At our restaurant in the amusement park where I work, there are glass-doored refrigerators that hold cold drinks for our guests to buy. I’m working as the cashier and two teenage boys run in with large plastic water bottles.

Boy: “Can I put these water bottles in the coolers for a bit while we go on rides?”

I blink a couple of times, processing what I just heard.

Me: “Umm… no, sorry. The coolers are for keeping our merchandise cold for our customers.”

Boy: “Don’t you have a marker or something? I can write ‘Not for Sale’ on them.”

Me: “I still can’t do that; customers accidentally buying your drinks isn’t the problem. We can’t hold personal drinks in them for safety reasons.”

Boy: “Come on! We just want our water to be cold.”

Me: “Well, I can give you ice for 25 cents.”

Boy: “Are you kidding me? I don’t have that much!”

And with that, they run out of the restaurant with their warm water. I walk back to see my coworkers.

Me: “Did that really just happen?”

Manager: “I think it just did. At least you handled it well!”

Most retailers have a policy that returns should have a receipt, and they have “loyalty cards” that link to purchases made and specific time limits for returns. I work for a retailer that does this. Two teen boys come to the counter.

Male Teen #1: “I’d like to return these items. My mom bought the wrong thing.”

He shows me two containers of very expensive acne remedy. They cost $15.00 each. They’re out of their original box — if they had one — and don’t appear to be something we carry now. I certainly don’t remember selling it recently. I start the return process.

Me: “Do you have a receipt?”

Male Teen #1: “No.”  

Me: “Do you have your Mom’s loyalty card?”

Male Teen #1: “No”. 

Male Teen #2: “But I have a card!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we must have the original card it was purchased with.”  

I turn to [Male Teen #1].

Me: “What’s your mom’s phone number?”

Male Teen #1: “I don’t know.”

I void the transaction. This is a trigger for more investigation. I call my manager to approve the void. There’s no way I can process this one.

Me: “This young man would like to return these items, but he has no receipt and no card and he doesn’t know his mother’s phone number.” 

The boys step back from the counter, and the manager goes off with the products in hand. After a few minutes, he comes back. He’s done some research.

Manager: “I’m sorry, but we haven’t sold any of this product in over three months.”

Somehow, the boys didn’t seem surprised. They left without so much as a protest and without any money. Next time, know your own mother’s phone number!

(I notice that one of the donut labels in the case has been put in the wrong place, labeling “chocolate coconut” as “chocolate butternut,” instead. The actual chocolate butternut donuts have no label. I mean to fix it but forget. However, there is a clear distinction between the chocolate coconut donuts which are covered in white coconut and the chocolate butternut ones which are covered in yellow butternut.

A female customer in her 40s comes up to the front.)

Me: “Hi there! What can I get for you?”

Customer: “Hi, I’ll get a medium iced coffee and… a chocolate butternut donut.”

(I begin to grab a chocolate butternut from the non-labeled slot but the woman stops me.)

Customer: “No, no, not that one. The chocolate butternut.”

Me: *confused momentarily* “Oh! You mean the chocolate coconut? Sorry, someone mislabeled this earlier and I just forgot to fix it.”

Customer: “Oh! That’s chocolate coconut?”

Me: “Yes.”

Customer: “Coconut’s white?”

(I sputtered for a few seconds before handing the woman her donut and cashing her out.)

(I am working at the drive-thru cash register. A customer pulls up with an older man in the driver’s seat and a woman in the passenger’s seat, with a tiny dog on her lap.)

Me: “Hi! Your total will be—”

(The dog immediately starts freaking out and barking, trying to lunge at me through the window. In between barks, it sounds like it’s almost hissing. I finish the transaction as the woman holds back the dog, who continues to bark.)

Man: “I’m sorry, she’s not usually like this.”

Me: “That’s okay.”

(They drive off and I turn to my coworker who witnessed the whole thing.)

Me: “Wow.”

Coworker: “That dog was Toto from Hell.”

(A library patron asks for a specific book. I look it up in our catalog and give them the call number. They go out to the stacks but return a few minutes later without the book.)

Patron: “I can’t find this.”

Me: “Okay, let’s go have a look.”

(I lead them to the stacks where their book should be in call number order.)

Patron: “This is where I was. It isn’t here! I looked all over!”

(I reach down and pull the book they want from the bottom shelf and hand it to them.)

Patron: “Oh, I didn’t think to look on the bottom shelf.”

Me: “…?”