(I’ve been the only stocker working at a liquor warehouse for almost a year. I am very familiar with our stock and I know which liquors we have and which ones we don’t. The cashiers are not so knowledgeable about our inventory and nine times out of ten they will need to ask me over the radio whether or not we have a certain liquor in stock for a customer. It is also not uncommon for customers to ignore my answer and to go around asking every other employee in the store if we have a certain liquor after I have already told them that we don’t. I always know when they do this because I will be asked the same question on the radio several minutes later.)

Customer #1: “Hi, do you have [Vodka]?”

Me: “No, we don’t.”

Customer #1: “Really?”

Me: “Really…”

Customer #1: “Okay, then.”

(Five minutes pass and the same customer comes up to me.)

Customer #1: “Hi, do you have… Oh, never mind. I already asked you.”

Me: *slight smirk* “Yeah…” *keeps walking*

(Another five minutes pass and a cashier comes up to me, escorting [Customer #1], who is now accompanied by a [Customer #2], in order to find [Vodka], which I have already made clear that we don’t have.)

Cashier: “Where is the [Vodka]?”

Customer #1: “I already asked him. He said you don’t have it.”

Me: *look of total and complete frustration*

Customer #2: “Ooh, look at his face!”

Cashier: “I know we have it! I’ve seen it in here before. Where is it?”

Me: “We don’t have it.”

Cashier: “I know we have it! I’ve seen it before.”

Customer #2: “Here, I’ll show you a picture.” *pulls up picture of [Vodka] on their phone*

Me: *glances at picture* “We don’t have it.”

(The cashier then takes [Customers #1 & #2] over to the vodka aisle, where she attempts to find [Vodka] which we do not sell. Several minutes later…)

Cashier: *over the radio* “Uh… does anyone know if we have [Vodka]?”

Me: *no response; mind blown*

(The customers left without their vodka.)

(I work at a popular southern fast food joint. We serve dinners that can either come with one or two sides, but two sides cost more. A lady comes up to my register to order. She is talking on the phone to her friend.)

Me: “Hello! Will this be dine in or carry out?”

Customer: “I want a five-dollar two-piece chicken dinner, dark meat, with green beans and mac and cheese.”

Me: “Okay. But will this be dine in or carry out?”

Customer: *talks to friend on the phone*

Me: “Ma’am, dine in or carry out? I can’t put your order into the register unless I press dine in or carry out. Also, getting two side orders makes the price go up. Is that okay?”

Customer: “Did you not just hear me? I told you my order.”

Me: *trying not to lose my patience, I just press carry out* “Would you like anything else?”

Customer: “How much is it?”

Me: “It’ll be $6.59.”

Customer: *gives me her card while continuing to talk on the phone*

(I swipe her card and pack her dinner to go. When I go to hand her the dinner, she turns red.)

Customer: “I told you I wanted this for here! And why the h*** did you charge me $6.59? I ordered the five-dollar two-piece dinner!”

Me: “Actually, you didn’t tell me anything. And if you had been paying attention, I told you that getting two sides makes it more expensive. Two sides aren’t part of the five-dollar deal.”

Customer: “I’m never coming back here ever again. Y’all have the worst customer service ever!”

Me: “You have a nice day, ma’am.”

(I am the manager on duty on an unusually busy Saturday, and have been manning the register and answering calls non-stop. Between me and my associate, we have missed maybe three phone calls. The customer in this story comes in with his son at the tail end of my ten-hour shift.)

Customer: *skipping everyone in line* “What the h*** is wrong with you people?”

Me: *literally turning away from my last customer to face him* “Excuse me?”

Customer: “I’ve been calling all day, and you ain’t once answered your phone!”

Me: “Sir, I’ve answered every phone call I could physically get my hands on. Either you called a different store, or you’re exaggerating how much effort you put into calling.”

Customer: “I always call this store! You’d better not be calling me a liar, you—“

(The phone rings. With quite a bit vindicated satisfaction, I hold up my index finger to silence the man and pick up the phone.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Store]. This is [My Name] speaking. How can I help you?”

Customer’s Son: “Hey, that’s the lady I talked to, Daddy!”

(I turned around so the customer couldn’t see me trying not to laugh at the expression on his face, and my coworker sent him to the back of the even longer line.)

(There’s currently a pretty nasty hurricane slowly making its way across the state. Said hurricane has been on major news networks and late-night talk shows for the past week.)

Caller: “Hi. This is [Blood Charity]. Would you like to donate blood today?”

Me: “You… do know that there’s currently a hurricane going through my state, right?”

Caller: “You’re in [Smallish Town in the middle of the state]? Well, I’m in [City in the western part of the state], so I didn’t know.”

Me: “YOU’RE IN THE SAME STATE!”

(I work in a jail. After some scouring, the Chaplain and I have managed to get together enough gently-used books to update the jail library, including a few movie novelizations. One of these new books, “A Dog’s Purpose,” is picked up by a hardened gang member and career criminal. Later that night, the officers are doing a check in the dorms and find the man curled up on his bunk, crying his eyes out.)

Officer #1: “Hey, you all right?”

Inmate: “I’m all right, CO. I miss my dog.”

Officer #2: “Excuse me?”

Inmate: “My dog, Taco, she’s a little mix breed. My Mama is watching her. God, I miss her.”

Officer #1: “Well, you’re going to court next week, right? Any chance you’ll get out then?”

Inmate: “Yeah, my lawyer said I might get three years probation.”

(Last I heard, the guy did get probation and managed to turn his life around. Seems like everyone who read the book made a change of heart.)