(Here in Minnesota we have strict liquor laws concerning selling anything other than 3.2 beer after 10:00 pm. If anyone sells alcohol past that time, both the cashier and the business get a very hefty fine. Imagine my grim surprise when, two minutes after closing, the door opens and a woman rushes in.)

Customer: “I know you’re closed, but I just got off the phone with the woman in charge. She said I could buy alcohol as long as it’s five minutes after.”

Me: “You talked to my boss?”

Customer: “Yes.”

(Thankfully, since my boss is cool, and I work in a small town liquor store, I’m allowed to be rude to fools.)

Me: *laughs* “You heard wrong.”

Customer: “She totally told me that. Where is she?”

Me: “She’s been gone for six hours; it’s just me here. But what is it you wanted?”

Customer: “I told her I was just going to get a pint of [Cognac].”

Me: *laughs even harder* “Ma’am, we’ve been out of [Cognac] for weeks. Well, I do have 1.75L of it left, but if you really need it that bad, it’ll cost $20,046.”

Customer: “What?! Why is it so expensive?!”

Me: “Because of all the fines we’ll receive for selling after ten o’clock, plus a little extra for me so I can find myself a new job after I sell it to you.”

Customer: *getting defensive* “Well, you don’t have to get hostile. I’ll call her back and get you fired, anyway!”

Me: *shrugs* “I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

(She angrily left, and I called my boss. Obviously, she never got a phone call from someone about coming in late. After a bit of speculation and calling around, we discovered that there was a new girl working two miles down the road at a separate liquor store, who answered the call. I saved her a massive fine.)

(I am working in the gaming department. A couple and their young son of about six are looking for a game.)

Me: *to the kid* “What’s your favorite game?”

Kid: “Uh… I dunno.”

Me: “My favorite game is Pokémon.”

Kid: “No, it’s not!”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Kid: *defiantly* “Grown-ups can’t play video games.”

(I’m working in the gaming department of an electronics store. At this time, our store’s gaming department is ranked #1 in the company, due in no small part to a female coworker who is very knowledgeable, skilled at selling, and personable. However, this situation plays out several times.)

Coworker: “[My Name], can you see if that group of customers needs anything? I asked them, and they said no, but I think it’s because I’m a girl.”

Me: “No problem.”

(I walk over to the group of teenage boys.)

Me: “Hey, guys, is there anything I can help you with?”

Customer: “Yeah, we’re wondering if [Game] is any good.”

Me: “You know what? I haven’t had a chance to play that one yet. But I do have a coworker that has, and knows everything about it. I’ll be right back.”

Customer: “Thanks!”

Me: *returning with my female coworker* “[Coworker], these guys had a question about [Game]. Can you help them?”

Customer: “Uh…” *silence, embarrassment*

(That coworker ended up getting a job in the gaming industry. To this day, I’m convinced that I will never know as much about games as her.)

(I’m working in the appliances section of an electronics store, and an old man comes up to me.)

Customer: “Excuse me, where is the [Toothpaste]?”

Me: “I’m not sure. Wait, [Toothpaste]?”

Customer: “Yes, I know you sell it here. Where is it in your store?”

Me: “I’m a little confused. Where did you see that we carry [Toothpaste]?”

(The old man procures a copy of Consumer Reports magazine, and opens it to their reviews of various toothpastes. At the top of the page is the toothpaste he wants, with a little graphic that calls it out as a “best buy;” that is, a good thing to purchase. I explain it very carefully, and though disappointed, the man leaves my department. A few minutes later, over the walkie:)

Manager: “Hey, [My Name]. You know where everything is, right?”

Me: “Pretty much. Why?”

Manager: “Do you know where the [Toothpaste] is?”

(I’m getting a few small tattoos at a nice parlor that’s doing a $20 special. There’s a pretty big line. The parlor has about 20 sheets with multiple tattoo designs that fall under the special. I have a saying tattooed on my arm: “For something to be fixed, it must first be broken.”)

Friend: “You never said what tattoos you were getting.”

Me: “I want the flower by my ankle, the book on my wrist, and if we have time I want to get the cracked mirror added to this one.” *indicates tattoo on my arm*

Rude Guy: “Wow. What unoriginal tattoos you’re getting.”

Friend: “Uh, you know there’s a finite amount of designs they’re doing today, right?”

Me: “Also, it’s my body, so I can add whatever art I want to it.”

Rude Guy: “Whatever. If you want the crappy tattoos, get them. I’m just some guy and have like fifteen tats already, but what do I know?”

Me: “Okay, we’re ignoring him now. Did you ever decide between those two?”

(A little while later, a tattoo artist grabs me, my friend, and the guy behind us to confirm what designs we want. I decide to get the cracked mirror on top of my other two.)

Rude Guy: *scoffing* “How many chicks got those exact tattoos in those exact places already? How original.”

Artist: “If you have a problem with the art, you can leave. If you wanna be a jack-a** to people getting tattoos, I ain’t gonna ink you.” *he notices my arm tattoo* “I like the saying. What’s it from?”

Me: “I really don’t know if I heard it somewhere or what, but I got it a few years ago. In the past two years it’s been a reminder that, even though I had cancer and still have lingering medical problems, I’m not broken.”

Friend: “And her last surgeon liked it so much she got permission to take a picture of the tattoo. It’s hanging in her office now.”

(The artist chatted with us and collected our payment. My friend went first because she only wanted one, then the rude guy, who was getting two, then me. Turns out, the tattoo my friend was getting was the same as one of the ones the rude guy wanted, and in the same spot. The rude guy turned bright red and stormed out of the parlor. The artist put the $40 he left behind towards our tattoos. We gave him the original amount as a tip.)