I’m a cashier at a retail furniture store, and I am bored out of my absolute mind since it is a weekday morning and the store is about as dead as I’ve ever seen it. Regardless, I’m at the counter probably trying to think of words that rhyme with “bucket” or some other absurdity, when this younger couple comes up with a couple of pillows and whatever else. I scan their items and start getting them in bags, and their total comes out to some odd dollars and six cents.

The guy pulls out his wallet and gets a $50 bill. They both go through their pockets and can’t find any change, so he just gives me the fifty.

Guy: “Man, this is why I hate stores. They always make you break stuff for no reason.”

I say something about how it’s a pain and make some joke about sales tax that I’ve used every day for a year. I start getting the guy his change — whatever dollars and 94 cents — and I count out loud as I’m getting the coins — 25, 50, 75, 85, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94 — and as I’m about to give it to him, he says:

Guy: “See what I mean, man? Look at all that change.”

And that’s where things get bizarre.

I give him his change and the receipt and tell him to have a good day.

Guy: “You realize you would’ve been better off giving me a dollar?”

I sort of give him a look and just explain.

Me: “I know carrying the coins around can be annoying, but the computers will tell the managers at the end of the night exactly how much is supposed to be in the drawer, and they throw a fit if it’s off at all, above or below what it’s supposed to be.”

Guy: “No, you just gave me more than a dollar in change for no reason.”

He balls his hand into a fist around the coins and starts shaking them like a maraca.

Me: *Confused* “Sir, I’m pretty certain I gave you the 94 cents I was supposed to.”

Guy: “Yeah, man, that’s more than a dollar.”

And he walked off.

I am befuddled.

I work at a car wash at a gas station. We have some of those vacuums that you put quarters in. A customer comes up to me and complains.

Customer: “The vacuum isn’t working! I put a dollar in, and it won’t start.”

I go to check out the problem.

Me: “Oh, it looks like someone has blocked the coin slot with something.”

Customer: “You mean the money slot? That was me! It won’t take my money!”

She had tried putting a dollar bill in the coin slot; she had folded it up a bunch of times to try and get it in.

In Texas, to be sales tax-exempt, you have to be a farmer, a church, work for the government, etc. For everyone else, you pay sales tax on most non-food-related items in my state; it doesn’t matter if you’re the governor or a tourist.

In order for a tax-exempt purchase to go through we (the cashiers) have to have the right paperwork filled out, signed, and submitted. Each. And. Every. Time. Someone wants to buy something. It is a long process that takes far longer than it should, holds up the line, and makes cranky customers more cranky.

All that being explained, throw it out the window when it comes to this guy. This older man comes up to my register where I scan and bag his items. I tell him his total, and this is where the confusion starts.

Me: “Your total will be $50.83, sir.”

Customer: “I don’t pay tax.”

Me: “Oh, do you have your tax-exempt paperwork ready with your exemption number?”

Customer: “No, I don’t have paperwork, and I don’t pay tax.”

I’m really confused at this point.

Me: “I’m sorry, but if you don’t have your paperwork, I can’t process the sale without tax. You’ll have to pay the tax and then go through the tax office to try to get a refund.”

This man just looks at me like I’m the dumbest creature on this planet and he doesn’t know why he has to talk to me.

Customer: “I’m from Oregon! I don’t pay sales tax there, and I’m not going to pay your tax! Now take it off or I’m leaving!”

I have a vague understanding (and I could be wrong) that if you visit a sales-tax state, like Texas, and you live in a non-sales-tax state like Oregon, you can get a refund on the sales tax when you get home. But at the time of this purchase (2013), you have to pay the sales tax. Also, it’s not like I would’ve known this guy was from a different state just by looking at him.

Me: “Sir, this is Texas, and everyone pays sales tax. Everyone. I can’t exempt you just because you’re from another state; I don’t even have a way to input that into my computer. Sorry.” 

He, of course, got mad and started walking out of the store yelling about how he didn’t pay sales tax and he was not going to. My coworkers just looked at him like he was a nut, and I explained what had happened when he left.

My manager just rolled his eyes, muttered about what a “f****** dumba**” the guy was, and went back to building a display case.

Customer: “…and a triple burger.”

Employee: “Okay, that’s $54.22.”

A while later…

Customer: “Hey. I ordered a triple burger but only got two patties. Can you just toss another patty on it?”

Employee: “Sure! We’ll get that out ASAP!”

In the “kitchen”…

Employee: “Hey. The guy ordered a triple burger, but I accidentally rang in a double. He said he’s fine just having another patty thrown on it; we don’t need to remake it.”

Me: “Sure, I’ve got one just coming off of the grill for that other order. I’ll take that one out to him right away.”

Manager: “DID YOU CHARGE HIM FOR IT? GO CHARGE HIM FOR IT.”

Now, my thinking is that the guy spent upwards of $50 at a slightly nicer local burger joint, we messed his order up, and he’s being totally accommodating about how we fix it. Let’s eat the fifty-cent cost and make him feel good about this.

My manager’s thinking is that we wouldn’t want to lose that twenty-odd cents of SWEET, SWEET PROFIT fixing the guy’s order. We should go out to him with his burger-sauce-covered hands, tell him to dig his wallet out and come up to the counter, and ring through another transaction FOR A F****** DOLLAR. Because we messed up. It costs half our cost of the patty just to swipe his debit card!

If it’s something minor, it was potentially/probably our mistake, and the customer isn’t rude, then f*** it; spending a few bucks a day/hour to keep people happy like that is some of the best and cheapest advertising you can get.

I’m working in a hotel around 1:30 am. A guest comes in to check in, so I get his name, check his ID, and verify his reservation.

Me: “All right, will you be parking with us?”

Guest: “Yes.”

Me: “Okay. Parking is $39 a night, plus tax. Let me get you a parking pass.”

Guest: *With a blank smile* “Is that how much it is?”

Me: “It is.”

Guest: “Oh, I don’t want to pay that.”

Me: “Yeah, I know it’s expensive.”

Guest: “You will take the charges off and let me park for free.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Guest: “I don’t want to pay that. You will let me park for free.”

Me: *Pauses* “Sir, I can’t just let you park for free.”

Guest: “Yes, you can. I don’t want to pay that.”

Me: “Sir, you’re not a loyalty member, and your reservation is just regular with no parking included. Has something gone wrong that you want this as compensation? What’s your reason behind why you want it for free?”

Guest: “I don’t want to pay that.”

Me: “Sir, not wanting to pay for it isn’t a valid enough reason to get it for free. Nobody here would pay if it was.”

Guest: “But I want it free.”

Me: “Sir, so does everyone who parks here.”

Guest: “You cannot give it to me for free?”

Me: “No, sir, I’m afraid not.”

Guest: “Perhaps your manager will give it to me. May I speak to him?”

Me: “Our general manager isn’t here on account of it being 1:30 am, but you’re welcome to talk to him in the morning. I promise he’s going to say the same thing I did, though.”

Guest: “Perhaps.”

Me: *Pauses again* “Until then, shall I set you up with a parking pass?”

Guest: “Yes.”

My manager was unsympathetic in the morning, and the guy did pay.

Parking is outrageously high everywhere in this city, not just at this location. It’s also an internal, gated garage, though there’s an open city lot nearby that costs about the same.

Sadly, I was, in fact, not the droid he was looking for.