It’s our second week open after being closed for two months and I’m on the main register for the first hour of my shift, which means I’m the first person a customer sees when they come in the building. We’ve been sanitizing carts, counters, and things, and employees are all wearing masks. One of the very first customers to walk in the door stands right next to our sign that says, “Clean carts,” and looks at me.

Customer: “Do you sanitize your carts every night?”

Me: “Yes, every day. We just sanitized most of those.”

After she walked away, I said to myself, “No, we leave that for you to do yourself. What? Of course we’re sanitizing carts.”

This lady took a cart and, an hour later, she returned it to the clean cart corral after paying for her items. I didn’t see which line of clean carts she put it in, since I was ringing up another customer, so when I was free, I grabbed the first cart in each line to sanitize just in case. What I should have said was, “Yes, after every use,” but even then, I’m not sure she would have gotten the hint, since she missed the “clean carts” sign twice.

It’s our second week open after two months of being closed. We’ve implemented new procedures such as enter-only and exit-only doors, disinfecting carts after each use, and employees wearing masks. I have just rung up [Customer #1] and begun ringing up the man who was behind her in line. She turns around as she reaches the doors.

Customer #1: “How do I get out?”

Me: “That door right there.”

Customer #2: “Go left.”

Admittedly, our signs are only standard printer paper with bold capital letters, so they’re not the most eye-catching thing, but she was standing a foot or two from the “EXIT ONLY” sign. I would have thought that, plus the furniture displayed in the lobby — not to mention other customers coming and going — would have indicated there was only one direction to go. Apparently, this customer found it confusing.

Related:
It’s A Very Bad Signs, Part 3
It’s A Very Bad Signs, Part 2
It’s A Very Bad Signs

We have just opened a new office of a business with a name similar to, yet still very different from a popular Midwest restaurant chain. We are not involved in food service or anything even remotely similar.

One day at about noon, an older gentleman walks in.

Customer: “Are you serving lunch yet?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. We’re an office, not a restaurant.”

Around me are cubicles, copiers, and desks — nothing at all that looks like a restaurant.

Customer: “Oh, do you only open for supper hours?”

Me: “Sir, this is [Business], not [Restaurant].”

Customer: *Pointing toward the window* “That sign outside says [Restaurant]!” *Stomps away*

My boyfriend and I are lying in bed in his very small apartment, having just been intimate. Suddenly, he bolts upright and screams:

Boyfriend: “CHICKEN!”

He did it with such ferocity and urgency that I became convinced for a moment that somehow a live chicken had made its way into his third-story walk-up. But then, he leaped out of bed and sprinted to the kitchen, which is when I remembered that he’d cooked chicken for dinner. After he’d finished our dinner, he’d put the remaining pieces in the oven to cook while we ate. That was at least an hour before this, and they’d been cooking the whole time. Chicken should be cooked to an internal temp of at least 165 degrees Fahrenheit. These temped at more than 200 degrees. He was able to use it in a soup, which helped rehydrate it. But we were giggling all night — and even long after — about CHICKEN!

It’s a Monday. I’ve been at work for three or four hours and I’m up a ladder when two guys come up to me.

Guy #1: “Hey, are you busy right now?”

Me: “What can I help you with?”

Honestly, yes, I’m kind of busy, but it’s also my job to help customers.

Guy #1: “I bought this box here, and there’s something in it.”

My brain doesn’t fully process this, but I take the box from him, frowning. It looks vaguely like one of our small craft boxes, but I don’t immediately see a price tag. I open it slowly to find a giant fake spider and I don’t say anything.

Guy #1: “What?! You’re not scared?!”

Me: “Of a fake spider? No.”

Guy #1: “The girls up front told us there was someone working back here who might be scared.”

Me: “Well, I’m sure they meant me, but I’m not.”

Guy #1: “Like, you’re not afraid of anything?”

Me: “I’m afraid of things but not obviously fake spiders.”

It took another few comments, but the guys both left. One of my coworkers came back and asked me if they’d approached me, and she told me that she knew something was up when the one guy approached her and the other had his phone out filming. They apparently tried to tell her their YouTube channel. We just laughed about it.