(I’m the customer. I am at home, calling a travel agency on the phone. The agent who takes my call sounds middle-aged, with a strong Southern drawl.)

Me: “I’d like to get an estimate on a round-trip ticket to Cape Town.”

Agent: “Cape Town? You mean Cape Cod. That’s in Massachusetts, honey.”

Me: “No. I do not mean Cape Cod. I mean Cape Town. That is in South Africa.”

Agent: “Cape Town?! Who in heck-fire would want to go there? Are you black?!”

Me: *speechless* “Uh…”

(I hang up on her, fume for ten minutes, then call back. This time, someone else answers. I explain that I called a few minutes ago about a flight to South Africa. The new agent on the phone interrupts.)

New Agent: “Yes, ma’am. You’re interested in Cape Town. We all heard what she said, and we are so sorry. She is now in the manager’s office, and I can promise you she will be let go today. I am so, so sorry.”

(She then gave me preliminary estimates, asked for my number, and spent a day researching cheaper go-arounds, such as flying through different connecting airports in Europe, Florida, and South America. I ended up getting a very good price.)

(My wife, our child, and I are in a home improvement type of store getting a paint sample. While it’s mixing, we go to look at microwaves in the appliance department, as we know we will need to replace ours soon. My wife is looking for a specific kind that has an extendable range on it, since our current one [which is mounted over the stove] has a very short range hood on it. We don’t see any that have this feature, so she goes to ask an employee and comes back to where I’m standing, with the employee following. The employee looks to be about middle-aged, not a teenager or young person in anyway.)

Employee: “Extendable range hood… I don’t know what that is. I don’t know that they make something like that.”

(My wife is walking down the row of microwaves and finds one that has the word “Push” listed under the door. The range pops out underneath.)

Wife: “Oh, like this one. This is an extendable range. Do you have anymore like this?”

Employee: “Oh wow… what does this do?”

Me: “It catches the smoke and vapor that comes off cooking food from the stove.”

Employee: “Well, you learn something new everyday. I’m going to say we probably don’t have anymore like this.” *sees our baby in the stroller* “Oh, he is so cute. Look how he smiles.”

Me: “Yeah, he is cute. So, this one has four sensors and this one has seven. Is the extra three sensors worth the hundred dollars more?”

Employee: *still looking at our baby* “My daughter is sixteen, but I remember when she was this age.”

Me: “Great. Anyway, this is a 2400-watt microwave; is there any reason in the world why the average person would want this?”

Employee: “I used to tickle my nephew’s feet when he was a baby.”

Me: *to my wife* “She is not hearing a word I’m saying. Let’s go.”

Me: *to the employee* “All right, we’ll be going now.”

Employee: “My daughter and I are like the Gilmore Girls!”

(She continues to talk while we are leaving the area, and as we continue to get further away her volume gets louder so we can hear her. At this point, we have left the department and are heading back to the painting area.)

Employee: *yelling because of the distance* “Your baby is so cute though!”

(I don’t believe I’ll buy any appliances from her.)

(My five-year-old daughter and her three-member troupe of Girl Scout Brownies are set up selling cookies. It’s been a good morning; they’ve sold quite a few, and the following happens. A gentleman in a business suit stops on his way out of the grocery and states very firmly to my daughter:)

Man: “Little girl, don’t even try to sell me any cookies; I am diabetic. Do you know what that means?”

Daughter: “Yes, sir, I do. My grandma and my daddy are both diabetic and can’t have sugar. But… does your wife like cookies?”

(He stops, and I can see him fighting a grin. He finally breaks and says:)

Man: “Yes. Yes, she does. Two thin mints. Here’s a twenty; keep the change.” *to me* “Mom, here’s my business card; when she gets about 21, I have a job in sales for her!”

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(I work at a restaurant doing carryout. It’s our downtime, so all employees are supposed to help out wherever they’re needed. The girl who’s on the register does not get up to help at all. Mind you, I’m on carryout by myself and five different customers come up all at once. I grab a different coworker to come to help me. While this coworker is taking an order, the phone rings and she puts it on hold.)

Coworker: “[My Name], there’s an order on the phone.”

Me: “Okay, I’ll get it in a minute.”

Lazy Coworker: “Who’d you say it was on the phone?”

Coworker: “[Regular Customer].”

([Regular Customer] always tips.)

Lazy Coworker: “I’ll get it!”

(When [Regular Customer] came to pick up his food, he did not tip! She only helped out to try and get that tip and he didn’t even tip this time! Karma.)

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(I work in the hardware department. This means mostly screws, nuts, and bolts. An older woman come in.)

Customer: “I need a screw that I can bend to hang up a line from.”

Me: “What is the line for?”

Customer: “I want to hang a line to dry some clothes.”

Me: “In that case I can suggest a screw hook.” *I show it to her*

Customer: “No. That’s not what I want.”

(After showing her as many possible screws as I can think of, she gets quite mad.)

Customer: ” NO, I want a screw that you hammer in!”

(Pause.)

Me: “Do you want a nail?”

Customer: *looks me up and down and then says with disgust* “Well, if that’s what you call it!”