(A customer comes in looking for some ink for his printer.)

Customer: “I need some ink for [printer model].”

Me: “That printer takes [cartridge models]. You can find them on that shelf there.” *points to cartridges*

Customer: “Okay, but why do they have to call them these funny names? Why can’t they just be called red, yellow, and blue? Anyhow, I need the red one. Is that magenta?”

Me: “Yes.”

Customer: “And so the cyanide must be the blue one?”

Me: *trying not to laugh* “Um… yeah. Yes. The cyan is the blue.”

(We have ordinary trolleys as well as flat-bed trolleys for large items. The flat-beds are supposed to be pulled along as the steering is in the back wheels. We tell customers this when we see them struggling. On this day, my coworker notices a lady heading out of the store having a lot of trouble pushing her flat-bed trolley.)

Coworker: *with a smile* “Those trolleys are a lot easier to pull along behind you, ma’am. The steering is in the back wheels. You’ll find it easier if you spin it around.”

Customer: “No! The customer is always right! I’m so sick of people telling me how to push my bloody trolley!”

(My coworker had not had any previous interactions with this customer, so her outburst was completely out of the blue!)

(I am in the last few lingering weeks of high school and waiting for life to begin. I have a “BFF” who I love with my whole heart; we have experienced so much together over our formative years and thought we’d be besties for all our lives, be each other’s bridesmaids, have kids together, and go and be old ladies in a nursing home together. However, the last couple of weeks, I haven’t seen much of her and she’s been really weird to talk to. I’ve also had her boyfriend — another good friend of mine — on the phone to me in tears because she’s ghosting him, too. I’m working at a cinema taking tickets when who should wander up but my “BFF” and some guy from school, holding hands and giggling together. She looks up and sees me and looks furtive, but says hi and hands me the tickets. The tickets are for an 18+ movie, which she is not; nor is the guy. My mind is racing and my heart is kind of falling apart a bit.)

Me: “Um…”

BFF: *gives me a hopeful “go on” smile*

Me: “Um, I’m going to go and clean somewhere. Why don’t you go for a walk and come back in five minutes when someone else is here?”

(BFF looked surprised but said, “Okay,” and walked off, and I didn’t see them again that night. I don’t know how they bought the tickets without ID, I don’t know why they thought I was going to just smile and let them in, I don’t know why they chose to come to my cinema on a night she knew I was working, and I don’t know if this is a NAW, NAR, or NAWhat. I do know that I never really spoke to her after that — having spent the last five years speaking multiple times a day — and that she broke up with her boyfriend in the next couple of weeks — he found out about the other guy before I could tell him. When you’re a teen you think you have the world sorted out… until you don’t.)

We’re studying Shakespeare in English class, and our teacher divides us into groups and gives us scenes from his plays to perform. My group gets Julius Caesar, particularly the “Friends, Romans, countrymen…” scene. A friend of mine from another group agrees to “play” Julius Caesar’s corpse, hidden under a white sheet. 

We are practising one afternoon in front of the class and I am partway through the massive speech when our teacher decides the rest of the group isn’t acting devastated enough at Caesar’s assassination. He has me start again and joins the others. 

We get to the part again where the Plebeians get angry over Caesar’s death, and our teacher is overly dramatic in pretending to grieve. My friend under the sheet is struggling not to laugh. 

The teacher, noticing the sheet shaking, shouts, “Caesar lives! Ho! He lives!”

This is too much and everyone falls about laughing. Another group has to take over and practice in front of the class while we all compose ourselves.

This story is part of the Talk Like William Shakespeare Day roundup!

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(I work as the manager for a very popular pet shop chain. I am just starting my shift and, since I am doing a Marine Biology degree at university, I like to hang around the fish tanks. This exchange happens minutes into my shift.)

Me: “Hi. Do you need any help there?”

Customer: *blank stare*

Me: “Is everything okay?”

Customer: “You poison your fish, don’t you?”

Me: *taken aback* “Ah, no, we take very good care of our tank. I clean them twice a week and make sure that any ill fish are removed from the tan—”

Customer: “Bulls***, I know you do. That is the reason why my fish died!” *holds up a container with a fish in it*

Me: “When did you buy your fish?” *starting to get angry*

Customer: “I bought the f****** thing last week and now it is dead!”

Me: “You need to stop shouting and swearing or I will not serve you.”

Customer: “GET ME YOUR MANAGER RIGHT NOW!”

Me: “With pleasure.”

(I do a 360-degree spin.)

Me: “Hi there. I am the manager; how can I help you?”

Customer: *mutters* “F****** stupid b****.”

Me: “Pardon?”

Customer: “Look. I need a refund on my fish because it died. Can you do that?”

Me: “Of course. Were there any signs of its death at all?”

Customer: “Well, it was moving its gills and mouth a lot, so I thought it was drowning, so I took it out of the tank and left it out to get some air.”

(Pause.)

Me: “I am not able to refund or replace your fish, sorry.”

Customer: “Why the h*** not?”

Me: “Mainly because you didn’t take proper care of your fish. They are meant to stay in the water at all times. They don’t breathe like we do; they do it by sucking up the dissolved oxygen in the water.”

Customer: “Yeah, they can breathe oxygen. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

(The customer throws the container containing the fish across the store and starts trying to square up with me, wanting to fight me.)

Me: “I am currently studying to become a Marine Biologist, so I do believe that I have some knowledge in this matter. I do request that you leave the store before I call security.”

Customer: “THIS PLACE IS TERRIBLE! EVERYONE DROP EVERYTHING AND LEAVE THE STORE! WHO IS WITH ME?!”

(Everyone keeps shopping.)

Customer: “F*** all of you!”

(The customer ran out of the store.)