When I was growing up, my mother regularly talked about how she hated Pomeranians — “little yappy things,” she called them — and how she hated dogs named Mitzi and would never own one, ever. She had a neighbor when she was young with a vicious little dog that matched this description.

One day when I was about fourteen, I was at a mall with my parents and my mother had gone into a fabric store. My father and I walked into a pet store to kill time, and while we were there, someone brought in a sweet-tempered little dog she wanted to sell.

My father started interacting with the dog and liked it.

Father: “What sort of dog is this?”

Owner: “She’s a Pomeranian.”

Father: “What’s her name?”

Owner: “Mitzi.”

My father lit up like a Christmas tree.

Father: “[My Name], go tell your mother I’m buying a Pomeranian named Mitzi.”

I thought it would be funny to tell her that, so I found her.

Me: “Dad’s buying a Pomeranian named Mitzi.”

I’d never seen my mother look so horrified in her life. She dropped her shopping and stormed off to the pet store. However, by the time we got back, my father had actually bought the dog. My mother stared daggers at him all the way home and said she wanted nothing to do with the dog. 

But within about three days, that dog had my mother totally smitten. She was gentle and mischievous and not at all happy — except when moose came into the yard. The only remainder of her previous insistence was that we were not allowed to call the dog Mitzi but instead called her Mits.

She ended up becoming my mother’s dog until the day she died while out chasing a moose — her favorite activity. My mother ended up with her favorite dog all because it was a breed and name she despised.

I recently transferred to a store in a new state that’s much bigger than my previous store. As a result, this store has more of a “customer is always right” viewpoint than I’m used to. I’m helping a customer pick out some fish.

Me: “Hello! How can I help you?”

Customer: “Hello! I’m looking for an algae eater.”

Me: “All right! And what size tank do you have?”

Customer: “A ten-gallon.”

Me: “And are there any other fish living in there right now?”

Customer: “Yeah, a couple of oscars.”

I freeze. 

Me: “Oscar… cichlids?”

Customer: “Yeah.”

Our cichlids at the BARE MINIMUM need a forty-gallon tank. His tank is just barely big enough to fit ONE.

Me: “Um… I’m not quite sure how to help you, sir. Your tank is very overcrowded at the moment. Maybe a snail could help you clean your tank.”

Customer: “No! I want an algae eater!”

He points to our plecostomus tank. I am not kidding when I say that these fish get two to three feet long. There is no way this fish is going to fit in his tank.

Me: “Sir, I really wouldn’t recommend you doing that. This fish is not going to fit in your tank, and—”

Customer: “I don’t care! Get me that algae eater or I’ll find someone who will!”

I already know that one way or another, the customer is walking out of here with that fish, and I’ll probably get reprimanded if I don’t grab it. I’m polite but cold as I catch the fish and bag it up for him. He leaves as I go work on other chores.

Later, I’m talking to my coworkers about what happened.

Coworker: “Oh, that was him? He complained to me about you. I wouldn’t worry about it; he’s a problem customer.”

I work as a cashier at a popular pet store. A certain cat food that is very popular is having production problems, so we are very short on certain flavors of said food. Most customers understand that this is not our fault, but then there are some like this woman.

Me: “Hi there! Were you able to find what you were looking for today?”

This is a standard greeting I use for every customer I greet at the register.

Customer: *Yelling* “No! I never find what I’m looking for now! And I can’t stand when you all ask that over and over!”

Me: “I apologize, ma’am. I’m required to ask every customer. Are you referring to the cat food shortage? Unfortunately, there is nothing we can do about that as it is the producer that is not shipping us the product.”

Customer: “I don’t care! This is all my cat will eat. You have to get more! I’m sick of not finding what I’m looking for!”

Me: “I apologize again, ma’am, but there is honestly nothing we can do—”

Customer: “Get the manager; this is ridiculous!”

Me: *Thinking* “Gladly…”

The manager comes over. Little does she know, he is a no-nonsense man and does NOT believe the customer is always right. After listening to her rant:

Manager: “So, you want us to somehow force the production company to send us a product they don’t have and can’t make at the moment?”

Customer: “Well, that’s not what I sai—”

Manager: “That’s what you just said to me, ma’am. I was just summarizing for you.”

Customer: “So, I’m dumb now, huh?”

Manager: “Not at all, ma’am. We just can’t do anything for you. Your best bet is to call the production company.”

Customer: “I’ll do that!”

After she snatches her purchases out of my hand, she stomps out. My manager just laughs and shakes his head.

Me: “You know they’re just going to tell her to get bent, right?”

Manager: “Oh, I know, but at least she’ll be on hold for a good hour, though.”

I am at a pet store looking for filter cartridges for my turtle tank. I am thinking about applying here because I love animals and have a decent amount of knowledge. An employee I’ve never met and I start up a conversation about moss balls, and since we’re having such a good conversation, I feel more inclined to ask for an application. Just as I’m about to ask, another customer approaches.

Customer: “Do these-looking fish—” *motions to the betta cups* “—eat the same stuff as the glowy fish?”

Employee: “No… No, ma’am. Why?”

Customer: “D***. My daughter wants these glowy fish now and I don’t want to buy any more stuff. She already has one of those frilly fish and she’s starting to get tired of it.”

Employee: *Hesitantly* “Would you be buying their own tank?”

Customer: “Um, no? They’ll live with the other fish.”

Employee: “Betta fish are aggressive and don’t home well with any other fish.”

Me: “Yes, they’ll kill any fish they’re put with.”

Customer: “How soon?”

Employee & Me: “What?”

Customer: “How soon will they kill each other? Because if I can keep them for a few weeks, that’s fine.”

Employee: “They will fight instantly.”

Customer: “Fine. I can always toss the fish.”

Me: *Fearful* “Like… rehoming them?”

Customer: “I can flush it. Right?”

Me: “Bettas are very nice fish. I’m sure one of your friends would be willing to take him in?”

Customer: *Bored* “Mhm.” *Walks off*

Me: *To the employee* “I was about to ask for an application but I… I don’t think I want to anymore.”

Employee: *Dead inside* “Wise.”

A customer comes in with her dog:

Customer: “I need [item] for my dog. She’s a pure-bred yorki-poo.”

I thought it was a joke initially but realized rather quickly she was very serious about this. I wasn’t going to be the one to tell her.