(I work at a low cost retailer on the weekends to make some extra cash. The weekend before Father’s Day, my manager approaches me while I restock some shelves.)

Manager: “Can you work next weekend?”

Me: “Yes. Why?”

Manager: “Thank God! I’m having problems finding people willing to work on Father’s Day.”

(Before I can say anything, an older customer who is standing a few feet away speaks up.)

Customer: “You want to work on Father’s Day? How could you! Don’t you love your father? Don’t you want to spend time with him? What kind of daughter are you? Don’t want to see your own your father on Father’s Day?!”

Manager: *turns to Customer* “I’m sorry, ma’am—”

Customer: *turns her wrath towards the manager* “And you! How could you ask this poor young woman to work on the day made to celebrate her father?!”

(My manager looks flummoxed for a moment, so I jump in.)

Me: “Ma’am? My father has been dead for ten years, and really, he was an a**-hole when he was alive. I don’t think he really cares what I do on Father’s Day.”

(The customer stops and stares at me, her mouth agape. Then she turns and hurries away. I glance at my manager, sure I’m about to get yelled at for cursing at a customer, but am surprised to see him grinning ear to ear.)

Manager: “So… still available to work next weekend?”

(A customer has just purchased some material.)

Customer: “Okay, I will pick it up Friday.”

Me: “Sounds great.”

Customer: “You close at five?”

Me: “Yes, we close at five on Friday.”

Customer: “And if I come at six?”

Me: “…no one will be here?”

(Cue crestfallen face from customer.)

Customer: “Oh.”

(The store I work in sells a lot of yarn. We often have multiple batches/shipments of the same colour yarn in our shelves, and we have to double check that both the batch and colour match before we sell it to a customer, to avoid colour differences in the finished product. This happens at the checkout when a customer wants to buy a lot of yarn)

Me: “Now I just have to check the batch numbers real quickly so we are sure you get no colour differences later on.”

Customer: *sighs* “I understand that; we all have our fetishes.”

(I freeze for about half a second from this comment but the rest of the transaction goes as normal. After she leaves:)

Boss: “I really don’t think it means what she think it means.”

Me: “I don’t even want to know.”

(I work as an associate for the art supply section of our store. We’re a small business in competition with a chain art store. We have this one regular who everyone in the store dislikes because she breaks art supplies and makes a mess of the displays. We can never make a fuss about her though, because she’s come in every single day this past month and has bought over $50 worth of supplies every day. One day she needed help with the chalk pastels.)

Regular: “Hi, do you know how to mix colors with chalk pastels? I’ve never used them before and I have a tough project to do.”

Me: “Certainly.”

(I show her how to mix colors with the sample pastels we have on the floor.)

Regular: “Cool! The people at [Chain Art Store] didn’t know how to do this! I tried mixing colors with their samples for the longest time and I couldn’t do it. You should have seen it. There were broken chalks everywhere and I totally made a mess of it… But now you showed me how!”

Me: “Just tell me if you need anything.”

(Internally, I’m screaming, because I know she’s going to do that to my display. I go up to the third floor to help train a new associate, and about two hours later I hear an odd call on the walkie.)

Coworker #1: “Uh, Art Supply? Can we have our window cleaner back on main?”

Coworker #2: “No… it’s going to be a while. I have a window cleaner emergency on the second floor.”

(I rush downstairs with the new associate to see what’s going on, and there is pastel chalk everywhere. There are broken bits of chalk on the floor. IT’S EVERYWHERE. My coworker has a mountain of paper towels behind her as she tries to clean up the mess.)

Me: “Did the regular leave?”

Coworker #2: “Yeah, like ten minutes ago… She bought $80 worth of chalk pastels and left this mess. I’ve been cleaning it up since she left!”

(At the store where I work we have a highly controversial return policy. We do not do refunds, and our customers are not huge fans of this.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Store]. This is [My Name] speaking. How may I help you?”

Caller: “Uh, yeah, hi, I have a little problem with my purchase. I’m not sure who to talk to about this, and I hope someone can help me.”

Me: “Okay, what seems to be the problem, ma’am?”

Caller: “I was in your store last week to make a purchase. In the middle of the transaction, I asked the cashier if she could check a price for me. She forgot to take the item off my purchases, and ended up charging me for it. I know that your store has a no refunds policy, but what can be done?”

(Judging from the tone of her voice, she seems really worried, when in reality it’s a problem that can be easily solved.)

Me: “Although you’re right about that, your situation is a little different, ma’am. In this case, it was a genuine mistake made by one of our cashiers. You didn’t actually buy it from us; you were mistakenly charged for it. Our final sale policy only applies to, well, sales.”

Caller: “So, I can get my money back?”

Me: “In this rare and unusual circumstance, yes, you can get your money back.”

Caller: “Oh, thank you so much! You’ve just made my day!”

Me: “Not a problem, ma’am. Thank you for being such an understanding customer.”

(Imagine that. Almost every day I’ve worked there, I’ve had unhappy customers try to argue with me over our policy, and the one person who would’ve had a valid argument chooses to abide by it!)