(On the phone:)

Customer: “Do you carry [Brand]?”

Me: “I’m not sure off the top of my head. May I put you on hold and go check?”

Customer: “Fine.”

(I see we have [Brand], and anticipating the usual follow-up questions, I jot down some of the different products and prices.)

Me: “Yes, ma’am, we carry [Brand]. Some of their products are: cleanser, daytime moisturizer, and nighttime moisturizer.”

(I also provide each price.)

Customer: “The moisturizer, how many grams is that?”

Me: “I’m not sure, but—”

Customer: *cuts me off* “What? You didn’t read it?! I want that product; I want you to bring it to the counter for me. What are the grams?”

Me: “Ma’am, you simply asked if we carry [Brand]. I can put you back on hold and check.”

(I go pick out a day moisturizer because she didn’t specify, and at this point I kind of don’t care.)

Me: “It says 30 ml, so one fluid ounce.”

Customer: “Grams! I want to know the grams!”

Me: “This product isn’t measured in grams; it’s measured in milliliters. Again, it says 30 ml.”

Customer: “Tell me the grams!“

Me: “Ma’am, it isn’t measured in grams; I’m not sure what you’re asking for.”

Customer: “Grams, like for your face. For the sun!“

Me: “SPF?”

Customer: “Yes, SPF!”

(You could practically hear her roll her eyes, as if she had been saying that the whole time and couldn’t understand how I was so stupid for not knowing that when she said, “Gram,” she really meant, “SPF.”)

Me: “30. The SPF is 30.”

(She then instructed me to take that to the pharmacy where she would pick it up. When I told the pharmacy who it was for they laughed and asked if I wanted to stick around to meet this gem.)

(Not long after having my first baby, I am visiting with my cousin, who has two children of his own. My husband and I ask about local motels in the area to stay overnight in, and my cousin invites us to stay with his family. We are unloading so much luggage out of the car.)

Me: “I’m sorry there’s so much; we had to bring a lot more than normal because of [Baby].”

Cousin: *laughing* “You don’t need to apologise to me; I’m a parent, too.” *more serious* “I was an absolute a**hole to my friends when they had babies; I kept telling them that they shouldn’t let the babies run their lives. I would let them have it whenever they told me they couldn’t go out with me or go partying because the baby was sick or too tired. After we had [First Daughter], I went around to each of them and apologised for being such a d**k to them.”

(We card for ALL tobacco purchases. It doesn’t matter how old you look, if we have seen you every day for the past year, or if you are an employee of the store; we still have to see ID.)

Customer: “I’d like a pack of [Brand].”

Cashier: “Sure thing. I just need to see your ID, please.”

Customer: *pulls out ID*

Cashier: “I’m sorry, but this ID is expired; I can’t accept this. It has to be a valid—”

Customer’s Wife: “What?! This is ridiculous! All you said was you needed to see his ID; you never said it had to be valid!”

(My cashier yells for me to come up to cancel the cigarette purchase.)

Customer’s Wife: “I just can’t believe this! All you said was you needed to see his ID! You never said it had to be valid! No one else cares! Every other store accepts it!”

Cashier: “I’m sorry, but if a police officer were to come in and see me accepting an expired ID, I could get into a lot of trouble—”

Customer’s Wife: “THIS IS JUST SO STUPID!”

(The customer finally finishes paying for his other purchases, and they start to leave.)

Customer’s Wife: “I am going to call and speak to a manager over her—” *pointing to me* “—about this! You never said it had to be a valid ID!”

(What was supposed to be a slow, peaceful night shift has turned hellish. A woman is assaulted in our elevator, and as the police are wrapping that up, two women run in frantically because their friend who is staying with us is trying to commit suicide in her room. By the end of the night I’m exhausted from dealing with police and EMS, and I just want to go home. This is the first call I get when people start waking up in the morning:)

Me: “Guest Services. [My Name] speaking; how can I help you?”

Guest: “What are your breakfast hours?”

Me: “[Times].”

Guest: “Okay… also, I have just, um… a ‘comment.'”

Me: *already knowing she really means “complaint”* “Oh?”

Guest: “Yes, well, when I got to my room last night, there was only one washcloth, and we needed two.”

(I can’t even respond for a second, as I would have been so beyond caring about even a legitimate complaint, never mind one this inane.)

Me: “Well, I’m sorry about that. Do you want me to have someone bring you another?”

Guest: “Well, we don’t need it now. We needed it last night. I just thought there ought to have been two when we got here.”

(There is an expectant pause. I will give discounts for a lot of things, but being too dumb to call and ask for a washcloth when you need one is not one of them.)

Me: “Well, I’m sorry about that, ma’am. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you today; have a good morning!” *click*

(At least when I repeated the interaction to my manager, I got to hear her response: “Well, if you needed it so badly, you should have called and asked for it, you dumb b****.”)

(I work in a sandwich shop. There are a bunch of people who are regulars to the store and order the same sandwich everyday, every single time they came in. The only problem is, I am new and don’t know these people OR their orders. A customer comes into the shop and stands at the glass partition. I stare at him through the glass, waiting for him to begin his order. Often when people come into the shop, they start their order without acknowledgement, making the workers rush to remember everything they’re saying in their order. After about two minutes of him staring at me, I decide to speak up.)

Me: “Welcome to [Sandwich Shop]. What bread would you like to start with today?”

Customer: “I come here every single day; you don’t know what my sandwich is by now?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, I’m a new employee. If you tell me how you like your sandwich, I’ll be sure to remember for when you come in next time.” *forced grin*

Customer: “Ugh! Can’t you just get one of the other workers from the back, then? How about the [race] girl? She knows me.”

Me: “Sure.”

(I go to the back and find the worker he is asking for, and she laughs saying something along the lines of, “Oh, I know him. Yeah, he’s here every day.” She then goes out to make his sandwich, chatting with him the whole time and laughing it up while I stand at the register. When is finished, he comes to the register and stares at me again.)

Me: “What sandwich did you order, sir?”

Customer: “What?”

Me: “The sandwich that she made? What sandwich was it, so I can ring it up?”

Customer: *glares at me* “Are you f****** kidding me?”

(Without missing a beat, the other worker came in and rang him up, saving me from getting yelled at, and shook her head at me while saying, “You really need to work on your customer service.”)