(I’m working at the mall to pay for my college, I’m at the end of a long shift and it being the week before Christmas, I’ve had multiple customers come in not sure of what they want.)

Customer: “Hello, I’m Christmas shopping for my grandson. He said he will only wear his jeans from here. But do you have any that aren’t used?”

Me: *since all of our jeans are brand new and we’re a higher-end store I’m confused by her question* “I’m sorry, used?”

Customer: “Yes, the tag says used right above the price on his size jean. Do you have any that aren’t used?”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry but all of our jeans are brand new. Despite some customers trying them on, none of them are used.”

Customer: “THE TAG SAYS USED! USED! COME WITH ME, STUPID GIRL!”

(She takes my arm and drags me to where some jeans are hanging up.)

Me: “Ma’am, can you please let go of my arm?”

Customer: “NO! Not until you see how stupid you are!” *by now we’re at the jeans* “See look! Used!”

Me: *reading the tag that says USD on it — all of our tags have this above the price* “Ma’am, that says USD, meaning U.S. dollars. Our company also has places in Canada; therefore, the tags are marked with U.S. dollars to avoid confusion.”

Customer: “I’m a well-educated woman. I can read, and these jeans say they are USED! GET ME YOUR MANAGER!”

(My manager, having viewed the whole transaction between me and the irate woman, comes over.)

Manager: “What seems to be the problem?”

Customer: “Your stupid employee won’t show me where the new jeans are! These are USED!”

Manager: “I’m sorry, [My Name] isn’t very smart.” *to me* “Go help someone else.”

(My manager then explains to the customer the EXACT same thing I had told her. She finally seems to get it, they have a pleasant interaction, and the woman purchases two pairs of jeans and some shirts. I have the unfortunate pleasure of ringing her up.)

Customer: “You should really be re-trained. Your manager explained how you don’t listen well and don’t understand anything about store policy. Now, be sure you ring me up right.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “You should be.”

(The kicker about the whole thing: I got written up for poor work ethic, and my manager had me completely re-trained. I’d been working there for three years at that time. I quit shortly after that.)

I’m on a well-known bus line, getting ready to visit family for the holidays. The bus has a rule requesting that passengers set their phones to silent or, at the very least, vibrate. One woman on the bus apparently didn’t get that memo. The ringer on her phone was loud enough to wake me up, and the ringtone she had was “The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Don’t Be Late).”

To make matters worse, someone kept calling her every five minutes or so. By the end of my trip, I got off the bus with a really bad eye twitch and a newfound hatred for Alvin and the Chipmunks.

(My boyfriend and I are laying in bed one day after spending the day together and I am having fairly bad cramps, as my period has just started. I reach over and put his hand on my stomach where I’m cramping to somewhat comfort me.)

Boyfriend: “Hey, that’s where a baby would be!”

Me: “Yeah, well, that’s where it hurts…”

Boyfriend: *with look of confusion on his face* “Oh! Hmm… I guess that makes sense.”

(One day during lunch I’m serving a group of about a dozen, and as I’m taking everyone’s drink orders, it becomes clear from the conversations that this is a business lunch. As I’m making my lap around the table getting each person’s food order, this happens:)

Woman #1: “I’ll have a small specialty pizza, please.”

(I see a couple of people moving around, changing seats, so I decide to ask to keep myself organized before it gets to be confusing.)

Me: “Oh, will this be all separate checks or one bill?”

Man #1: “Oh, it’ll all be on one. I’ve got it this time.”

Woman #2: “Oh, you don’t have to do that!”

Man #2: “Yeah, we can all get our own! That’s too nice.”

Man #1: “Don’t worry about it, everyone. It’s nothing.”

Me: “All right, sounds good to me.” *as I’m about to move on, [Woman #1] pulls me back to her*

Woman #1: “Actually, if that’s the case, can you make mine a large pizza, instead? I’ll just take some extra home later. Also, an order of wings… for the table.”

(I was secretly very glad she wasn’t in charge of paying the bill or the tip, since she seemed pretty cheap. I just can’t believe she changed her order so blatantly in front of everyone.)

“(I’m in a cashier’s line behind two others, [Customer #1] is a woman on her phone who looks like she’s in a hurry, buying frozen TV dinners. [Customer #2] is an older woman who appears to have nothing to purchase.)

Cashier: “That’ll be [total], please.”

Customer #1: *on the phone* “Yeah, yeah, I’ll have 15 minutes to get there.” *to cashier* “Thanks.”

(Just as she’s bagging, [Customer #2] interjects.)

Customer #2: “How could you do that to yourself?!”

Customer #1: “Excuse me?”

Customer #2: “Those food trays! Do you know how many horrible chemicals are in those? So many preservatives! They’ll kill you!”

(The bagger starts helping her bag faster.)

Customer #2: “How can people eat that stuff? I would never poison myself like that.”

([Customer #1] rolls her eyes and leaves.)

Cashier: “How can I help you?”

Customer #2: “Three packs of [Cigarettes] and a bottle of tequila, please.”