(A woman is filling out a job application outside my office as I work. She knocks on the door with a question, and then pauses.)

Applicant: “Oh, look at your tissue box!”

(I glance at it. It’s a normal tissue box from a multipack, sitting on my desk.)

Me: “Yeah. My allergies are sometimes bad.”

Applicant: “Oh, but it’s perfect! It would match my living room perfectly! Where did you get it?”

Me: “[Grocery Store], a while ago. Looks like they are [Brand]. Do you have any other questions?”

Applicant: “No, no. Oh, I buy [Brand], too, but I never get a beautiful green design like that! It would match my living room so well.”

Me: “Uh-huh.”

Applicant: “I got an okay taupe color, but it only came in a multipack with a terrible red box. Did you get that recently?”

Me: “A bit ago, I guess.”

Applicant: “Oh, that’s a shame. The patterns are seasonal, you know.”

Me: “I… uh… guess I’ve never noticed… or cared. How about you finish your application?”

Applicant: “I would do anything for a box like that.” *sighs*

(She leans against my door frame for a bit, then goes back to her application and turns it in to the hiring HR manager. I make mention to the HR manager that she seemed off, but the applicant passes the initial interview and is hired. On her second day of training, I’m walking through the store when our trainer pages me.)

Trainer: “Okay. You’re not going to believe this, but one of my trainees was walking down the hall to our room and saw your office door was ajar. Before I could stop her, she ran inside, grabbed your box of tissues, and ran out of the building!”

(The applicant was fired for theft and banned from our property. I hope the mostly-empty box of tissues brought her joy, though!)

(Not long before this story, I took over as store manager. A kiosk opens up in the mall directly outside of my department store. The salespeople are rude and loud, and they aggressively harass customers passing by. They escalate to actually coming into my store to try to sell to customers shopping inside. After several emails to the mall management about this issue go unanswered, I go speak to them myself.)

Me: “I have a written report of every incident. I’m not going to put up with this any longer.”

Mall Management: “Quit pretending this is a big deal. They are only there for six months. Work it out between you and them.”

Me: “This is your responsibility, not mine, to fix.”

Mall Management: “No, and frankly, I don’t want you coming back here to whine unless they set your store on fire!”

(I forward a complaint to my higher-ups, and instruct staff to alert us when there is an issue. I find out that one of the kiosk workers has been using the men’s room downstairs, but I am not allowed to bar them from doing so. The whole time, they are still harassing my customers from the kiosk, yelling into the store. Then, a few weeks later, a smoke alarm goes off. An employee responds to find a small fire, which he puts out with an extinguisher, but the fire department still has to respond. A half-hour later, I walk into the mall management office.)

Me: “I need to complain about the kiosk employees.”

Mall Management: “I told you not to bother me unless–“

(His eyes go wide. A fireman is walking in behind me.)

Me: “Right, and it turns out one of the employees was smoking in our bathroom, set off the smoke detector, panicked, and threw the cigarette into the waste paper basket, catching it on fire. Now, can we discuss how you are going to solve this and the costs incurred?”

(The kiosk’s lease was terminated.)

(I’m walking the store floor when a part-time employee flags me down. She’s on a cash register, with one customer in front of her who is having an angry conversation on her phone. A large number of bagged clothes are across the counter.)

Employee: “Her store card was over the limit, and her credit card was declined. She’s been on her phone with her credit card. My shift ended fifteen minutes ago. I have to get to the bus stop, or I’ll miss class! I can’t suspend the order; I don’t know what to do!”

Me: “Just go clock out and get to class. I’ll handle this for you.”

(The employee dashes off. I check the order, which has been active for a total of 45 minutes, and do a re-ring so the employee’s check out time isn’t poorly affected, then wait for the customer. After a few more angry minutes, she finally turns to me.)

Customer: “This is such bulls***. They can’t just cut me off. Try my other card. I’m going to sue them. I’m going to… Wait. You’re different.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. The previous employee’s shift ended while you were on the phone.”

Customer: “Shift ended? In what, two minutes? Get her back here.”

Me: “She’s already left.”

Customer: “You can’t do this, changing people behind someone’s back! I was on the phone for two minutes. Get her back here.”

Me: “It was longer than two minutes, and she left.”

Customer: “I am spending hundreds of dollars today. You will get her back here!”

Me: “I’m afraid I can’t, ma’am… and your third card was declined.”

Customer: “None of you know how to do this! It can’t be declined. Get your manager!”

Me: “I am the manager. Do you have a fourth method of payment you would like to try?”

Customer: “Forget this!”

(She left the store, abandoning her heaps of clothes.)

(My mom is a teacher at an elementary school. The kids there are rather… interesting. This is an exchange between two students, one of whom is a huge showoff. They are discussing what they’ll be getting for Christmas.)

Kid #1: “Santa is getting me an Xbox One X!”

Kid #2: “Oh, yeah? Well, Santa is getting me an Xbox Y Four!”

Mom: “I don’t think that exists.”

Kid #2: “What would you know? You’re an adult! Adults don’t know video games!”

(The store I work at is remodeling, so we are closed down. We do not have a fence to keep people out, so instead, we put cones in the entrance of the parking lot. Over the course of the day I have to move the cones back into position because people are moving them. As I am walking back to the restaurant, I see a man getting out of his truck.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. We are closed today for remodeling.”

Customer: “What are you talking about? You’re [Store]; you’re never closed.” *proceeds to walk to the building* “What gives? The door is locked? Go open the door.”

Me: “Sorry, we are closed. I can’t do that, and even if I did open the door, there wouldn’t be any food inside.”

Customer: “What? Why didn’t you tell me you were closed?”

Me: “Why do you think those cones that you got out of your car to move were there?”