in. I’ll tell you when to put your PIN in, and then when to take it out.”

Me: “I know how to do that! There’s something wrong with the machine.”

Cashier: “Just put your card in, sweetie. I’ll tell you when.”

Me: *rolls eyes to myself* “Fine.”

(I put the card in the machine and this time it makes a horrible beeping noise. I’ve worked in retail and have never seen anything like it before. It asks me to remove my card again.)

Me: “It’s telling me to remove my card again.”

Cashier: “Nuh-uh, sweetie, you need to put your PIN in first.”

Me: “I’m not putting my PIN in that thing! Could you swipe it, please? I’ll sign.”

Cashier: “You removed it too soon!” *speaking to me like I am five years old* “Put it back in.”

Me: “You know what? I’ve got cash. Just put it through as cash.”

Cashier: “Sure thing, sweetie!”

(I walked to customer service and reported the faulty machine, but didn’t say anything about the cashier. As I was leaving, I realised I had forgotten something so I darted through the tills again. I chose a different till. I overheard the manager explaining to the cashier that she wasn’t even meant to be logged in on that till because it had a known fault and was waiting for a repairman.)

(I am a customer filling a prescription for my daughter. A middle-aged woman comes up to the drop-off desk and waits for someone to come over to her.)

Customer: “I want to speak to the manager.”

Pharmacist: “I’m the pharmacist; we don’t have a manager back here.” 

Customer: “Well, I want you to change your phone system. Every time [Pharmacy] calls me, I have to call back and dial one and it won’t let me, so I don’t know what you’re calling for.”

Pharmacist: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do; that’s an IT issue.”

Customer: “Well, this is the second time I’ve had to talk to someone. How am I supposed to know what you’re calling about and what I need to do?”

Pharmacist: “Well, ma’am, you can call [1-800 number] and speak to someone in IT, but this is how our system works. I’m sorry you miss the phone calls and that your phone doesn’t work, but there’s nothing I can do.”

Customer: “You need to fix it or I’m going to take my business somewhere else. I need these prescriptions and if I can’t get through, then I have to go somewhere else.”

(At that point, I had to chase after my child, but when I went back to pick up my daughter’s prescription twenty minutes later, she was still standing there arguing with the pharmacist. And the pharmacist kept his cool and composure the entire time. I would have lost my s*** after ten minutes.)

(I am working a shift from four to twelve in an all-night coffee shop. The leading chain coffee shop across the street has just closed. Two girls walk in with [Chain] cups and sit down. I give them five minutes to see if they’re going to throw out their cups or order food or something. When they don’t, I head over to their table.)

Me: “Hey, ladies, it’s counter order, so if you’d like anything tonight, stop by the counter and we’ll help you out.”

Girl #1: “Oh, no, we’re good.”

Me: “Well, unfortunately, if you’re not going to order something I’m going to have to ask you to leave. It’s company policy.”

Girl #2: “But, like, we already have drinks.” *gestures to their cups.*

Me: “Yeah, but unless you’re ordering something from me, you can’t be here. If you were to buy a pastry or something, I’d offer to put those drinks in our cups, but if you’re not getting anything from me, you have to leave.”

Girl #1: “But you’re the same thing.”

Me: “Uh, no. We’re [Our Shop] and those are from [Chain].”

Girl #2: “Uh, yeah?”

Me: “They’re our competition.”

Girl #1: “So? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Me: “That we’re competing for who you buy your coffee from.”

Girl #1: “So? You both sell coffee.”

Me: “Yes… that’s why we’re competing. Directly. For your money.”

Girl #2: “I don’t get it.”

Me: *sighs* “Look, we’re [Our Shop], and you bought your coffee from [Chain]. If you’re not going to spend any money at [Our Shop], you have to leave.”

Girl #2: “But you’re the same.”

Me: *resists the urge to flip tables* “No. They’re our competition. You bought your drinks from them, which means you can’t sit in here.”

Girl #2: “But they’re closed and we can’t sit there.”

Me: “And you can’t sit here unless you buy something from me.”

Girl #1: “Well, we already have our drinks.”

Me: “Then you’re going to have to go. You can’t sit in my shop with drinks from another shop.”

(They get up, giving me the dirtiest looks imaginable, and walk outside… only to sit right down at one of my outdoor tables.)

Me: *leaning out the door* “That’s part of my shop, too, ladies.”

(I’m a young waitress in a cafe. Most of our staff are girls, excluding one coworker and our manager. We have just had a very busy spell and I head to my manager.)

Me: “[Manager], I need to use the bathroom.”

Manager: “Can’t you hold it? We’re still pretty busy.”

Me: “No, I really can’t hold it. I’m going to the bathroom.”

Manager: “Well, could you warn me next time?”

Me: “Well, sure, [Manager], I’ll warn you next time my period is due, shall I?”

(He left red-faced and with nothing to say in response.)

(I walk over to ring up a waiting customer. We have three registers, and I’m on the middle drawer. He’s standing in front of the first register. When I greet him, a woman that I didn’t even know was there pops out from behind him and cuts ahead to my register with a cheery, oblivious attitude. I assume that maybe this was intentional, so I proceed as normal.)

Me: “Hi, ma’am, what did you get today?”

Male Customer: “What about me?”

Female Customer: “Oh! I’m sorry, go on ahead!”

(The man glares at me while telling sarcastically telling the woman it’s fine and to go on ahead. As I’m taking care of her order, the man talks to me.)

Male Customer: “So, why’d you skip over me?”

Me: “I… I didn’t, sir.”

Male Customer: “I was over here. Why can’t you use this register over here?”

Me: “I can only ring on the register that’s assigned to me.”

Male Customer: “So, I have to walk over there if I want to get rung up?”

(The difference is less than a foot of space and I’ve rung plenty of people up who didn’t want to move physically in front of my register.)

Me: “You can stand wherever you want, sir.”

Male Customer: “Well, then, I just don’t see why I was skipped over.”

(The woman’s order is done and she walks away. The man gathers his things and steps in front of my register.)

Me: “Sir, I’m not sure why that woman cut you in line. I looked at you and called you over; I never even saw that woman.”

(The man didn’t seem to care. He was grumpy the rest of his transaction, even though I attempted to be positive and friendly.)