I am currently apartment hunting, but it has been a long and time-consuming project trying to find something within my budget. I only have two requirements: it must allow my cat, and it must have a balcony I can grow food on. I don’t think that’s insane criteria, but in my city, it sometimes seems like it is.

I found one unit that was slightly above my budget. It was tiny and ugly, and it would mean almost an extra hour on the bus to visit my girlfriend or my doctors, and I knew the layout would make me want to scream within weeks. But it allowed cats, and the ad had several pictures of a balcony large enough to support enough of a garden to make gardening worth it, so I figured I could make it work. I fired off the email I had tailored to introduce myself and explain what I was looking for, and after a couple of days of chasing them down, I finally set up a time to view it.

The day arrives. From the outside, the building is in a nice quiet area, close to stores, and would even have something that could be considered a half-decent view. I’m starting to feel better about potentially living here — excited, even. I meet the landlady, and we head upstairs to the apartment.

She unlocks the door, and the first thing I notice is… there’s no balcony.

I stare at her.

Me: “There’s no balcony.”

Landlady: “That’s correct.”

Me: “I specifically told you I was looking for a balcony.”

Landlady: “Well, I never said there was a balcony!”

I turned around and walked out without another word. I still have no idea what the h*** she thought was going to happen.

I’m also baffled by the builder that would bother putting balconies on a building, but only for half the units.

I keep getting a lot of scam calls. Lately, it’s been the Medicare and insurance scammers. As they are going into their monologue, I interrupt them.

Me: *In a very monotone voice* “Name, please.”

Scammer: “Oh, it’s [Scammer], and I—”

Me: “Business name, please.”

Scammer: “I’m calling from the Medicare office to make sure you—”

Me: “Account number, please.”

Scammer: “Ummm… what?”

Me: *In a more aggravated tone* “I need your account number, please.”

Scammer: “Oh, no, I’m calling to—”

Me: “I cannot assist you without your account number. You know that by now. What is it?”

Scammer: “Ummm, no, I’m—”

Me: “WHAT IS YOUR ACCOUNT NUMBER? I will not assist you without it. Do you need a moment to find it or do you need to call back?”

This is usually the point they hang up. If they don’t, I keep interrupting them, demanding an account number. I have a recording of hold music for the next one that doesn’t. I plan on telling them I will give them a moment to find their account number and putting the music on. I am curious to see how long they will stay on the line before hanging up.

One of my earliest jobs was working the checkout and floor in a branch of a popular DIY and homewares store in the UK. We had a pretty lax policy on returns: if the customer had a receipt, then they could return any goods for any reason within thirty days provided that they were in resellable condition. If customers were outside of that window or didn’t have their receipt, they could exchange the goods for a store credit for the lowest price within the last thirty days at the time of the return.

Some “customers” were notorious for scamming us on this policy. One family in particular would regularly wait for the shop to get busy, take an expensive item off the shelf when nobody was looking, and then “return it” at the customer service desk for a store credit. Everybody knew they did this, so I never did understand why they were allowed to get away with it.

I had given the shop my notice and was on one of my last days when I saw the scammers enter the shop empty-handed. I thought, “Screw it,” turned off my checkout, and followed them through the store at a discreet distance.

After watching them take a large boxed item from a shelf and then join the queue for the customer service desk, I swiftly moved over and had a hushed conversation with my colleague running it.

Me: “[Coworker], you have that family who keeps scamming us in the queue. I watched them take that box off the shelf; do not return it for them.”

Coworker: *Looking a bit worried* “Oh, okay. Can you go let the manager know that we need them, please?”

I quickly walked off and found the manager in their office and brought them up to speed on what was happening.

Manager: “Okay, thanks, [My Name]. I’m going to review the cameras for the last twenty minutes and confirm what you said.”

Me: “Okay, do you want me to tell [Coworker] to ask them to wait, or will you call them?”

Manager: “No, do nothing. I want to check the footage first.”

Me: “There were only two people ahead of them in the queue when I left. They might already be getting served now! I told you, I literally followed them. I am a witness to them stealing and I am happy to tell the police that. Can’t you check the footage afterward?”

Manager: “No, I need to do it now. Also, it’s getting busy; you should be on a checkout. Go back and start serving customers again.”

Me: “Well, okay, I’ll leave it with you.”

I left the office and started serving customers again as instructed. After about twenty minutes, it was the end of my shift, so I got ready to go and stopped by the customer service desk to find out what happened.

Me: “Hey, [Coworker], did we finally get those scammers, then?”

Coworker: “No, I processed their return.”

Me: “What?! Why?!”

Coworker: “Well, I never heard back from the manager until a few minutes ago. You were right; they didn’t come in with that box. But what else could I do? They were right in front of me asking for the return! I couldn’t say no without evidence!”

Me: “Yes, you could have! I was the evidence. I told you and [Manager] that I literally watched them take it off a shelf. How was that not enough?!”

As [Coworker] was getting upset I just said my goodbyes and left for the night. During my next and final shift, my manager told me that they watched the footage and I was right; they definitely had scammed us. Imagine my shock.

Customer: “I have a coupon for a free iPad.”

The customer hands over an obviously fake coupon. The fine print says: “Guaranteed and payable by Bill Gates.”

Me: “Why would Bill Gates pay for an Apple product?”

The customer realized their blunder and quickly left!

About an hour or so before we close, a girl comes in and starts looking at our small animals.

Me: “Do you need any help?”

She starts to tell me about her boyfriend’s snake.

Customer: “I need to buy feeder mice for it.”

We have mice in stock, but they aren’t intended as food; they’re being sold as pets. I explain this to her and suggest she try one of the larger retailers in the area or a rodent specialty store.

She looks at me blankly for a moment.

Customer: “Yeah, I just want to buy some of these mice here.”

The conversation just goes downhill from there.

Me: “I thought you were looking for feeder mice.”

Customer: “I am.”

Me: “Well, those aren’t food. They’re pets. You’ll have to go to another store to get feeder mice.”

Customer: “These are mice, aren’t they? Why can’t I just feed these to my snake?”

Me: “Because we don’t sell our small mammals for food.”

Customer: “Well, fine, then. I want to buy some of these mice as pets.”

Me: “Um, you already told me you’re planning on feeding them to your snake.”

Customer: “Yeah, but if I hadn’t told you that, you’d have just sold me the mice. So just forget I said that.”

Me: “Sorry. I’m not selling you any mice.”

I walk back up to the front and hang out where I have a clear view of her while I wait for more customers to come in. The assistant manager has heard part of the conversation and commends me for not selling her the mice.

I realize snakes have to eat, too, and some snakes eat mice. We just have a store policy that we don’t send any of our mammals home with a customer unless we feel like it’s the right home for them; a home where they’re going to be fed to another animal isn’t exactly a safe environment.

I keep watching this lady and she’s still hanging around the mice, watching my every move. Any time I turn my head to greet a customer and look back, she has her hands on the mouse cage and will pull them away when she sees me watching her. Great… another thief-to-be.

My awesome assistant manager has gone into the back to finish up the day’s paperwork before we close, so it’s just me and one of the new salesgirls. I pull her aside (where I can still see Snake Girl) and point her out, explaining the situation and my suspicions.

After that, either one or both of us have our eyes locked on her wherever she goes in the store. Finally, she ends up by the gerbils… which are in an open-top glass enclosure. She keeps reaching into the enclosure, “playing” with the gerbils, watching us closely.

After about ten minutes, she gives up and leaves, only to return with her boyfriend, who corners me and starts asking me if mice make good pets because he’s thinking of getting a couple.

I motion for the new salesgirl to keep an eye on Snake Girl, while I explain to this man:

Me: “Your girlfriend already told us that you are planning to feed the mice to your snake, and our mice are not food.”

Customer’s Boyfriend: “That’s not my girlfriend!”

I hear a commotion by the gerbils. Apparently, Snake Girl has picked one up and is yelling at the new salesgirl for telling her to put it down.

Me: “You’ll have to leave since we won’t be selling you anything tonight.”

And wouldn’t you know, she and her boyfriend came back the next day and tried to buy the mice from a couple of my coworkers. Fortunately, they’d already heard the story and a description of the couple, so she didn’t have any luck with them, either.