I work for a junk removal company that specializes in move-outs, hoarding, and decluttering.

We arrive at the house of a customer who is moving and needs her basement and attic cleared out. She gives us the tour and then we set to filling our box truck and trailer.

During the cleanout, we confirm that she wants photos and miscellaneous items removed. We fill the box truck and that truck’s driver takes those items to donation places like Goodwill, teen groups, Salvation Army, etc.

He returns and we fill the box truck again to the point of us forcing the door closed. We also fill the trailer.

Customer: “Did you take it?”

Me: “Take what?”

Customer: “The thing out of the closet.”

Me: “What thing out of the closet?”

Customer: “I don’t know what, but it was in the closet and now it’s gone.”

Me: “Ma’am, you’re going to have to be more clear. We don’t know exactly what you’re looking for unless you tell us.”

Customer: “We need to look for it. It has to be in your truck.”

Me: “Ma’am, we can’t unload the truck here in your yard. You’re going to have to come with us to the warehouse. We will have you look through the stuff as we bring it out.”

At the warehouse, the customer looks through every can, box, bag, etc., until we have unloaded both trucks. She grabs multiple items but none are “the thing.” It has now been nine hours since the job began and it should have ended an hour ago.

Me: “Ma’am, are you positive we took the item?”

Customer: “Yes, I don’t know what it was but I know you took it. Can we check the stuff you took to donation?”

Our poor owner ended up taking them to the places we donated the stuff and spent the next couple of hours searching for “the thing.”

For those wondering, “the thing” was never found and we still don’t know what “the thing” was. She also never tipped us for the nine hours of labor to clear out her basement and attic on a very hot day with lots of stairs.

The boss did let me take a box fan home, though, so that was nice.

I’ve been out of the workforce for about a decade, due to illness and staying home with kids. I recently decided to try part-time work at a friend’s cafe. Since I just started, my boss has been in training and helping me. 

In walks a woman who seems a bit flustered.

Customer: “Do you have something like iced coffee?” 

Me: “Yes, we do!” 

Customer: “And can I get… caramel in it?” 

Me: “You sure can!” 

Customer: “Great. And cream and sugar.” 

We are a small cafe. We provide cream and sugar, but we never add it in. My boss steps in.

Boss: “We have cream and sugar down at the end here, and you can add it in yourself.”

She seems satisfied, so I tell her the total.

Customer: “And you mixed in the cream and sugar?” 

I can see my boss twitching, so I try to help.

Me: “No, we provide the cream and sugar for you to add. That way you’ll have it exactly as you like.”

Customer: “So you don’t mix any of it?”

Me: “Oh, yes, we will mix in the caramel, just not the cream and sugar.”

Customer: “So I have to do everything myself?! Does it come with sugar?”

Now this woman seems to be getting visibly distressed. I’m confused at what to do, but I keep trying.

Me: “We will mix together your coffee and the caramel. There is sugar in the caramel.” 

Customer: “Okay, but what about the sugar?!”

Me: “Would you like us to add sugar for you and mix it in?”

This is not our policy, but this lady is freaking out, and my boss is frustrated. It’s taking way longer than it should, and we are not understanding her request. 

Customer: “NO! I just want the cream and sugar!” 

Customer: “Right. So we will mix in the caramel, and you can add cream and sugar at the end.” 

Customer: “And what about the sugar?! What’s the point? I could’ve done this myself. I’m just so confused at this point. Just give me the coffee.” 

I’m still trying, because this woman mentioned she lives across the street, and that usually means repeat customers.

Me: “I’m trying to understand what you’d like. We can mix in sugar for you, and the caramel is already mixed in.”

Customer: “I have no idea what’s going on. I’ll just take it.”

We have no idea what’s going on, either.

She finishes adding whatever she adds, and I find coffee all over our counter.

Boss: “Yeah, it was probably that crazy lady who has never seen a coffee shop in her life. I don’t need her to come back.”

I recently attended a live show of the national tour of The Lion King. As everybody who’s ever attended any kind of show knows, there are signs all over reminding you that no photography or videos are allowed during the show, and they make an announcement just before the show starts. Usually, 99% of the audience has no problems with this and is happy to just immerse themselves in the show. 

This time, however, somebody decided she was above that rule. 

An older woman a couple of rows in front of me was sneaking pictures with her phone, purposely keeping her phone at her lap so as not to get caught. I didn’t want to say anything, because I knew I’d get the age-old excuse, “Mind your own business! It’s not bothering you!” 

At a dark scene, though, she messed up. She must’ve forgotten her flash was set to automatic, because suddenly, it went off with her picture. Several people looked back, and she quickly dropped her phone onto her lap. The kid with her whispered something to her, I’m assuming telling her to knock it off, and she didn’t take another picture.

(I am mildly arachnophobic but have always been excited to see scary decorations every Halloween. I’ve never gotten to decorate my house before, so upon receiving a free set of fake spider web decorations, I decide I’m courageous enough to put them up and get a fake spider to go along with them. I go to a Halloween store to purchase a spider. I carefully stay away from the many moving spider props and pick out a traditional furry spider with wire legs. When I go to purchase my spider at the cashier’s station, a large spider drops down from the ceiling into my face.)

Me: *gasps loudly and jumps a foot back* “Jesus Christ!”

Employee: *laughs* “Well, we know the props are doing their job!” *points up to the spider*

(The spider is on a string; it’s a prop that I noticed in the aisle, advertised to drop down from where it’s hung.)

Me: *sheepishly* “I’m arachnophobic.”

Employee: “Oh, gosh, sorry about that!”

(I was able to laugh it off along with the employee, but I still don’t know what I expected upon going into a Halloween store!)

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Customer: “Hey, I want a drink without any alcohol. What do you have?”

Me: “Well, can I get you a soda or something? Maybe some juice?”

Customer: “Can I get a virgin long island?”

Me: “You mean, you want an iced tea?”

Customer: “No, I want a virgin long island.”

Me: “But, a long island is mostly alcohol. I mean, there are five shots in it. Then some sour and some coke. Do you want a glass of sour and coke?”

Customer: “Is that alcoholic?”

(I give up and hand her an iced tea.)

Customer: *turning to a friend, excitedly* “I got a virgin long island!”

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