(I have just purchased an outdoor area rug. I wheel it out to my Kia Soul and am just opening the hatch when I hear a loud, mocking voice say:)

Person: “She doesn’t really think she’s going to get that in that dinky car; does she?”

(I can see that the couple has stopped their car to watch with amused expressions. Without seeming to notice them, I tip the rug from the cart, get a grip on it, say loudly:)

Me: “Yes, she does!”

(And then I tossed the rug in, where it fit perfectly. The mocking couple were slack-jawed and stunned. I admit it; that felt wonderful!)

(I am working in a large and well-known store when I am approached by a customer.)

Customer: “Do you sell power cords for stoves?”

Me: “I don’t believe so, but I would ask in the hardware department, just to be sure.”

Customer: “Is that where the guns are?”

Me: “No, that would be sporting goods.”

Customer: “All right. Also, do you cut keys here?”

Me: “Yes, in the automotive department.”

Customer: “Is that where the guns are?”

Me: “…”

(I am running the frontline, rolling burritos for customers, when a family comes up. Of the five, four are very quick to order and get rung up. The fifth, the mother, takes the time to ask how everything is prepared before asking for it on her burrito. Assuming she might be somebody from corporate, I explain, to the best of my knowledge, how the food is made. She gets to the end of the line and asks:)

Mother: “Do you have any guacamole?”

Me: “Yes, we do. Would you like some?”

Mother: *disgusted look on her face* “Do you have any guacamole that’s without any avocado?”

Me: *puzzled* “No, our guacamole is made with avocado.”

Mother: *clearly getting frustrated* “Well, can you go look in the back?”

Me: “Ma’am, we don’t have any guacamole that is made without avocado. I mean, guacamole is, like, 90% avocado, so maybe you’re thinking of something else?”

(I try to stay patient, especially since a line is building behind her.)

Mother: *glaring* “How would you know how guacamole was made? You aren’t in the kitchen, so it’s not like you know how to make any of this food!”

(To humor her, and to finish her order so I can tackle the growing line, I go through the swinging doors to the kitchen, count to ten, and return.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. We don’t have any guacamole back there without any avocados.”

Mother: “That’s okay. I don’t mind having avocado in my guac, anyway; can I get some?”

(I finished her order and passed her onto the cashier. I couldn’t be any happier to see a customer leave.)

(A customer comes through my line with a young child. I just started the order and she hands me two boxes of fruit snack variety packs.)

Customer: “I don’t want these. They say, ‘No artificial flavors,’ and I thought that meant no artificial colors. That’s kind of a weird thing to put on a box.”

Me: “Well, not really.”

Customer: *handing me a bag of M&Ms* “Can you scan these real quick? They’re open.”

Me: “…”

(She had another large bag of M&M Minis in her order. I guess she thinks they come in those colors naturally?)

(I work in the pharmacy of a regional grocery chain. We require the person picking up a prescription order to give us the patient’s name and date of birth; if they don’t give us the date of birth, we cannot release the prescription order to them. I am doing my scheduled counter rotation when a baby boomer who looks like a redneck Santa approaches. He is talking away on his cell phone.)

Me: “Hi there. Picking up?”

Customer: *pulls his phone away from his face* “Yeah I’m picking up for my mother-in-law. Wife’s after me to get this stuff.”

Me: “Sure thing. What’s her name?”

Customer: “Her name is [Mother-In-Law].”

Me: “And her date of birth?”

Customer: *scoffs* “I don’t know. She’s my mother-in-law. I don’t pay attention to that s***.”

Me: “Unfortunately, our system requires we enter the patient’s date of birth to help prevent prescription theft.”

(The customer quite literally turns very red. I steel myself for an angry tirade.)

Customer: “This is bulls***. Simple mother-f*****…” *storms off, ranting and raving to his wife*

Boss: “[My Name]… what was that all about?”

Me: “He didn’t react very well to me telling him I needed his mother-in-law’s birthdate to release her meds to him.”

Boss: “He was on the phone with his wife, wasn’t he?”

Me: “Yep. Don’t know why he didn’t just ask her.”