(My mother and I are out shopping and she wants to pick me up the new game for Christmas to be sweet. I, in turn, have just purchased her a nice bottle of wine, which I am holding in a state bag. We go to [Video Game Store]. A woman and her son, who is around 16, are in line in front of us. The cashier is male and probably 20 years old.)

Son’s Mom: “I want to buy the new [Grand Theft Auto] game for my son.”

Cashier: “Oh, sick, man. It’s rated ‘M’ for nudity and violence, though. Like, you get to go to strip clubs and stuff!”

Son’s Mom: “I didn’t know that.” *to her son* “Did you know that?”

Son: “Yeah, that stuff is kind of part of the franchise.”

Son’s Mom: *shrugs and buys the game*

Cashier: “You’ll definitely enjoy it, man!”

My Mom: “Hi, I would like to buy this game.”

Cashier: “Are you buying it for her? It’s rated ‘M’ and there’s a bit of female nudity and violence. I really can’t recommend it to someone under 17.”

My Mom: “It’s a good thing that she’s never seen female nudity or violence in her 23 years she’s been alive.”

(A local pizza shop is known for their creative specialty pizzas, and normally have ten or so in a display case to be sold by the slice; because the selection is always changing, it’s common for customers to ask what any given pie is. On my walk to the shop today, it started to snow.)

Me: *walks up to the counter, pointing to a pie* “What’s this?”

Employee: *lists toppings*

Me: *pointing to a different pie* “What’s this?”

Employee: *lists toppings*

Me: *pointing out the window at the falling snow* “There’s white things in the air…”

(The employee looks at me strangely. The gears are turning, but the light bulb hasn’t quite come on yet.)

Me: *pointing to a third pizza* “What’s this?”

Employee: *lists toppings*

Me: “There’s pizza everywhere…” *points to one last pie* “What’s this?”

(At this point, the light bulb went on and the employee burst out laughing… realizing that while I’d gotten two of the lines reversed, I did indeed just run him through the first couple stanzas of “What’s This?” from “The Nightmare Before Christmas.”)

(While working at a popular book and music retailer, I meet a customer who is looking for a particular Christmas CD.)

Customer: “Do you have the latest Manchester Stovepipe CD?”

Me: “Manchester Stovepipe?”

Customer: “Yeah, they’re like a modern orchestral group.”

Me: “Do you mean Mannheim Steamroller?”

Customer: “Yeah! That’s it… but how’d you figure out Mannheim Steamroller from Manchester Stovepipe?”

Me: “I want to know how you got to Manchester Stovepipe from Mannheim Steamroller!”

Customer: “Good question.”

Me: “Right this way.”

(I’ve just gotten up for the morning when my mom storms up to me.)

Mom: “Before you do anything, go back upstairs and shave your legs!”

(I look down at myself. Not only do we not have a formal occasion that necessitates me wearing a dress coming up, but I’m wearing long pants that don’t show my legs at all. Aside from that, my leg hair is barely visible on my legs, because it’s so light.)

Me: “Uh, why?”

Mom: “Just do it!”

(She’s standing at the bottom of the stairs and won’t let me pass, so I just relent and go do it, even though I really don’t like to outside of special occasions. After I’m done, I come back down and ask her again why it was so urgent.)

Mom: “Certain family members complained about it.”

Me: *for a second, I just stare at her, until it sinks in that she’s really serious* “Certain family members need to mind their own freaking business. More importantly, who complained?”

Mom: “You don’t need to know!”

(To this day, she still won’t tell me. Thank God, it hasn’t happened again, but now I go out of my way to not shave my legs if I can help it. I can’t wait to move out.)

(It’s about seven pm on Thanksgiving night. A customer approaches my register with a cart of college t-shirts. As I ring them up and say the price ($4.99) she stops me.)

Customer: “Excuse me! Those are 50% off!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. They are ticketed $10 and the sign says 50% off the ticketed price. That is why they are $4.99.”

Customer: “I don’t think so. They should be 50% off the price on the sign! I want to go look!”

(She walks over to the section and storms back to my register.)

Customer: “Scan all of them! I don’t believe you!”

(I scan all 20 of them one by one, each coming up $4.99.)

Customer: “Here, I don’t want these few.”

(She throws about five onto the register and I hastily put them to the side.)

Customer: “Ring me up for the rest of these.”

(I’m very flustered at this point. I’m still new to the job, and I take an audible deep breath.)

Customer: “Are you getting annoyed with me?”

Me: “No, ma’am, I’m just very flustered; it is Thanksgiving night, it has been very busy, and I only started a few weeks ago.”

Customer: “Well, tough s***! It’s your job to be annoyed. And you can’t do anything about it.”

(I rang her up in silence, completely baffled by her attitude. She left and I had to walk away from the register, it was so upsetting.)

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