(I’m at my friend’s bachelorette party, and we’ve headed out for drinks after a day at the spa. We are having a blast, dancing, and drinking. We have all our drinks on one tab. We go to pay up.)

Bartender: “All right, here’s your total. We comped the strawberry lemonades for the two designated drivers, just so you know.”

Club-Goer: *standing nearby* “Wait. They got comped drinks? Why?”

(He is horribly intoxicated, slurring his words, struggling to stay on his feet.)

Bartender: “We always comp the non-alcoholic drinks for the designated drivers to thank them for making good decisions.”

Club-Goer: “I want comped drinks! I make good decisions!”

Bartender: “I’m sure you do, but you’re not a designated driver.”

Club-Goer: “I’m driving myself!”

(As he says this, he hurtles across the floor, pulling his keys out to demonstrate and dropping them on the floor. As he struggles to regain his balance, one of the bouncers picks them up for him and sticks them in his own pocket.)

Bouncer: “Yeah, no. You’re not making that decision. We’re cutting you off and you’re taking a cab home tonight.”

(We added to their tip as a thank-you for keeping the streets safer.)

(I am browsing a clothing store together with a friend. It is winter, and I am looking for a new coat. This store is known for not always having everything folded and arranged, and during the day it can get pretty messy. It is not unusual to see single items scattered across other items.)

Me: *picks up an especially ugly-looking coat and shows to friend* “Unbelievable that someone is paying money for something like this; what was the designer thinking?”

Other Shopper: *snatches coat from my hands* “That is my coat; thanks a lot.” *storms off*

(I went beet red, mumbled an apology, and left the store as quickly as possible while my friend cracked up.)

(I work at a store where, “Yes, we can,” is the policy, meaning we do whatever the customer wants, no matter how ridiculous. The following happens about thirty minutes before close.)

Customer: “White.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “I need white!”

Me: “Miss, I need to know what you need that’s white, and I’ll help you find it.”

Customer: “Shirt!”

(I take her to white shirts in several departments. She doesn’t seem pleased with any of them until we get to juniors. Then, she starts actually saying more than two words.)

Customer: “My horoscope said that all I needed to do was tell someone what I needed and I’d get it. I’m glad you did, because otherwise you’d make my horoscope wrong and then I’d be doomed.”

Me: “Glad I could help.”

Customer: “I want this one! Give me this one!”

(She then thrusts the shirt she’s been looking at into my hands and looks at me expectantly.)

Me: “We can check you out right over there.”

Customer: “NO! YOU NEED TO CHECK ME OUT! MY HOROSCOPE CHOSE YOU; NOW YOU NEED TO FINISH HELPING ME!”

Me: “Miss, I’m a floor associate, and I’m not qualified to check out your purchase right now.”

Customer: “BUT YOU NEED TO! YOU’RE CHOSEN, AND YOU HAVE TO!”

(In order to get her to calm down, I had to call the manager who pulled me off of the floor and had me ring on the only open register while the regular cashier watched to ensure I didn’t mess up her drawer. The customer ended up leaving happy. This is so far one of the weirdest things I’ve had happen to me in the store.)

(I run a stall selling handmade plushies, quilts, scarves, and other knitting projects. As something to draw attention, I have a huge, six-foot, stuffed dragon as the centerpiece on my table, complete with horns, wings, sail, the works. It’s a very complicated piece, and one I’m quite proud of.)

Customer: “Hey, so, this dragon here. My kids would really like it for their room. Where did you get it from?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “Well, I’m not really loving your $600 price tag for it. Wanted to see if I could get it for a cheaper price from wherever you bought it.”

Me: “Erm… I didn’t buy it, sir. I made it, just like I made everything else you see here.”

Customer: “Really? This looks way too high quality to be handmade.”

Me: “I can assure you it is.”

Customer: “Come on. Level with me here. Where did you buy this and can they offer me a better price?”

Me: “Okay, look, sir. I was willing to let your comments slide the first time, because yes, a lot of folk are shocked I can produce such high-quality plushies on my own. I am not, however, going to tolerate your continued insistence that it’s too good to be handmade, nor am I going to humor your desire to be a cheapskate by demanding I provide you with an alternative that will ensure I don’t get any money from you. The price of $600 is based on the cost of materials it took me to make the dragon, its size, the hours upon hours I spent sewing, stuffing, and cutting, and the cost of packaging it up so it won’t get damaged in transit. If that’s not to your liking, then you’re welcome to shop elsewhere.”

Customer: *pause* “How about I give you $300 for it?”

(I pick the dragon off the table and place it in a box behind my chair where it’s out of reach.)

Me: “I don’t think so, sir.”

(The customer scowled and walked off. I later sold the dragon at full price to another family.)

(A customer storms in with a pair of boots and slams them down on the counter.)

Customer #1: “Feet wet, boots Gore-Tex, money back, NOW!”

Me: *looking the boots over* “How long have you had them?”

Customer #1: “A year, but that doesn’t matter… Money back, NOW!”

Me: “Actually, it does.”

(I ask him to follow me to the footwear wall where all our boots are displayed, and I begin explaining to him that Gore-Tex is a one-way valve material in between layers of the footwear. It allows your perspiration to escape in the form of water vapor, but Gore-Tex is not what keeps the outer materials dry. That is a repellent called DWR, and it needs to be renewed at least once a year.)

Customer #1: “You have no idea what you’re talking about, and if you don’t give me my money back right now, I’ll have no choice but to talk with your manager.”

(Just then, another customer looking at footwear chimes in. He is older, with grey hair and glasses.)

Customer #2: “Excuse me. I don’t mean to interrupt… but he’s absolutely spot on with his simplified definition.”

Customer #1: “This isn’t any of your business!”

Customer #2: “Actually, it is. You see… I am one of the scientists who originally developed Gore-Tex. Perhaps you should listen to this gentleman; you might learn how to take care of your boots properly.”

Customer #1: “When I bought these boots, no one told me I had to maintain them.”

Me: “That may be so, and if it is, you have my apologies. Other than the DWR having worn off the outer of the boots, it looks like they still have plenty of life in them.”

(I hand him a can of water repellent from the shelf.)

Me: “By the way, I am the manager… and this one’s on me.”