(I work as a cashier. Our system allows for a transaction to run on multiple forms of payment, but the cashier has to hand-key the amounts and methods. If I don’t key it and the customer swipes their card, the system automatically assumes the whole transaction is running through that card.)

Customer: “Can I pay for [item] on one debit card, and the rest on another?”

Me: “Sure thing; I just have to key it in. Wait to swipe your card until I tell you.”

Customer: “Okay, thanks.”

(I begin to type, but I’m only two keys in when she swipes.)

Me: “Oops, can you hit cancel? I need to type in the amount before you swipe.”

Customer: “Sure.”

Me: “All right, don’t swipe until I tell you.”

Customer: “Got it.”

(I begin typing again, and she swipes before I’m done again. I cancel the payment from my keyboard.)

Me: “Ma’am, please. If I don’t type everything in before you swipe, the whole payment goes on that one card.”

Customer: “Oh, okay!”

(I type as fast as I can, but not fast enough, apparently.)

Me: “Ma’am, please hand me your card. I’ll just swipe it over here.”

(I work the overnight shift at a location that has two drive-thru lanes. A young woman pulls up in the drive-thru.)

Me: “Your total is $3.47, miss.”

Female Customer: “Thanks. Could I also pay for the guy behind me? I accidentally cut him off.”

Me: “Of course! That’s so nice!”

(I process her order but have to call a manager since she is using the same card twice. The whole time the guy behind her is revving his engine, clearly irritated. I finally get her the second receipt and the guy behind her suddenly guns it around her and pulls out of the parking lot. Both she and I just sit there, dumbfounded.)

Me: “Well, I guess he really didn’t want to wait. I’ll get the manager to refund that order for you.”

(Kudos to the young girl for being willing to pay for him in the first place and then for being patient so we could refund her. The staff working that night had a good laugh about it.)

(I work as a farmhand, and part of my job description entails operating farm tractors and ATVs. Due to safety regulations, as well as liability and insurance policies, customers are not permitted to ride on the tractors or ATVs. On this particular day, I’m helping customers by taking baskets of tomatoes they’ve left in the field to the storefront, where they can check out. To do this, I need a tractor.)

Me: *driving tractor* “Can I help you guys with anything?”

Customer: “Yeah. Can you pick up our tomatoes, please?”

Me: “Sure, I’ll go and get them.”

(I drive off, and the customer starts yelling. I stop the tractor.)

Customer: “Can I get a ride?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir; it’s against our safety rules.”

Customer: “Come on, just a little one? I’ll tip you extra if you do.”

Me: “I’m sorry; I can’t. You might get hurt.”

Customer: “But it’s so slow.”

(I walk around to the fender of the tractor, and I point to a sticker that says “DANGER: Riders can fall off and be killed or seriously injured.”)

Me: “Sir, can you please read that for me?”

Customer: “’Danger: riders can fall off and be killed or seriously injured.’”

Me: “That’s why I can’t give you a ride.”

Customer: “I’ll hold on!”

Me: “What if you lose your grip?”

Customer: “Where’s your boss?!”

Me: “He’s inside the store.”

(The customer storms off to the store while I help other customers. A short time later, the customer and my boss walk out to where I am.)

Boss: “Hey, [My Name]. Can you come over here, please?”

Me: “Sure.” *I walk over to him and the customer*

Boss: “This customer tells me you won’t help him.”

Me: “I told him that I won’t give him a ride on the tractor, but I’ll be more than happy to pick up his tomatoes.”

Boss: “Okay, I just wanted to clear that up.” *turns to customer* “Sorry, but we can’t give customers rides. It’s not safe.”

Customer: “But it’s so far!”

Boss: “Again, [My Name] will be more than happy to help you.”

Customer: “What kind of a place is this?! You people are stupid!”

Boss: “Where do you work?”

Customer: “I work at [Construction Company].”

Boss: “Would you let your kids play with a backhoe?”

Customer: “No, that’s dangerous!”

Boss: “Yeah, go figure.”

Customer: “But this is different!”

(I’m at a music summer camp. While leaving one of the nightly concerts, I see a girl, who I recognize as a French horn player from my orchestra program, on the ground, and a staff member next to her. I quickly realize that she is injured. As I’m walking over to ask if she’s okay, I hear her listing where she’s hurt.)

Girl: “Both knees… uhh… oh! And my elbow.”

(The staff member next to her shines her phone’s flashlight around, and I see that her knees are both scraped and bleeding. I don’t see her elbow.)

Me: *reaching her* “Hey, are you okay?”

Girl: “Ah, yeah! …Probably.”

(Seeing my discomfort with that answer, she proceeds to wiggle her fingers and put weight on her left hand, then looks back up at me.)

Girl: “Oh, yeah, I can still play.”

(Note that she didn’t check her knees at all or mention how she was, outside of playing horn. Well, good to know she had her priorities straight.)

(One coworker and I are finishing up working a dinner at a country club with a dozen adults who have been drinking and very needy all evening.)

Customer: “Thank you both so much for your help this evening; you were absolutely wonderful, and so kind to us!”

(The customer hugs both of us as the party is leaving. After cleaning up the tables, my coworker picks up the check.)

Coworker: “Guess how much their bill was?”

Me: “I’m afraid to ask.”

Coworker: “$1,017.”

Me: “Oh, my gosh! What did they tip?!”

Coworker: “Nothing. At all.”

(I suppose some people think that a “thank you” is enough for servers who live off of tips, even if that was the only group my coworker and I were able to serve all night.)