(I work at a dollar store where we sell and blow up balloons. We have never blown up latex balloons, only Mylar ones. I’m currently the only cashier in the store and it is my job to ring up customers, as well as blow up the balloons. I’m in the middle of a rush when a lady walks in and comes straight to me, ignoring the line.)

Customer: “I need balloons.”

Me: “Certainly, ma’am. I’ll be with you as soon as I take care of these customers.”

(The lady goes over to our balloon wall, seemingly to decide what she wants while I continue to ring up my other customers. The lady comes back over with a piece of paper.)

Customer: “I need two identical bouquets with these balloons in them.”

(She hands me the list and I see that she wants latex balloons.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. We don’t have the equipment to blow up latex balloons here. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

(She huffs and goes back to the balloon display. I return to my customers, apologizing for the interruption. Again the lady returns.)

Customer: “Okay, I want these silver ones instead of the latex, and I want the weights. Do you have them?”

Me: “Yes, our balloon weights are down the party aisle. You’ll have to pick out two that you like and bring them to the balloon center.”

Customer: *huffs* “Fine. I have to shop so I’ll leave this list with you.”

(I take the list and she leaves. However, my line continues to get longer and I don’t think I’ll be able to blow up the balloons in time, so I call my assistant manager from the backroom to help. She blows up the balloons we have, but informs me that half the balloons the customer wants are not in stock. I finally clear up my line and go to check the boxes behind the balloon center, just to double-check, since we have just gotten a shipment in today, but there weren’t any. A young girl comes up to the counter.)

Girl: “Hi, could you help me with balloons? It’s my mom’s birthday and she’s next door getting her nails done and I want to surprise her.”

(I explain to her that I’d be more than happy to help, but I also warn her that we are out of stock on a lot of balloons. I begin blowing up well over a dozen balloons when the girl points above me and asks for one of the pre-blown ones. It just happens to be one of the balloons that the first customer wanted for her bouquets, but seeing as there is only one and the first lady wanted two, I give it to the girl, not seeing any harm. At that moment, the first customer comes back.)

Customer: “Have you finished my balloons yet?”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, we seem to be out of some of the balloons you wanted. We only had one of the cupcake and—”

Customer: *cuts me off* “So you gave it to her?!”

(She storms off before I can even explain to her that we have other balloons she could have that would match her theme. I just stare at her in shock before apologizing to the girl I’m helping and going back to her order. Later, my manager comes up to me.)

Manager: “What happened before?”

(I explain to him exactly what happened.)

Manager: “Yeah, she came storming up to me complaining that you gave her balloon to someone else. I told her that I’d investigate and she said that there was nothing to investigate. And then she said that she was going to call corporate and complain that I wasn’t investigating.”

Me: “Think this is one for Not Always Right?”

Manager: “Probably. Go take your break.”

(I live in a small town in New Jersey within the New York metropolitan area. My mom works in New York City and commutes almost every day via train. On this particular day, I am tasked with picking her up, so I drive to the station. I am just listening to music in the car when I hear a knock on the window. I turn to see a frantic man holding a cellphone with a popular ridesharing app open. I reluctantly open the window.)

Man: “Are you my ride?”

Me: “What makes you think I am?”

Man: “You’re young and you’re driving a high-class car!”

(I was driving a new Subaru, which although nice isn’t what I’d consider high class.)

Me: “Did you also fail to notice that I don’t have the stickers for [App] on my rear windshield?”

Man: “But [App] says that my driver is here and you’re the only other person here!”

Me: “But we’re in a parking lot. Anybody here could be your ride!”

Man: “So you aren’t my ride?”

Me: “No. I’m sorry for the confusion. I’m just here waiting for my mom.”

Man: “But I’m in a hurry! Can you drive me to [Big City that is close to New York and probably a forty-minute drive excluding traffic]?”

Me: *confused* “What part of ‘I’m not your driver’ do you not understand?”

Man: “I’m in a hurry! Just drive me to [Big City]!”

Me: “Sorry, but I don’t work for that company, so it’d be illegal for me to do business with you.”

Man: “You’re a [Asian slur], and I hope you get fired for being rude and refusing me service!”

(The man then angrily left and walked inside the train station. I was completely baffled that I was mistaken for a taxi driver despite having no indication I worked for a taxi company or the fact that I told him several times I wasn’t a driver. I relayed the story to my mom and she had a good laugh about it. I never saw that man again on any of my subsequent visits.)

(I’m working at the check-in desk for the fitness center of a community center. The center is undergoing renovations which include new ID cards and protocols for members of the center; previously, they would show a membership card to the check-in desk and the attendant would let them in. Now, we need to scan the card to verify that the membership is current. We are told there are no exceptions to this policy, although if a member forgets their card we are allowed to look them up by name to verify the membership. The following exchange occurs after some general niceties; up until this point the customer has been mostly normal and friendly.)

Me: “May I please see your ID card?”

Customer: “Why do you want to see my card?”

Me: “I need to scan the card as part of our updated security procedures.”

Customer: “What if I forgot it?”

Me: “That’s okay; I can look you up by name for today. However, we would appreciate it if you would bring the card in the future.”

Customer: “What if I forget it next time I come in?” 

Me: “If that were to occur, we could look you up by name next time, but we really would appreciate you bringing your card when you use the fitness center.”

Customer: *suddenly belligerent* “NO MAN WILL EVER WANT YOU BECAUSE YOU’RE INFLEXIBLE!”

Me: *stunned*

(My coworker who had been present for the entire exchange jumped in and started explaining that these were the fitness center’s policies, not my personal policies. The following day, we were informed that this member was the exception to the rule and we should avoid requesting his card. This development was made even more strange by the fact that other customers with bad behavior were not handled the same way and were even brought into the membership office for a stern talking-to!)

(I am going for a walk in the park near my home. Due to the lovely day, there are a lot of cyclists who will generally warn you when they are approaching. One cyclist gives me a heads up.)

Cyclist: “To your left. You’re gonna smile!”

(Sure enough, after moving to the side for her and getting a closer look, I notice that sharing her seat is a life-sized plastic skeleton. Sitting back-to-back with that skeleton is another skeleton. This one is wearing overalls and a straw hat and “playing” a banjo. I am highly amused by this and do indeed get a laugh out of it.)

Cyclist: “Told you!”

(I work in a hotel. A dog is barking in a room during breakfast time, and we can hear it in the lobby. A guest — the owner of the dog — approaches me at the front desk.)

Guest: “That barking is putting me off my breakfast.”

(Thinking she’s joking, I let out a small laugh.)

Guest: “Well, what should be done?!”

Me: “Er… I suppose you could go eat your breakfast with your dog, and then it might stop barking?”

Guest: “No! No, that is not my dog. It is someone else’s dog. I want to file a complaint.”

Me: “Ma’am. It’s definitely your dog.”

Guest: “No, my dog doesn’t bark when I leave my room.”

Me: “Ma’am, I don’t know how else to tell you. There’s only one dog staying here. It’s your dog.”

Guest: “MY DOG IS GOOD! SHE DOESN’T BARK FOR NO REASON! THAT DOG IS PUTTING ME OFF MY BREAKFAST AND I WANT YOU TO FIX IT.”

(I started to smile; I couldn’t believe the sheer stupidity of the conversation. She turned around and stomped down the hallway, presumably to “prove” it was not her dog. She got to her room and the barking stopped. I never saw her again, hopefully because she felt like a huge jerk for yelling at me about her own dog. And how exactly does a barking dog interfere with your ability to eat breakfast? I mean, really.)