(I work in a print department inside an office supply store. I am working the closing shift when I have a large family come up to my counter.)

Me: “How can I help you?”

Customer: “How much are business cards?”

(I ask what he does and explain what kind of cards we offer. As I’m speaking with him, I glance down to see he is holding a live chicken.)

Me: “Oh! You have a chicken!”

Customer: *narrows his eyes at me* “It’s a rooster.”

(He promptly turns with his entire family and leaves the store.)

Me: *on the radio* “Um, I just had a business card customer who brought a live chicken into the store.”

Coworkers: “No way!“

(Discussion ensued about what kind of person brings a chicken into ANY store. All I can say is I know have one of the best crazy customer stories!)

(My little sister and I decide to take a Tour of Peru together. We are at the point in the trip where we will spend the next two days in Machu Picchu, the trip highlight. The difference with this part of the trip, which we knew in advance, is that you cannot take large pieces of luggage with you. The train can’t take the weight. Each passenger is allowed a small bag. All luggage is secured at the base of the mountain. We were prepared and have our reduced bags, which are basically overnight bags at best. Only the essentials are here. One of the items I picked was a can of Raid. My sister is very aware of my arachnophobia and my slow gains on conquering it. This is the rainforest we are visiting. Already, at a lower elevation, she has crushed a spider for me big enough I heard it crunch. God only knows what’s up the mountain. We get into the hotel at the top and everything is great. We settle in for the night. I shower at night, so I begin to run the water but let her use the toilet real quick. Turns out… not so quick. As I walk out of the bathroom, I note a crack in the toilet. Since it isn’t leaking, no big deal. Turns out it isn’t a crack. My sister uses the toilet and goes to flush when she screams. Yup, there’s a toilet spider — a spider big enough I thought its leg was a crack. She keeps trying to flush it down — without success — and screaming at me not to enter the bathroom. I remember the Raid and hand off the can. Between the pesticide and the constantly flushing toilet, we conquer the toilet spider. After my shower, I mention the crack I saw.)

Sister: “You saw that thing and let me pee on it?”

Me: “I thought it was a crack in the toilet.”

Sister: “How? I can’t believe you! I sat with my bare butt to that thing. And you let me!”

(We still argue whether I should have warned her or not. The spider also gets bigger with every telling! We loved that trip and all its stories.)

(I’m a veterinary technician, and at times I also cover the phones. I receive a phone call from a pet rescue group asking for information on the previous and current pets of a client who filled out a form to adopt a cat from their group. The client has given us permission to release any information.)

Me: “They’ve previously had two pets with us, and everything looks up to standards; they were up-to-date on vaccinations and neutered and spayed.”

(Usually just this is enough information.)

Woman: “So, they no longer have pets? Did they not take care of them? Did they give them away? Because, you know, I just want to make sure. This is a young couple.”

Me: “Um… They never missed an annual exam, they never refused vaccines or treatments, and it looks like their pets died of generic, age-related illness.”

Woman: “Hmph. I’m just not sure.”

Me: “Honestly, they are as perfect as clients as you can get. They even bought their flea, tick, and heartworm prevention directly from us and never lapsed in giving it, even in the winter. This cat will be going to a loving home.”

Woman: “Well, I think I’m going to deny their application. They just got married, so they’ll probably have a baby soon and then toss the cat out.”

(In hindsight, I should probably have asked for her name and reported her to her superiors. It was six years ago and it still upsets me!)

(I am the customer in this story. I have recently rescued a kitten, named Caboose after a much-loved character in a web series I am obsessed with. The character is known for accidentally causing catastrophes and blaming another character. I am playing with Caboose in my lap next to my phone when I realize that he has been playing with the screen and has called my phone’s support line.)

Support: “Hello, [Company] Support. My name is [Support]; how can I help you today?”

Me: “Uh… hi. Sorry, but my kitten appears to have paw-dialed you guys.”

Support: “That’s okay! Is there anything you needed to ask, anyway, while we’re on?”

Me: “Mm, nope! Caboose just enjoys eating my phone case. Thanks, though!”

Support: *still cheerful* “It’s not his fault. Tucker did it.”

Me: “I love your company now.”

(I work for a farm that specializes in breeding top-of-the-line, big-name miniature horses, and we have quite the reputation around town for having babies every year. This takes place not long after an Amazon Prime commercial airs featuring a mini horse.)

Me: “Hello! Thank you for contacting [Horse Farm]. How can I assist you today?”

Woman: “Hi, I just saw that Amazon commercial…”

Me: *internally* “Oh, boy, here we go.”

Woman: “…and I just thought that little mini was so cute! Do you have anything like it?”

Me: “We have one that is for sale, and similar colorwise.” *gives the basic info on this horse*

Woman: *interrupting me* “Oh, no, no, I meant one that’s little, with the little legs and cute head!”

Me: “Ma’am, with all due respect for that farm, that is a dwarf mini. Dwarfism is a genetic defect in miniature horses and some large breeds that causes bones, cartilage, and organs to grow improperly, and a majority of dwarves spend their lives in pain similar to stuffing your 80-year-old, degenerative arthritic grandmother into a corset that is much too tight. We do not have any dwarves because we do not breed for dwarfism, since it’s considered taboo in the horse world.”

Woman: “Then do you have any horses that have that dwarf gene? Couldn’t you breed them for me and then I’d take the baby?”

Me: *cheerily* “Thank you for considering [Horse Farm] for your next show ring champion. We hope you had a pleasant experience! Have a wonderful day!”

(I found out that two days later, she contacted a horse farm we have a breeding contract with, asking for a dwarf. She was then reported to all the local mini breeders.)

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