(I don’t have a car and my family lives next to an airport. When I am going to school, I often use an airport shuttle to get to and from my house in between breaks to save my parents time. My mom mentions paying for a shuttle I’ve never used, but she often gets confused so I am calling to make a reservation.)

Me: “Hi.”

Woman: “What can I help you with?”

Me: “I’m not sure, but I think I have a credit from before. If not, I can pay ,but I just want to—”

Woman: “Okay. Well, do you actually have your confirmation number?”

Me: “I don’t think—”

Woman: “Or a phone number?”

Me: “I’m not sure if my mom used my phone number or hers but here’s mine: [number].”

Woman: “Okay, but do you actually have a date?”

Me: “I thought you could use my phone number?”

Woman: *starting to use a baby voice* “Ma’am, I am just trying to find your reservation but I don’t have your confirmation number.”

Me: “I know I don’t have all the information you want, but there’s no reason for you to be so sarcastic. I’m giving you the alternate information you asked for.”

Woman: *higher-pitched baby voice* “I don’t know what you mean? I’m just trying to help you.”

Me: “What’s your name?”

Woman: *in racist accent* “Juan. Pablo. Tim.”

Me: “What is your name?”

Woman: “Oscar the Grouch.”

Me: “When do you stop working? I really don’t want to talk to you anymore and want to call back later and talk to someone else.”

(I now realize that could sound like I wanted to wait for her in the parking lot, but spending any time near her is the furthest thing from my mind.)

Woman: “I’m just trying to help you, ma’am.”

Me: “Can you just check to see if I have a credit?”

Woman: “You didn’t give me the date.”

Me: “It would be my most recent trip.”

Woman: *voice suddenly becoming conversational* “Oh, you know. This system is so crappy and old I just get frustrated.”

Me: “Why were you angry?”

Woman: “Oh, well, people lie all the time to get free rides. I wasn’t even looking any of your information up. Honestly, I was just trying to make you go away.”

Me: “…”

Woman: “What was the phone number again?”

This story is part of the grouch day roundup!

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(Friday, we were closed due to a blizzard. We open back up at our normal time on Saturday since the roads are finally clear. I am running the register when an older gentleman walks up.)

Me: “Hi, sir! How are you?” *rings up his items*

Customer: “Honestly, I’m pissed off!”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry.”

Customer: “Yeah, you should be. You all were closed yesterday!”

Me: “Well, sir, it was due to bad weather.”

Customer: “I really needed this stuff. I waited outside for 20 minutes but you never opened!”

(I look over in his bag and noticed all he bought was a soda and a large can of tomato juice.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. Next time, we will risk our employees’ lives on icy roads just so you can get one can of tomato juice! I mean, who cares if someone wrecks and dies?!”

Customer: “Well… never mind!”

(He paid for his stuff and ran out the door… forgetting to grab his oh-so-important merchandise!)

This story is part of our Chilly Weather Roundup!

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(I’m a girl and I run a brake shop. People call, I diagnose the issue, give them a quote, set appointments, and order parts. You could say I know a lot about brakes but something like this happens at least once a month.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Brake Shop]; this is [My Name].”

Male Caller: “Hi, honey. I need a quote on a brake job. Do you need to transfer me to somebody else?”

Me: “No, I can handle your quote.”

Male Caller: “Great! I just love a woman who knows her brakes.”

Me: “And I just love a man that can be condescending and sexist in one sentence.” *click*

(I am second in line at a coffee shop counter.)

Customer: “Can I please get a plain coffee, medium?”

Barista: “Sure, that’ll be [low amount].”

(The customer moves over and I am next.)

Me: “Medium pumpkin spice latte.”

(The barista takes my $5 or so and I move over with the first customer. She is standing really close to the place where the barista drops off the drink, hovering over the counter. I stand farther back to allow people to move between us to get to the seating area. Several minutes go by and the girl ahead of me leaves with a drink. I wait longer, noticing people behind me are getting their drinks before me.)

Me: *to the barista making coffees* “Hello, I was wondering if you’ve made a medium pumpkin spice latte yet? I’ve been waiting for almost ten minutes.”

Barista #2: “Yes, I put that out a while ago. Is this drink not yours?”

(He gestured to the counter where a plain coffee was sitting. Apparently, that girl deliberately ordered a cheap drink and stole the more expensive one when it came up so she didn’t have to pay full price.)

This story is part of our Pumpkin Spice roundup!

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(My friend is running a cash register in the express queue. There are usually at least two very clear signs posted about how many items you can bring into the queue. Normally we don’t say anything unless it’s busy or someone is way over the limit. We aren’t allowed to kick them out of line, but we have to tell them at the end of the order that they aren’t supposed to come through the queue. My friend is ringing through someone who has way too many items.)

Friend: “There you go! And just so you’re aware, this is the express lane, and we reserve this line-up for people with 12 items or fewer.”

Customer: *angrily* “Well, I didn’t know.”

Friend: “That’s fine, but we do have signs posted at the entrance to the line-up to let people know.”

Customer: *condescendingly* “Well, I’m American.”

Friend: *wide-eyed* “Oh, my god. I didn’t realise the education system in the US was so bad! They don’t teach you to read?”

Customer: *flustered* “I thought Canadians were supposed to be nice!”

Friend: *cheerily* “Nope! We’re supposed to be polite. Have a nice day!”

(The customer didn’t say another word.)