(I work at a boarding kennel for dogs and cats. Part of the job is walking the dogs — the friendly ones, anyway — once or twice a day. I am walking a big, goofy, friendly black lab at the parking area. A middle-aged woman and a girl of about eight or nine park there and cautiously approach me.)

Me: “Can I help you?”

Woman: “Yes, is the family home?”

(To this day I’m not sure if she didn’t realize that it was a business, but regardless, there is no “family,” just my boss and her husband.)

Me: “The owner is down at the office, and her husband works nights, so he’s likely asleep right now.”

Woman: “Is it all right if I leave some literature?”

(She is holding some Bible tracts.)

Me: “The kennel has a no solicitors policy, and like I said, her husband is probably sleeping and wouldn’t take kindly to being woken up.”

Woman: “Do you go to church?”

Me: “I don’t discuss religion or politics in the workplace, ma’am.”

(This is still true, to this day.)

Woman: “Can I leave these with you?”

(I’m getting annoyed. Fortunately, the lab I’m walking is very excited at the prospect of meeting new people, so he’s really tugging on the leash. The little girl looks like she wants to pet the dog, but the woman looks wary, so I use his behavior as an excuse.)

Me: “He’s getting pretty agitated… Better get back in your car! I’ll get him back to his cage!”

Woman: “Oh, my! Be careful!”

Me: “I’ll try! Have a nice day!”

(The lab and I ran back down to the kennel. I kept an eye out, just in case she tried bothering the boss’s husband, but common sense won and she just left. I don’t bother people about their religions. I might even discuss religion with someone if I was interested. But DON’T force your religion on other people. They’re not interested in handouts or being bothered while they’re working, at home, or otherwise minding their own business.)

(I work in the jewelry department of a well-known retailer.)

Me: “Hello! Can I help you with anything?”

Customer: “Yeah, we’re looking for cheap watches to take with us on a cruise. Our phones won’t work on the cruise.”

Me: “Oh! You may not be able to call out but you’ll be able to still use it for the time and alarms.”

Customer: *looks at me like I’m stupid* “Umm, no. The phone will not work at all. It won’t be able to even turn on while on the cruise. It’ll be outside its coverage area. They told me that.”

Me: “Well. Okay.”

(I work at a local grocery store as a cashier. We sell frozen breakfast corndogs. They’re delicious; they are pancakes wrapped around breakfast sausages. The ends of the box are taped down. But a customer thinks that the box was tampered with when they see the tape.)

Customer: *stares at breakfast corndog box*

Me: “Is something wrong?”

Customer: “Yes. This box was tampered with.”

Me: “I see. Let me get you a new one.”

(I return from the frozen aisle.)

Me: “I just realised, after looking at all the boxes, that all of those have tape on the ends. I still got you a new box since the other one was dented.”

Customer: “That one was tampered with also; that one is taped, too!”

Me: “Ma’am, the box wasn’t tampered with. All the boxes are taped like that.”

Customer: “No, food boxes can’t be taped! I want you to get me an untaped one right now!”

Me: “You don’t understand. That’s just how that company packaged them.”

(A manager hears this back and forth, and comes to my register.)

Manager: “Is something wrong here?”

Customer: “This box of breakfast corndogs was tampered with, and your employee says that it wasn’t, even though it clearly was!”

(I explain the situation that all of the boxes are taped like that.)

Manager: “I’ll check the ones we have in the back, just to be sure.”

(The manager leaves for the back room, and comes back within two minutes.)

Manager: “[My Name] was right. That’s just how they’re packaged.”

Customer: “But food boxes can’t be taped, and the customer is always right! I expect a discount for all of this!”

Manager: “I’m afraid we can’t do that. If you’re so concerned about them, then you don’t have to buy the corndogs.”

(The customer quietly paid for the rest of her groceries, but then started ranting about how she should have been given a discount since we tried to sell damaged goods to her. She kept it up until she walked out the door.)

(Where I work, six of us get the chance to have a “business lunch” on the company’s dime, so we check out a new restaurant nearby. It’s a nice place, a little pricey, but the lunch menu is okay. We all place our orders, and everything seems fine, until the drinks come out and one of us is handed an iced tea.)

Black Coworker: “Um, I ordered the lemonade.”

Waiter: “Oh, sorry about that. Let me fix that right up for you!”

Me: *after the waiter leaves* “Is it bad that the first place my brain went to is, ‘Hey, that guy must have the racist filter on; the one black guy at the table must want the sweet tea!’”

(Everyone at the table starts laughing, including “the black guy,” and we affirm that, no, it WASN’T right but it WAS funny. He gets his lemonade, we place our orders, and eventually the food comes out. Five of us get exactly what we want, including one customized one. Guess what?)

Black Coworker: “Dude, seriously?”

New Server: “What’s wrong?”

Black Coworker: “I ordered the bacon cheeseburger with fries; this is a fried chicken sandwich and mashed potatoes!”

New Server: “Wh… Ah, I’m, so sorry sir, there must have been a mix-up. Let me go get that fixed for you!”

(This time there was no laughing. It also turned out that, no, there wasn’t a swap; that was what the waiter had written down! My coworker had ordered LEMONADE and a CHEESEBURGER, and was given SWEET TEA and FRIED CHICKEN. If everything had been messed up, it wouldn’t have been so obvious, but we definitely made mention of this to the manager before leaving, and my coworker’s portion of the meal was totally comped. At least the food — once it was corrected — was tasty?)

(I’m British but have been living in America for five years. I still have a strong British accent. My wife and I are in Cape May celebrating my 30th birthday, and we’re in a gift shop looking for something to bring home as a gift/souvenir.)

Me: “Hi! I love this mug. How much is it?”

Worker: “Oh, my God, your accent! Are you from England?”

(I get this a lot and it doesn’t really bother me, so I smile and nod.)

Me: “Yup. Been living here a while, though. So, this mug—”

Worker: “Do you know the Queen?”

Me: *laughs* “I haven’t met her, if that’s what you mean.”

Worker: *seeming genuinely disappointed* “Aww. I want to meet the Queen. I bet she’s cool. Oh! Hey! Do you know [Common First Name] and [Other Common First Name]?”

Me: “Uh… I don’t think so.”

Worker: “That’s my cousin and his wife! They live in England, too, in [Town]! Do you know them?”

Me: “That’s way up north, and I’ve never been there, so no, I don’t know them.”

Worker: “Oh. Well, they live at [full address], so if you ever go up there, say hi to them from me!”

Me: “Um… Sure.”

(She went on to ask me endless questions about whether I’d been to certain places she’d heard of or met people she knew. She was friendly, but eventually we left without buying anything because I couldn’t get a word in edgeways to ask about the souvenirs I was interested in!)