(I’m a cashier at a dollar store. Two teenagers, who have been causing a bit of a ruckus, finally check out.)

Teen #1: *pointing to a chocolate bar* “That’s a dollar, right?”

Me: “Yes.”

Teen #1: *pointing to another chocolate bar* “And this is 50 cents, right?”

Me: “No… it’s a dollar. Your total is $3.50.”

Teen #2: “So, it’s not all a dollar! You’re cheating us!”

Me: *sighs* “There are mandatory taxes on these products.”

Teen #1: “I’m under 18. I don’t pay taxes.”

Me: *not having time for their games* “Pay or I’ll get my manager.”

(They paid without protest and left. Whose life is so sad that they have to go and bug people working in a dollar store?)

(What some people don’t realize is that if you look at the fine print of coupons, it will tell you how many of that coupon you can use per purchase. Many people overlook this and try to use as many as the can to pay basically nothing for a little more pricey items like medicine. I’ve noticed the same group of customers doing this every time medicine in my store goes on sale. My managers start telling us to look over the coupons if customers have multiple of the same item. Today I decided to let them know we are on to what they are doing.)

Me: *scanning the last of the cold medicine* “Okay, your total is now [price].”

Customer: “Oh, I have coupons.” *hands over a stack of coupons*

(I am on an express lane and even though she only has sixteen items, one over the amount allowed on the line, the customers behind her groan at the sight of the coupons.)

Me: *starts reading the coupons to see which can be used* “Okay, it looks like you can only use multiples of this coupon for [Item #1]. The rest you can only use one.”

Customer: “But I have four of each and have four coupons for them. I should be able to use all of them!”

Me: “If you look at the bottom it says you can only use one per purchase. The others say the limit is one, while the coupons for [Item #1] can have four be used in one purchase.” *shows her the small print on each*

Customer: “Right, per purchase. Meaning I can use four in this one.”

Me: “Ma’am, it says clearly you can only use one. If not, you would be paying a few cents for four boxes of medicine.”

Customer: “What do you know?! Just scan my coupons!”

Me: “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

Customer: “I want your manager, now!”

(It is a busy afternoon and she won’t hear anything till I get a manager. I flash my light and a manager comes over. Now, mind you, he is a really nice guy but can be stern when customers try something like this, and always gets frustrated when they just leave after we refuse to scan them all.)

Manager: “What’s wrong?”

Customer: “She is refusing to scan my coupons! I have four for each and the right amount of items!”

Manager: *sighs, too tired to deal with her* “Ma’am, it says clearly in the coupons you can’t use it. You have a long line behind you and my cashier has told you already that we can’t scan them. We’re tired of having people come in and try to pay next to nothing for items. Now, either accept that fact and pay, or let me void the transaction and leave.”

(The look on her face when he denied her the coupons was hilarious. My manager voided her order per her request and she only bought the item with the multiple coupons that were allowed. After she paid, I quickly went through my line and was finally allowed to take my hour-delayed break. I later found out she went to one of the owners of the store and complained, but they just repeated to her what both I and my manager said. I hope this helps some people realize that you really need to read your coupons. The print is there for a reason, after all.)

When I was young, we always had family get-togethers at our house, which at the time I was told was because we had the biggest house and yard. While that was true, others had houses that were at least big enough to accommodate everyone. It wasn’t until I was around twelve that I found out the real reason: of all the “local” family members we were the only ones that apparently knew HOW to host a party. My grandmother wasn’t physically up to it, which was understandable; my one maternal aunt and uncle lived in a small apartment; and the in-laws were always so busy they’d only ever want to just order catering when the rest of us preferred home-cooked.

Then there was my OTHER maternal aunt, who whenever (for instance) we were grilling, would always insist on getting her burgers “well done.” Come to find out her idea of “well done” was what the rest of us called “complete charcoal.” The fateful day was when she and my uncle got a new grill and invited just us over to help test it out, which I was all for but my parents, not so much. We get there, and they already have the grill going and all the burger on it. No hot dogs, no chicken, no veggies, no anything else, JUST hamburgers. Okay, I think to myself, it’s a new grill so they’re playing it safe.

Then I tried to remind my uncle, who was doing the cooking, that I liked my burgers cooked rare. “No.” Yeah… So, not only did they like to completely overcook their food, they wouldn’t NOT overcook anyone else’s, even on request! The buns they got were ultra-cheap and had the texture of packing peanuts, and they wouldn’t even allow us proper CONDIMENTS, just a small dollop of ketchup in the middle of the bun and that’s it. Because that’s how they liked it, so that’s how everyone was going to eat it.

They never understood why none of us looked as thrilled with the dried out, burnt, flavorless meat-pucks as they did. They also didn’t get why we never went back to a cook-out at their place, or let my uncle anywhere near the grill at ours.

(I am living back home with my mother after my divorce. Our bedrooms are right next to each other, and we have our own TVs. I’m a horror buff, while she prefers crime dramas — CSI, Law & Order, etc. — and shuns anything remotely gory. This exchange happens as we’re shouting to each other between rooms.)

Character On Crime Drama: “The victim was eviscerated…”

Mom: “Hey, [My Name], what does ‘eviscerated’ mean?”

Me: “Gutted like a fish!”

Mom: “Okay, thanks!” *changes channel quickly*

(I stop into a fast food place and order a combo meal that comes with, among other things, a medium drink. I then get handed a cup, and I stare at it for a moment.)

Me: “Uh, excuse me… Isn’t this a small?”

Cashier: “Yeah.”

Me: “Right… but I ordered the [meal] which comes with a medium drink.”

Cashier: “We’re out.”

Me: “You’re… you’re totally out of medium cups?”

Cashier: “Yeah, lots of folks ordered.” *takes a tone like he’s talking to a child* “You really should have come earlier.”

Me: “Right. Then am I getting a refund?”

Cashier: “For what?”

Me: “I ordered a medium drink, and you gave me a small. So, either I get something else to make up the difference, or I get some of my money back.”

Cashier: “Oh, just take the d*** soda!”

Me: “How about you get the d*** manager, instead?”

(The cashier huffs and disappears into the back. Eventually, someone comes up with my tray of food, and I ask if they’re the manager. Nope. The cashier has just up and vanished without telling anyone. Eventually, the actual manager comes up.)

Manager: “What’s the problem, sir?”

Me: “I was told you’re out of medium drink cups after I ordered, and—“

Manager: “What?” *calls to someone in back* “Hey, [Employee], grab another box of medium cups from the supply room!”

Me: “Are you saying he was just too lazy to even ask someone to restock?”

Manager: “Apparently. Sorry about the trouble; this isn’t the first time he’s been lazy.”

(The manager then handed me a large cup and insisted I take it. Honestly, I would have been happy just getting what I ordered, but hey, bonus soda. While I was eating I suddenly heard a lot of shouting in back, and after a minute the cashier went storming out, cursing up a storm and throwing his hat and apron around. Might not have been his first time being lazy, but I guess it was his last!)