I am an assistant manager for a retail store that appeals to trendy youth. The job itself is fun, but since switching to all self-checkout, customers have become increasingly difficult to help.

Today is a busy day. It was supposed to be three associates and me working for the day. (Sundays are our short days; we’re open for seven hours.) One associate had to leave early, so it’s three people for the entire store. Fun times, right? It doesn’t help when the self-checkouts are all occupied and the attending cashier needs back up but the others are assisting other customers.

It is around 4:00 pm when the attending cashier is pulled away from the registers to help find an item. I go up to the front to replace her and call the other associate to help with a return/exchange. A woman comes up with a cart, and I assume that she is getting ready to check out. I start to guide her to an open register and start with my usual spiel.

Me: “Hi! Did you find everything you need?”

The customer makes her way over to me and puts out her hand to stop me from saying anything else.

Customer: “I have a question regarding a previous purchase I made here.”

Me: “Sure, what can I help you with?”

Customer: “I was in here last Friday and bought some items. I left a bag behind by accident and I called the store to see if they found the bag. The woman on the phone said that it was at the front and I could grab it that day. However, I wasn’t able to make it back on Friday, and I am coming in to grab them now. I have the items in the cart. Am I all set to go?”

I glitch for a second because I wasn’t made aware of anything left behind, and we don’t have a plastic bag labeled as such behind the customer service desk. What makes me extra cautious is that she has some of the pricier snacks and a couple of Bluetooth items in the cart.

Me: “Okay. Do you have a copy of your receipt to verify the purchase?”

Customer: “No, I wasn’t told that I needed to bring the receipt, just that I could pick up the rest of my order when I got here!”

Me: “Well, unfortunately, I need a receipt to verify that the purchase was made.”

Customer: “I have been here before on many occasions and have left items behind. I didn’t need a receipt to pick up the items any of those times! I don’t have my receipt! I wasn’t told to bring it!”

Me: “Again, without a receipt, there is nothing I can do. I need a receipt to verify the purchase.”

Customer: “I spoke with a woman on the phone on Friday, and she never mentioned a receipt!”

Me: “I still cannot allow you to leave with the items. I need proof of purchase. Without a receipt, there’s nothing I can do.”

Customer: “So, you’re saying that I have to pay for these items again even though I paid for them Friday and was told I could pick them up when I came back Friday?!”

Me: “Yes. You don’t have a receipt proving the original purchase. Without a receipt, there is nothing I can do.”

She looks at me for a minute.

Customer: *Aggressively* “Well, can I just take this item and then pay for everything else?”

The item in her hand is a $7 Bluetooth speaker.

Me: *Mentally done* “Again, without a receipt, there is nothing I can do. You do need to pay for those items before leaving the store.”

The customer stormed off and met up with a couple of other people that she had come in with. They eventually checked out and left, but not before making a mess of the registers and abandoning carts where it was busiest.

I did call the Friday manager. No one had called the store that day and nothing had been left behind. So, either the customer called the correct store and went to the wrong one OR she had every intention of stealing the items and came up with a BS story to cover her tracks.

I hate people.

I did some computer work for a local Catholic church. The work I did was top-notch, interviewing the secretary about precisely what they needed. I got their software updated — and legal — as requested.

Two months later, I was called into our firm’s senior partner’s office and read the riot act. Mind you, I had done work for the priest for over fifteen years at a different church.

Senior Partner: “[Secretary] told her boss, [Priest], that you forced them to purchase the wrong software.”

Me: “I didn’t, and I have emails to support my case.”

Senior Partner: “[Priest] wouldn’t lie about this matter.”

Me: “He probably wasn’t lying but received poor information from [Secretary]. I’m more than willing to fix it, though, if they’re not happy with the software.”

Senior Partner: “No. You are not to make contact with [Church] or [Priest] again. They paid [Larger Firm] to come in and fix it.”

I knew the owner of [Larger Firm], so I called him to see what he had been told. Sure enough, [Secretary] had messed something up, but rather than take credit for the debacle, she threw me under the bus.

I got the whole thing drawn up in a memo and presented it to my boss. He didn’t even read it.

Senior Partner: “How could you do something behind my back like this?!”

Cool. I went back to my office and sent an acceptance email for a teaching job at the beginning of the year.

How can you work with or for someone when they no longer trust your word or work ethic? My last day with that firm was the seventeenth anniversary of starting with them.

At the beginning of the school year, the district staff attends a meeting where we’re addressed by the upper administrators. The new assistant superintendent goes on and on about how creative children are and wants us to hear a poem her grandson wrote.

Assistant Superintendent: “‘If I were in charge of the world, I’d cancel homework and bathtime and dentist visits…’ Isn’t that adorable? Let me read more. ‘There’d be no more “Read a book”… You wouldn’t even have books.’” *Pauses* “Well, I guess that’s not so great, but listen… ‘A chocolate chip cookie would be a vegetable.’ How adorable is that? My grandson wishes cookies were vegetables. How cute! How creative!”

That night, using an anonymous email account, I write to her.

Me: “Your grandson’s poem is actually If I Were In Charge Of The World by Judith Viorst.”

Assistant Superintendent: “Yes, well, his teacher read his class the poem and then had them all fill in the blanks for their own version.”

Lady, don’t try to tell a bunch of teachers that your grandson wrote a pretty well-known poem. We do read. She only lasted a year in our district.

I work at a brewery. We only serve beer made in-house. We’re located near several venues, and it’s not unusual for people to try to bring in outside alcohol.

Me: “Excuse me, sir, you’re not allowed to consume outside alcohol on the premises.”

Customer: “This is your beer.”

Me: “Sir, are you really going to look me straight in the eye and tell me that the can of Bud Light you’re literally pouring into your glass right this second was brewed here?”

Customer: “Your bartender sold it to me!”

Me: “I don’t think so.”

They were made to leave.

A customer is calling.

Caller: “I bought a milkshake from you for my ill, bedridden, elderly mother! She lives an hour away, so I had to go a long way! My poor mother dropped the milkshake and a whole live cockroach ran out of it!”

Me: “Do you have any pictures of the roach, ma’am?”

Caller: “No, it ran away.”

Me: “Do you have your receipt of purchase, ma’am?”

Caller: “No, my ill mother threw it away.”

Me: “Do you want to come back and have us remake that shake for you, ma’am?”

Caller: “No, you have roaches in your food! And I live an hour away!”

Me: “What would you like us to do, ma’am?”

Caller: “You need to mail my cash back to me!”

I wanted to ask her to mail the dead cockroach to us first, but I had to simply professionally decline.