(I’ve just clocked out and left the back room, which is behind the deli counter. I’m still wearing my uniform, but my jacket is over it and my name tag is off. An old man near the counter immediately starts yelling at me.)

Old Man: “Finally! I’ve been waiting for someone to serve me for ten minutes! Where do you think you’re going?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m off the clock.”

Old Man: *sarcastically* “Well, good for you! You work here; you have to serve me!”

Me: *smiling as sweetly as I can* “Well, sir, it’s entirely illegal for me to work while off the clock. In fact, I could be fired for doing so. I may even get in trouble if I continue talking to you, I think. Bye, now.”

(I walked out the door. I probably would have taken a moment to find one of my coworkers for the guy if he’d been mildly polite.)

(I have been on a call with an angry customer who lost his previous mobile number when moving networks, because he didn’t request the PAC number. I have been trying to tell him that, as his current network, we are unable to do anything without the number. I have been on the call for nearly half an hour, and he has been growing steadily in hostility, when out of nowhere he stops mid-sentence. I hear some ruffling.)

Woman: “Thank you very much for your help.”

Me: “Oh, uh, no problem?”

Woman: “I’m going to end the call now—“

Man: *shouting* “YOU’RE F****** NOT. I WANT MY NUMBER BACK!”

Woman: “SHUT IT! YOU ONLY WANT IT BECAUSE IT HAS ‘BOOB’ IN IT!” *to me* “Thank you, ever so much.” *hangs up*

(I have a cocker spaniel with a lot of allergies and a skin condition that makes her very itchy. Her regular vet prescribes allergy shots for her. A few times we don’t get to see him but a newly-graduated vet who is working there temporarily. All she does every appointment is to try to refer us to specialists. She does this so much that we are starting to think she is getting kickbacks from them. One time, we get her when we are there for my dog’s allergy shot.)

Vet: “She’s just itchy because she has fleas.”

Mom & Me: “No, she doesn’t.”

Me: “I just checked her this morning. No fleas. And she’s had a bath.”

Vet: *rolling her eyes* “It’s just fleas. She doesn’t need an allergy shot.”

Mom: “Dr. [Regular Vet] prescribed them. We want her allergy shot.”

(We watch as a flea crawling on the vet herself jumps from her to my dog. The vet only sees the flea now.)

Vet: “I told you she had fleas!”

Mom: “We saw that flea crawling on you! Now, we want her allergy shot.”

(The vet continued to argue and tried once again to send us to a specialist, but we finally got the shot, only after a lot of huffing. Mom complained to the regular vet as soon as he was free and told him how this one was always trying to send us to specialists. He seemed rather angry with her when he heard this. We never saw her there again.)

(Our card reader does take chip cards, but it’s a very persnickety thing and if you do things in the wrong order, it will either ignore you completely or force you to start over.)

Me: “Okay, ma’am, before you chip it, just confirm the amount—“

Customer: “I know how to do it!”

(She jams her card into the chip reader. It gives an angry buzzing noise.)

Me: “Okay, ma’am, please take your card out of the chip reader and press the green circle on the screen.”

(Ignoring me, she jams the green circle on the keypad.)

Me: “Ma’am, you have to take your card out, press the circle on the screen, and put the card back in.”

Customer: “I know how to do it!”

(She jabs the circle on the screen but doesn’t take her card out. The reader proceeds to ignore her card in the slot and instructs her to swipe or chip her card.)

Customer: “Why does it say to swipe or chip?! It’s already in there!”

Me: “Ma’am, this machine is very persnickety. You need to take your card out and start over.”

Customer: “No, I don’t! I know how to use these things!”

(The card reader times out, meaning we now have to start over. I press the appropriate buttons.)

Me: “Take your card out and press the green circle on the screen. Then put your card back in.”

(The woman pulls her card out, then jams it back in before pressing the green circle. Since she didn’t press the green circle first, the machine buzzes at her.)

Customer: “Why is this so hard? I know how to use these things!”

Me: *annoyed* “Ma’am, please listen to the instructions–“

Customer: “This is bulls***! You do it, then!”

(She throws her card down on the counter. I sigh, turn the scanner toward me, and press the green button. It chimes happily and I put her card in. In seconds, her card is authorized and I take her card out and hand it to her.)

Me: “Now you just need to sign using the stylus and press the green circle on the screen again…”

(She jabs the screen viciously with her finger and rubs back and forth.)

Customer: “Why isn’t it working?!”

Store Manager: *who has been nearby, watching* “Because you can’t seem to follow directions. Use. The. Stylus. And press the green circle on the screen.”

(The woman finally grabs the stylus, scribbles incomprehensibly on the screen, and jams the stylus back into its holder. I sigh and pick up the stylus, pressing the green button. The persnickety machine is finally happy; it chimes again and the woman’s receipt prints up.)

Customer: “I know how to use these things!”

Me & Store Manager: *as she flounces out* “No… You clearly don’t.”

(My sister and I are a few years apart but we are both in high school. There is a pair of twins that go to school with us. My sister is reading a book on an app that has a pair of twins, as well. One is named the same as one of the real-life twins. In the story, [Twin] was in an accident and was in a coma.)

Sister: *sounding honestly distressed* “[My Name]! [Twin] was in an accident!”

Me: “What? When?”

Sister: “He was in an accident and now he’s in a coma!”

Me: *jerking up* “Is he going to be okay?!”

Mother: *entering the conversation* “What happened?”

Sister: “[Twin], one of the twins from my book is in a coma and everyone is blaming [Main Character]!”

(I stop for a second.)

Me: “You nutter! I thought you were talking about the one at our school! I may hate him, but Jesus. Don’t scare me like that! Be more specific next time.”

Sister: “Sorry.”