(A woman and her little girl want to buy two sodas and chips. This woman is making her child pay for the transaction with quarters. It’s not too big a deal. The total is $4.24, and the little girl gives me $4.00 in quarters. The mom picks up the chips and soda and begins to walk out the door. I get her attention.)

Me: “Ma’am, I still need one more quarter.”

Customer: “I know; I’m getting it.”

Me: “Well, product is not allowed to leave the store until fully paid for.”

(The lady stands outside the door for a minute and then comes in again. She approaches the counter and gives me a dirty look.)

Customer: “Did you put the money in the till yet?”

Me: “No, the transaction is not complete yet.”

Customer: *takes her money* “Give me my money back, then. I will not buy from you. You were rude to me!”

Me: “Okay.”

(I put the merchandise behind the counter and told my manager about it, and she started laughing. Stating company rules does not make me rude; it protects my store. It isn’t hard to cooperate and follow simple rules.)

(I work for a store in a well-known chain of drug stores. I am working the front register when a customer comes up and puts down a small bag of nuts and a drink. I have a habit of asking if they would like a bag if their purchase is small or it looks like it will be eaten right away. I ask because we don’t have small bags, just the regular-sized grocery bags. Most customers don’t want to deal with a bag in this situation.)

Me: “Would you like a bag for this?”

Customer: “Well, it’s more than one item, so yeah. Wouldn’t you say?”

Me: *smiles, thinking she’s joking* “You don’t have to have one; it’s really up to you.”

Customer: *straight-faced* “No, it’s not. It’s your job.”

(I bag her items, a little stunned. I’d never had anyone demand a bag.)

Me: “Here you go. Have a nice day!”

Customer: *takes her bag and leaves without saying a word*

(I found out later that the same customer called to complain about me, and claimed I refused to give her a bag. My manager is cool and just laughed it off. I wonder what that customer would do in places like California where, due to a ban on plastic bags, they don’t ever give you a bag!)

I work in a midway arcade. Most of the time, I get assigned to run a game booth, and a few times I have had to run the treasury where you redeem tickets.

This night I am sent to Viking, a water gun racing game. I have to kick the foot pedal in front of the gun that’s being used, then press a button to turn on the water. The water is sprayed into a target, and little viking ships come down.

It’s a pretty easy game, and usually not too much hassle. Among our prizes are emoji pillows, including poop ones and yellow faces with various expressions. I do get the best laugh from a really corny joke. A woman plays twice with her son. The boy gets a yellow face, and she takes a poop emoji.

After second game, she says to me, “I can’t wait to sleep on my piece of s*** tonight! Not my husband, my pillow.”

(I work as a groomer in a large pet retail store that also offers grooming services. One day, a woman comes in with a Pomeranian. She shows me a picture of the same dog with a slightly different cut.)

Customer: “I want my dog to look like this but with two differences: don’t touch the feet — I like the ‘Grinch’ feet — and don’t touch the mane.”

(The cut is very simple so I agree. We fill out the paperwork with the exact details, and she signs it and leaves. When the dog is done, I call her. She returns, and has obviously been to the gym because her hands are taped up like a boxer. I go to get the dog, and as I am walking out, I notice that there is a small patch of stray hairs that I missed when trimming his tail. This happens from time to time and is a simple fix.)

Me: *to my coworker* “Hey, can you get these stray hairs I missed on his tail while I hold him?”

Customer: *in an inhumanly high-pitched voice* “WHAT THE F***?! WHAAAAAT THE F***!? HOW COULD YOU CUT HIS TAIL?”

Me: “Ma’am, the instructions sa—”

(She starts clenching her taped-up hands and shaking them.)

Customer: *not so high-pitched or crazed* “How could you… Wh… Wh… Why would you cut his tail?”

Me: “I’m sorry; it is standard practice unless we are specifically asked not to.”

Coworker: “Pomeranians usually have their tails trimmed during grooming.”

Customer: “But he’s not an ordinary dog, and we have pictures tomorrow. Now we can’t…” *again with the banshee scream* “WHAT THE F***?! I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS. I… CAN’T BELIEVE THIS! THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS!”

(This goes on for several minutes and by this time, it has drawn a crowd of people from all over the store to stare through the glass doors and see what’s going on. My coworker and I finally calm her down and she leaves. We are both dumbstruck and start discussing it. I have my back to the door.)

Coworker: “She’s coming back.”

Me: “Don’t even try—”

Coworker: “No, I’m serious. She’s coming back.”

(I prepare myself and turn around as the customer is walking in. I don’t even get a word out.)

Customer: *extremely happy and friendly* “Other than the tail, you did a great job!”

(She puts a $20 tip on the counter and walks out.)

Me: “Whatever she took when she went out to her car, I want some.”

(My father and I are customers in this story. He and I are running errands and stop into a local paint shop looking for a particular type of wood stain. We make our selection and make our way to the registers. Just as we reach the counter, a woman rushes up with a handful of items — rollers, trays, etc. — and drops them on the counter. One of the items she’s placed on the counter is a gallon of clear wood sealant, the packaging of which has “TRANSPARENT VARNISH” in large block letters.)

Woman: “I need to return this. I put two coats of this on my front deck and it doesn’t look like I’ve done anything!”

Cashier: “Well, you only really to apply one coat of this.”

Woman: “I know! But I put this on my deck, and it doesn’t look like I’ve changed anything! It still looks the same!”

Cashier: “Well, it’s clear varnish.”

Woman: “Well, can I exchange this for something darker?”

Cashier: “Um… Sure.”

Woman: “Here, I’ll show you.” *starts scrolling through her phone* “I know you believe me, but it doesn’t look like I’ve done anything after putting this on.”

(By that time, my father and I had purchased our wood stain and left the store. We laughed for a good ten minutes about the whole exchange. If she purchased transparent wood sealant, what did she think was going to happen? Was she expecting the clear varnish to turn her deck black?)