I got my first paycheck job at a fast-food burger place in March of the year I graduated high school. As is typical, I started at minimum wage, which was $3.35/hour.

After a year at minimum, I asked one of my managers for a raise. I was closing several nights a week and was being trained for morning shift duties on the weekend. She apologized, but the two local stores had recently been purchased by a new owner. By their rules, we had to work at least three months for them before being considered for a raise.

In July, they had an evaluation of all employees. A manager would observe us on duty and evaluate us on five different topics, with scores of zero, one, or two. Adding up the scores gave us a total of up to ten. 

We talked one-on-one with the managers, who revealed our new hourly rate. One of my more experienced coworkers stormed out of their meeting.

Me: “What’s wrong?”

Coworker: “I got a ten out of ten, and got a whole dime per hour raise!”

I wasn’t too optimistic about my meeting. [Coworker] was an excellent worker and only got $0.10/hour. I went back shortly after and was told, with my score of seven out of ten, that I’d get a $0.05/hour raise, up to a whopping $3.40/hour.

To add insult to injury, when the next week’s schedule was posted, I only had two hours. Just an evening dinner rush. I’d gone from working twenty-five to thirty hours a week to two.

I quit the next week. I got a work-study job at the college for $3.85.

The register is going very slowly today. An older customer is paying with cash, and it ends up being quicker to calculate his change using my calculator instead of waiting for the register to catch up.

Customer: “Ugh! You kids are too reliant on technology to do anything!”

Me: “Just trying to provide a speedy service, sir.”

Customer: “What?! Oh, wait, my hearing aids are turned off.” *Presses something on his hearing aids.* “What did you say?!”

Me: “…I said your change is $4.47, sir!”

A man came in and deposited $500 into his ex-wife’s account.

Customer: “How much is $500?”

Me: “Uh… It’s $500.”

Customer: “Yeah, but like, how much can you get with that? A lot?”

Me: “I mean, depending on how good you are with money and what you’re buying.”

Customer: “My ex-wife always handled the money, so I have no idea how it works.”

Me: “How what works?”

Customer: “Money.”

This man was in his mid-thirties. I don’t know how he survived this long.

I’m selling some items at a yard sale. Everything is as you’d expect: random items being sold for cheap (most things cost a dollar or two); cash only.

Customer: “I’m interested in [items].”

Me: “Cool! All three together comes to… $7.”

Customer: “I’m from Oregon.”

Me: “Okay.”

Customer: “So… what’s the price now?”

Me: “Still $7.”

Customer: “But I’m from Oregon. We don’t have sales tax. What’s the price without sales tax?”

Me: “This is a yard sale. The price you see is the price you pay.”

Customer: “But I’m from Oregon.”

Me: “And the price is still $7.”

Customer: “You’re expecting me, an Oregonian, to pay sales tax?!”

Me: “I already bought these once and paid the sales tax then. If you want, I can charge you the sales tax I paid then and take it off since, y’know, you’re from Oregon, and the total comes to… $7.”

Customer: *Sniffs.* “Everything here is ugly anyway.” *Walks away.*

I probably would have cut her a deal if she were a normal person!

I’m in a higher-end grocery store than I’m used to, as I’m on vacation in an unfamiliar area with a friend. We’re staying in self-catering accommodation, so we’re buying some supplies.

Me: “Oh, carrots. We need those. Grab them.”

Friend: *Looks at the price.* “Wow! These are soooo expensive!”

Me: “Oh, well, those are heirloom carrots, so they would be.”

Friend: “Don’t they sell cheaper carrots? I don’t need to pay extra for carrots with generational backstory.”

We did eventually find regular carrots and much more reasonably priced. Then we came across the heirloom tomatoes, and my friend started assuming that all of this shop’s vegetables were closer in line to the throne than we were.