A customer is trying to tap their credit card to pay. He’s an older fella, and the cashier is a young woman.

Cashier: “Sir, it’s asking you to insert your card and enter your PIN.”

Customer: “And I told you I don’t want to do that. Are you having trouble understanding my English?”

Cashier: “I… understand it just fine, sir. I don’t have any control over which transactions can be paid with a tap and which need a PIN inserted. That’s decided by your bank.”

Customer: “I don’t want to type in my PIN in a public space! It’s not secure!”

Cashier: “Sir, it’s more secure than simply tapping your card.”

Customer: “Shut up! I will not be told how to spend my money by a little immigrant girl.”

I’m about to step in and tell this guy to shut the f*** up, but a manager appears before I make more than a couple of steps.

Manager: “Mate! Just insert the card or use another one. Being a racist pr**k isn’t going to make the card go through.”

Customer: “It’s not racist to expect some basic English comprehension and some decent customer service, not to mention that this girl here doesn’t even know how to operate her machine! Did you know immigrants have taken all the jobs?! Did you?!”

The manager puts his finger up to his lips and does the ‘shhh’ noise, while also holding the same finger from his other hand up to the customer’s face, doubling the shushing. Then he says calmly:

Manager: “Did you know if you put your top lip and your bottom lip together, you’d shut the f*** up?”

He did shut the f*** up, as he abandoned his shopping and walked out!

I worked at a convenience store, and there was another convenience store literally across the street. Employees at both stores would say something similar to these kinds of customers:

Customer: “You know [Competitor]’s prices are cheaper than yours?”

Me: “I did not know that, but if you did and you’re still shopping here, you’re a bit of a stupid c*** aren’t ya?”

Customer: “Hey, I don’t have my glasses, can you tell me where this perfume was made?”

Me: “Sure thing.”

I start looking at the outside of the box.

Me: “It says here ‘Made in PRC’, which I’m pretty sure stands for People’s Republic of China.”

Customer: “Are you sure it’s a ‘C’? It could be a ‘G’?” *Gasps.* “Maybe it’s made in Prague!”

Sure, you keep thinking that, buddy.

I’ve been working reception at this auction house for about three weeks, and today I had a truck driver come in to collect a client’s purchase. As I’m getting the paperwork ready, we’re having a casual chat about the weather.

Truck Driver: “It’s hot in this office!”

Me: “Is it still chilly outside?”

Truck Driver: “Not too chilly, but windy.”

Me: “Yeah, it always seems to be windy in this area.”

Truck Driver: “You know why, right?”

Me: *Not sure where this is going.* “I’m really not sure.”

Truck Driver: “Well, you’re right near the airport here, you’ve got all those planes around!”

Me: *Confused.* “I don’t think the planes cause wind.”

Truck Driver: “Haven’t you heard about chemtrails?

At this point, I see where he’s going. I try hard not to roll my eyes, but there is definitely an eye-roll in my voice when I say:

Me: “Yeah, I’ve heard about chemtrails.”

I’ve finished up his paperwork, and I hand it to him and send him on his way, then the other receptionist says to me:

Receptionist: “He’s in here all the time, he’s always full of crap like that. I was looking anywhere but at him, so he couldn’t draw me in!”

…Well, thanks for leaving the nutcase for me to deal with!

I’ve just finished checking in at the airport, which took much longer than it should have – I had my boarding pass in Google Wallet, and the kiosk wouldn’t scan my QR code. An older lady stops me to ask for help, and she’s having the same problem, so I try to see what I can do.

I check the phone’s settings quickly and hand it back. She hits the App Overview button to find her pass, but its window only appears as a white screen, and she closes it.

Lady: “What have you done?!”

Me: “Huh?”

Lady: *Frantically searching her open apps.* “It’s gone! You’ve ruined it!”

Me: “…You can get it from Google Wallet—”

Lady: “—I don’t have Google Wallet! It’s gone forever now!”

She opens Google Wallet. The button leading to her pass is on screen, clearly marked.

Me: “That’s it. Just tap that.”

She leaves Google Wallet and begins searching her emails for her boarding pass.

Lady: “You’ve helped enough!”

I consider making an obviously stressed-out airport patron feel like an idiot, but I decide it’s better to apologise and walk away.

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Lady: *Relaxing.* “It’s fine. It’s my fault for asking you.”

She checks in another way and heads to the bag drop kiosk, which also asks to scan your boarding pass. The last I saw of her, she was getting help from airport staff. I hope they had better luck!