(I work in a large kitchen and bath fixture showroom. A customer walks in wanting to check out a shower set.)

Customer: *points at a shower set* “How much is this?”

Me: “Do you know which finish you would like it in? Each finish will be a different price. Also, are you doing a remodel or a replacement?”

Customer: *glares at me* “I want the price of this exact one. And that is none of your business.”

Me: “Great, that is a lovely color choice for that set. Unfortunately, I have to ask that question, because showers are controlled by brand-specific valves in the wall. This shower will not work witho—”

Customer: “I don’t care. What is the price?”

(I tell her the price for the set, explaining that it is a specialty color that needs to be ordered, which should only take a few days.)

Customer: “Yeah, whatever. Write down that price for me.”

(I write down the price and make of the fixtures, as well as the color she is looking at, and hand it to her.)

Me: “Now, I do want to specify that if you do not buy the valves, the shower won’t work.”

Customer: “We all know that is a lie.” *rolls eyes* “You just want more money from us, even though you overcharge.”

Me: “We work off of manufacturing prices here, but each brand really does have their own valve—”

Customer: “Just stop talking. I am really done with your lies. Now, I want this shower. When will it get here?”

Me: “Would you like to order it today?”

Customer: *glaring at me* “Are you stupid? I have my receipt right now.”

(She waves the handwritten paper in my face that is obviously in no way an order form. I never gave any indication that it was. She merely asked for the price.)

Me: “Ma’am, that is just pricing.”

Customer: “What are you talking about now?”

Me: “Ma’am, you asked for a price. What you are holding is a price.”

Customer: “Well, order it then!”

Me: “If you would like to have a seat—”

Customer: “Just order it!”

Me: “Okay, I need a full name and phone number.”

Customer: “Those are private.”

Me: “Um, well, I need to put them in our system. That way, when the order comes in, I have a way to contact you.”

Customer: “That is not true. I order things all the time and they never ask for my number.”

Me: “Ma’am, how else would we be able to contact you when your order has arrived?”

Customer: “I am uncomfortable with your handling my information. I am going to go somewhere else.”

Me:.”…..”

(Two weeks later, I get a phone call:)

Customer: “Where is my order?!”

Me: “Ma’am, you never placed an order.”

Customer: “I have a receipt!”

Me: “Ma’am, you have a price. I asked for your information, but you left before anything could be ordered.”

Customer: “You should have ordered it anyway!”

Me: “Ma’am, no money was put down, so it was not possible for anything to be ordered. Half of the cost must be put down first. You informed me that you were going to order elsewhere.”

Customer: “This is extortion!”

Me: “Ma’am, I never took money from you.”

(The customer hangs up. She came back in three days later, and still didn’t buy anything after another employee informed her she needed to purchase the right valves so that her shower would work.)

I was always a pretty smart cookie when it came to schoolwork, taken honors classes through my grade school years, and even had a couple advanced classes through high school. In my sophomore English class, I had a teacher that both loved and hated how I worked. As I was a proficient and independent reader, and often helped other students with their own work, one would assume there would be no problem with me. Unfortunately, the teacher didn’t agree with my extracurricular reading and drawing when I was done with the assigned work in class.

She gave us a packet of grammar work pages that you’d find in a third grade classroom, as evidenced in plain, bold print on the bottom. She spent about twenty-five minutes reading out the instructions, and I took that time to zip through the packet, seeing as it was basic English. By the time she allowed everyone else to get to work uninterrupted, I was done and decided to draw for the remainder of the class. She took this chance to come up to me, with what I could only assume was the most disapproving look she could muster.

“I’m going to call your father and tell him what you do in class all day!”

Without missing a beat, continuing my sketch with my right hand, I held up the work packet with my left, leafing through the eight pages of children’s work, showing all the complete pages, not a single blank left. With the packet back on my desk, she just walked away and didn’t say another thing to me the entire class.

She never called home, either.

(I’m not very good with children, and quite the science nerd. While visiting my sister, I have this interaction with my nephew, who is five years old.)

Nephew: “[My Name]?”

Me: “Yes?”

Nephew: “Why don’t penguins have teeth?”

(I, not wanting to make anything up, decide to give him a very quick overview of evolution.)

Me: “Well, they don’t need them. You see their ancestors came from really little birds who couldn’t—”

(Out of nowhere.)

Sister: “Their teeth fell out when they stopped brushing them!”

(My nephew gets a horrified expression and RUNS to the bathroom, and immediately starts trying to brush his teeth.)

Me: *incredulously* “That was mean.”

Sister: “It’s called being a mom!”

(I’m working at the customer service desk, and a customer comes to ask a question.)

Customer: “Where can I find a book? I can’t find one anywhere.”

Me: “Um, well, there are books everywhere. You see them everywhere you look.”

(The customer looks all around.)

Customer: “Those aren’t books. Books are those pads you can play games on.”

(It’s my first day of working the front desk at the center. My coworker takes a call, which he puts on speaker so I can hear and learn the appropriate reactions to certain common questions, should they come up.)

Coworker: “Hello, this is the [University Center]. My name is [Coworker]. How can I help you?”

Client: “I need help writing my doctoral thesis.”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, sir, we primarily provide services to undergrad students.”

Client: “But your website says you have someone who does doctorate level work!”

Coworker: “Yes, sir, but he does doctorate level statistics, and does not work in our writing department. He will not be able to assist you in writing your thesis.”

Client: *growing angry* “I just want someone to do the work! I don’t care if he’s in the writing department or not!”

Coworker: “Unfortunately, sir, we are explicitly told not to do work for students, but rather aid them in understand concepts.”

Client: *shouting* “That’s ridiculous! What purpose do you people serve if you won’t even do a doctoral thesis! You’re getting paid aren’t you? You f***ing lazy, useless undergrad s***s don’t even deserve to be here!”

Coworker: *pauses* “Excuse me, sir, let me transfer you to my manager.”

Client: “Please do! Then I can tell them what a f***ing t**t you are!”

(Coworker transfers the call, and then looks at me.)

Coworker: *dryly* “Well, unfortunately for him, I transferred him to an empty desk. [Manager] doesn’t work weekends.”