Things are really picking up during seasonal time, and there’s just a cashier, my manager on duty, and me working. Since our store needs to always have a worker on the sales floor, I am left to deal with a steady line by myself. This is not too bad. I just apologize, explain that we’re unstaffed, and thank them for waiting.

That is until this lady comes up with a long receipt.

Customer: “I bought all these T-shirts, and I want to return them and apply my teacher’s discount to them.”

Our store has special discounts, and a discount for teachers is one of them. I look to see if she has a bag or anything.

Me: “Do you have the shirts with you, ma’am?”

Customer: “No, they’re all at my house.”

I can still do a return since she has the receipt and all she is doing is applying her discount on it, but since she doesn’t have the shirts, the way our system works, I’ll have to key in each UPC code for each shirt. Luckily, I can make it go faster by grouping the same codes for shirts together, but it is still a long receipt with twenty to thirty shirts, and the line is piling up, so I radio [Manager] and ask her if there is an easier way I can do this, and she says that, sadly, this is the only way to do it.

I warn the customer that I have to key in all these UPC codes to do a return on the shirts and then they will have to be repurchased, and she says that’s okay. The line is getting so long that [Manager] decides to just screw it and jump on a register because this return and repurchase will take forever.

I start to key in UPCs, using my quantity code to make it faster for the same size and colour of shirts she bought.

Customer: “So, how long is this going to take? I’m in a rush. Do you really have to key all those in?”

Me: “Yes. Since you don’t have the shirts here for me to actually scan, sadly, I have to type in all the codes for them.”

Customer: “And how do I repurchase them? Do you have to do all that again?”

Me: “Yes, I do, unfortunately.”

She is getting very irritable, and it is actually time for me to go since the closing crew had arrived, but they are jumping on other registers to get the line taken care of so [Manager] can get off the register. I ask if someone can take over, but all the closers are new seasonal hires and they had no clue how to do a return like this, so I have to truck on.

Customer: *Getting frustrated* “I don’t have all day to stand here waiting for you to put in all these codes! When I go to [Other Store], they can do returns without having to have the product physically there! I’m not dragging all these shirts around with me!”

I get on my radio and ask for [Manager] to come over.

Manager: “What’s up?”

Customer: “I don’t have all day for her to be putting in all these codes just so I can get my discount applied on them. I don’t drag my shirts around with me; I have them at home! I’m in a hurry! I can’t stand here all day wasting my time with this.”

Manager: “Since you don’t have the shirts here for her to scan, this is the only way she can do it. Also, she has to go home.” *Turns to me* “What did you get keyed in?”

Me: “Anything I have highlighted here I have keyed in.”

I handed [Manager] the customer’s receipt and quickly left to clock out.

I felt bad that [Manager] had to deal with this return, but I was fighting back the urge to say, “Well, we’re not [Other Store]”. Also, I don’t know why you would make yourself pressed for time when you’re returning a crap ton of product and don’t bother bringing the product in to make it easier. Even just bringing one of each shirt she’d bought would have been easier!

I work in tech support.

Me: “IT support, this is [My Name].”

End User: “Hi. I keep getting these annoying pop-ups on my screen every time I press the caps lock key. And when I press caps lock again, it pops up again telling me I’ve turned off caps lock. This is really distracting.”

Me: “Does the message stay on your screen or does it go away?”

End User: “It disappears after a few seconds.”

Me: “That’s normal behaviour; it is there to ensure that you realise it’s on so you don’t accidentally type a password in the wrong case and lock your account.”

End User: “Oh, that’s so annoying. When I’m typing an email, it is continually coming up. It is so distracting.”

Me: “Have you tried using the shift key instead?”

End User: “The shift key? That one doesn’t do anything. You press it and nothing happens.”

Me: “You need to keep the shift key pressed and then press the letter you want to have in uppercase. Then you let go and continue to type lowercase.”

End User: “Hmm, well, that’s weird. I dont know anyone who does it. I’ll try it for a while, but it seems terribly inconvenient.”

Sigh… I’ve not had to explain to anyone how to use the shift key before. That’s a new low for me. This was not a stupid person; this person has just started their five-year Ph.D. in cancer research.

I have an emotional support cat. Her name is Alice, and she is the cutest, fluffiest, best senior kitty ever and has the softest meow that you can barely hear unless she really wants or needs you to. I have her because I get really bad anxiety attacks to the point where I’m completely unresponsive, I don’t talk, move, or respond in any way, and I just sit staring off into space crying and shaking. Alice has always helped me through them. She knows the signs of me starting to get an anxiety attack and rubs up against my hand or face to distract me. I usually get the worst anxiety attacks in crowded, hot, and loud spaces or on long car rides and on planes but occasionally need her just out in public.

I went on a trip to Florida with my dad, but we couldn’t get seats next to each other on the airplane for some reason, so I got stuck sitting next to a middle-aged woman. Throughout the entire flight, she constantly berated me with questions about my cat. They weren’t the usual “How old is she?” or “What’s her name?” questions. They were questions like “Why do you have that?”

After I explained that I needed her for emotional support, the woman asked way more questions and made many unnecessary comments.

Woman: “You don’t look like you need her. You just wanted your pet on the flight, didn’t you?”

The flight I was on actually allowed pets as long as they were in their carriers, but Alice was outside and on my lap to comfort me as that had been an especially hard morning.

Woman: “You’re obviously a delinquent and aren’t new to breaking the rules.”

That was probably because I have piercings, dyed hair, and a couple of tattoos.

At one point she even told me:

Woman: “You don’t really need that cat. Put it away before I take it from you!”

She faked sneezing and coughing to get the flight attendants to make me put her away, but they didn’t — because she was wearing her emotional support animal vest, meaning that I need her. People around me were asked if they had any allergies to cats. The woman next to me was not one of the people who did. They told the woman that they could move her to a different seat if she was allergic or uncomfortable, but she declined, even though it would have been much easier for everyone involved.

At one point, I think Alice might have sensed that there was something wrong with me; I was visually uncomfortable and holding onto her tight because of the threat this woman made to take Alice from me. She meowed — not directly at the woman. (May I remind you that she has the SOFTEST meow ever?)

The woman screamed at the flight attendant.

Woman: “That cat hissed at me! She is holding a vicious animal! I’m scared! It needs to be put down; it bit me!”

Alice has never bitten, hissed, or scratched me or anyone on purpose, ever. She doesn’t even play-fight.

Flight Attendant: “Ma’am, obviously, nothing is wrong with this cat.” *To me* “Is everything all right, ma’am?”

Me: “No!”

After like forty-five minutes of this woman’s bulls***, she got moved to a different seat, the staff on the flight apologized to me, and Alice got a seat of her own and extra treats.

This was two years ago, and I haven’t been on a plane since in fear something like this would happen again. Plus, I feel bad if other people have to move seats because of an allergy.

I don’t know what that woman had against my cat, but I think it’s safe to say she’s probably a dog person.

I’m working at a fast food restaurant when a man orders a baked potato with “everything” on it. Here at [Restaurant], our baked potatoes can come with bacon, cheese, chili, shredded cheese, sour cream, margarine, etc. I explain as much to the customer, and he is none too happy.

Customer: “Look! When I say everything I mean EVERYTHANG. Like, if you offer it as a topping, I want it ON MY POTATO!”

He then drove on through to the window, cursing my very existence.

Enter malicious compliance.

We made that baby with every topping imaginable. It was like a scene from “Willy Wonka”, sprinkling crispy onions, squirting honey mustard, slathering mayonnaise and bourbon sauce, and crumbling blue cheese. This potato was a monstrosity, and I would love to have seen the customer’s face when he tried to eat this thing.

I had to settle for the look on the customer’s face when we intentionally waited until he was at the window to enter the prices, naming and adding each topping we put on. The cost? $12.86. It was fun to see his eyebrow go up a little more with each ingredient listed.

I’m so glad all he ordered was the potato, so he could see what he did more clearly. Suddenly, his trap was shut and he paid up, snatching his very heavy potato and hitting the road.

The works, baby!

I’m a bridal stylist; I help people find their wedding gowns. I love my job, and 99% of the time, it’s a happy, wonderful job with great coworkers and customers.

And then there’s the 1%.

I had a bride today who was very sweet but just didn’t connect with the gowns we had. That’s okay; it happens sometimes. She was fine. But her mom (and somehow, it’s always the mom or the aunt) was decidedly not happy and decided to s***-talk me in Spanish the whole time.

Mom: “Does this woman know what she’s doing? She’s pulling nothing but ugly gowns!”

Said gowns were selected by the bride.

Mom: “I hope you don’t ever get as fat as her.”

And so on. Lovely.

Now, I am whiter than a jar of mayo, and I don’t necessarily look like I speak Spanish. However, my parents are from a Spanish-speaking country, even though they’re not ethnically Hispanic. I knew a LOT more as a kid, but l still know enough to get around.

So, I waited until the end, and as they were leaving, I spoke to the bride and her mom in Spanish.

Me: “I hope you have a great day. Please, feel free to come back any time you’d like; we have lots more gowns you can go through if you’d like.”

You know how good it feels when you’re in a ton of pain, and the doctor finally gives you something that works, and you’re suddenly not feeling any pain anymore? Or when you’re craving a specific flavor of ice cream and you manage to find it?

Seeing the look on that bride’s mom’s face when she realized I’d heard and understood the entire hour of her ripping me to shreds was SO much better.

Related:
If You Wouldn’t Say It To Their Face, Don’t Say It Near Their Ears, Part 2
If You Wouldn’t Say It To Their Face, Don’t Say It Near Their Ears