(I work for an online company and help those who sell on the website. This includes taking phone calls and answering emails. I get a gem of a phone call one morning.)

Customer: “My verification isn’t going through. I’ve called in about every day for the last two weeks.”

(Those who want to sell on the website have to go through an identity verification that includes a copy of their driver’s license. It’s not much different than an employer asking for it. Plus, in the shady market of online selling, it’s best to make extra certain.)

Me: “Okay. Let me pull up your case to take a look at any notes those associates may have. I can’t see the documentation as I don’t have permission to see it.”

Customer: “I’ve already attached it to the case. Also, they keep responding in French and the last response said I can’t sell on the website.”

(I find this a little odd, as this team isn’t the one to tell people they can’t sell here anymore, but I look into the case. The customer is being responded to in French and has received a notice saying he can’t sell. Usually, if the verification doesn’t go through, it has something to do with another document they sent us. For example, if we can click and highlight anything on a PDF, we immediately reject it as not being genuine. I find nothing wrong with that document. I pull up the driver’s license and have to do a double-take. The picture for the ID matches that of Justin Bieber. This guy sounds twice the age of Justin Bieber. I put the customer on hold to “look into things.” I get the help of a coworker and we end up finding a website teaching you how to fake a Quebec driver’s license. The picture is that of Justin Bieber. After I decide what to do, I get back on the phone.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but we can’t accept this as a valid form of ID.”

Customer: “What do you mean?”

(He must really think I’m stupid.)

Me: “It’s a picture of Justin Bieber.”

Customer: *click*

I’m talking to my sister about computers. Recently, our grandpa bought a new computer and needed help setting it up. He was surprised when my very tech-savvy sister offered to help. Upon setting up his computer, she found he had been sold a bunch of add-on programs that my sister could have downloaded legitimate open-source copies of for free.

He also happened to show her the receipt. On the receipt, there was a £20 charge for “tablet set-up.” My grandpa doesn’t own a tablet, and the store didn’t offer computer set-ups, so this was quite obviously the store hoping he wouldn’t notice.

Upon noticing when he got home, he rang up the national helpline for this store and demanded a refund for a service he had never received. In the end, after much arguing, the helpline agreed to refund his card manually — they tried to say that it could only be done if my grandpa took the 40-minute drive to the store and they refunded him at the till. In the end, my sister decided not to tell him that they had also scammed him in terms of the add-on programs he had been sold. Regardless, my grandpa has vowed never to shop there again and to ask for my sister’s advice the next time he needs computer help!

(I work in a small cinema in Bristol. Due to the release of a new horror movie, lots of people have been coming to watch it. I’ve just dealt with a large group when a girl who seems about twelve comes in, wearing a ton of blusher, deep red lipstick, and messy eyeliner.)

Me: “Oh, hello!” *smiles* “Can I ask what you are seeing today?”

Girl: “Oh, hi there! My girlfriends and I just had frozen yogurt and were bored. I think I’ll see… uh…” *pretends to make a big deal out of this* “Maybe… [Horror Movie]!”

Me: “Well, good choice, but can I see your ID, please?”

Girl: “Uh, what?”

Me: “Well, you must’ve realized that this film is rated eighteen and over, right?”

Girl: “Well, uh, I am eighteen!”

Me: “Sorry, kid, you have to be eighteen to watch this. Maybe you want to watch [Other PG Movies]?”

Girl: “NO! THOSE SUCK!”

(She screams and kicks a popcorn machine in the back of the cinema, and then, when she presses something, popcorn pours out all over the floor.)

Me: “If you don’t leave now, I’m going to call your parents.”

Girl: “F*** you!”

(She runs out, and for a moment it completely silent, and then her mother storms in with her child.)

Girl: “She won’t let me see [Movie]!”

Mother: *glares at me* “Why not?”

Me: “Ma’am, your child has destroyed our popcorn, verbally abused me, and faked her age. All I asked was for her ID, and when she failed to produce that, I gave her other options.”

Mother: “Really? Well, come along now, [Girl]. You’re grounded! Say sorry to the nice lady… now!”

Girl: “I’m sorry…”

(As they walked out, I hear the girl saying, “You stupid b****!” I didn’t mind, though, when the popcorn was restocked and cleared up, and the manager gave me and every other worker in the cinema a free bag of popcorn. I was the most popular person in the cinema! Also, the girl and her mother never came back — double win!)

This story is part of our Scary Movies roundup!

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Read the Scary Movies roundup!

(Back in the late 90s, I work as a bike security guard at a shopping center. Mostly we are there to watch for people trying to break into cars, prevent people from drinking alcohol in the parking lot before their movie, deal with traffic problems, and just always be moving and visible to deter other types of bad activity. One night, my supervisor and I are doing our hourly check of the back of the buildings when we see a young lady and a young man, probably teens, walking in the shadows. We pull up to them.)

Supervisor: “Hey, guys, you can’t be back here. It’s not safe at night. Is everything okay?”

Girl: “We’re fine. My boyfriend’s car broke down up by the entrance so he walked down here to get me from work. I’m a waitress at [Restaurant]. We’re just walking back to his car; my dad’s on the way.”

(They don’t stop walking and won’t look us in the eye. I also notice she still has her apron on and is holding it with her hands. After a quick glance, I speed up and pull ahead of them far enough to radio another guard to check with the restaurant. My supervisor keeps trying to talk to them.)

Supervisor: “Why are you walking behind the buildings? It’s safer out front, better lit, and less chance a car comes around a dumpster and hits you on a sidewalk.”

Girl: “Oh, there are too many people out front. It’s nice and quiet back here.”

Boy: “I thought it was kind of romantic.” *as they walk by an overflowing dumpster*

Guard #3: *on the radio, quietly* “Keep an eye on them; the police are on the way. She walked out with her entire bank and several credit cards.”

(I started riding left to right and slowing down a bit, signalling an issue to my supervisor. He tried to engage them even more in conversation, asking their names, asking if he could phone someone for them or if they needed a tow truck, etc. The girl just kept walking and avoiding eye contact. Headlights showed around the corner of the building along with red and blue flashing lights, and the girl made a break for it, running toward a cut-through between buildings. I got there first and blocked her path with my bike and myself. She tried to flail at me and grabbed at the bike, but I blocked her. The boy tried to run into the woods behind the center but my supervisor caught him. After a minute of fighting, I got her wrists zip-tied to a drainpipe and my supervisor had her boyfriend down on the ground. The police pulled up and took them into custody, and we all headed back to the restaurant. She had taken over $300 in cash from the register and had 17 customers’ credit cards!)

(The phone rings.)

Me: “[Bank], this is [My Name]; how can I help you?”

Customer: “Yes, hello. I’m [Customer] and I’m an attorney. One of my clients, who banked there, passed away. Her name is [Person]. I’m in charge of her estate. I need her account balances and I also need to know how to get access to her safe deposit box.”

Me: “Are you on the account with her?”

Customer: “No. I was her attorney, though. I’ve done this before.”

(I go into the computer system to see if we have anything on file. Neither person’s name is bringing up any results.)

Me: “Unfortunately, there is nothing on file with us, so I can’t give you any information. But if you can bring in the small estate affidavit or other paperwork showing that you’re her executor, I can get it verified with Legal and then we can look a little deeper.”

Customer: “That’s ridiculous!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but that’s what Legal wants.”

Customer: “Listen here, missy. I’ve done this for many years and I’ve never been asked to bring in any sort of paperwork. You are required to give me this information.”

Me: “Not without the proper paperwork, sir. If you’d like, I can put you in touch with Legal.”

(The customer huffs. The line goes silent for a minute.)

Me: “Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

Customer: “You were not helpful!”

Me: “Have a nice day!”

Customer: “UGH!”

(I hung up. I went into the system and discovered that there had never been an account on file for the person he had just yelled at me about. Oops!)