Me: “How can I help?”

Customer: “I need to buy a computer. I don’t want you to sell me insurance or anything else, just the computer.”

Me: “What will you be using it for?”

Customer: “I need to use ‘The Google,’ and some word processing. I’ve been told by my technical friend it needs two ‘tetrabites’ and at least eight ‘jiggabites.'”

Me: *trying not to laugh* “I think you mean terabytes and gigabytes.”

Customer: “Yes, I am well aware of what I need.”

Me: “For the things you are using it for, I don’t think you will need those specifications. You might end up spending a lot of money and not make full advantage of the machine. You could get a cheaper machine and spend more money on attachments.”

Customer: “No, I know what I need; my friend told me.”

Me: *politely* “Is your friend a technician?”

Customer: “No, he’s a decorator.”

Me: “Right.” *shows customer to a computer that matches her specifications, priced £899*

Customer: “That’s too expensive. I was hoping to spend £150 – £200.”

Me: “We have nothing that cheap. The lowest priced and most basic laptops start at £350.”

(The customer walked off, whilst muttering how customer service was terrible.)

(I work in a shop that has a cat. This cat does not like dogs and will attack them. The boss used to allows dogs that could be carried but has recently started sporadically enforcing an unposted “no dogs” rule. While I’m out of sight shelving, I hear her.)

Boss: “I’m sorry, but you can’t bring that dog in here. We have a cat and he doesn’t like dogs. Your dog is going to have to leave.”

(I walk out from behind the shelves and see a lady standing outside — with a dog with a very obvious service dog vest.)

Me: “Did you just make that service dog leave?”

Boss: “Yeah, he was upsetting [Cat].”

Me: “You do know that’s illegal, right?”

Boss: “No, it isn’t!”

Me: “Uh, yeah. ADA.”

Boss: “Well, I didn’t know that.”

(She’s owned this business for 15 years!)

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(Customer is paying at the checkout at a world-wide chain supermarket.)

Me: “That’ll be $11 please.”

Customer: *digging out pockets of pants, jacket, and purse* “Where the h*** is my card?”

(Five minutes pass; the line starts to build up.)

Customer: “I’m sorry; I’m looking for my gift cards.” *place five cards on the desk*

Me: “It’s okay, take your time.”

Customer: “You can help others first.” *keeps searching for more gift cards*

(I clear the rest of the line in five minutes.)

Customer: “Here, try this one.”

(Hands me a gift card with three-year-old design and at least 10 cards on the desk. I swipe and it get a $0 balance.)

Me: “Sorry, madam, this one didn’t work out. It has a $0 balance.”

Customer: “Okay, then try this one.”

(I kept trying with her other five cards and they all turn out $0.)

Customer: “How the f*** can that be? That’s why I never trust any of these gift cards! Do they expire or what? See, that one’s got a $20 written (hand-written) on top! Get me your manager!”

Me: “Madam, as far as I know they are required by law not to have an expiry date, and I can get you the manager.”

Manager: “What seems to be the problem?”

(I explained the situation.)

Manager: “Well, madam, these cards will never expire, they can only be used up, is there any chance that they’ve already been used up?”

Customer: “H*** no! See this f****** writing?! It says $20 and that one got $30 and that—”

Manager: “Well, then, I can help you figure out how much they worth at my till.”

(The manager cancelled her order at my till, and the customer went with manager to check values of her cards. Later, when I talked to the manager, she said all but one of her cards had value, which added up to $25.30. And after double checking with the pin number of each gift card, Manager was able to pull out records of all the gift cards, rendering the customer speechless and walk away shamefully. Oh, yeah, and she still kept all those empty gift cards in her purse mixed altogether with the only charged one.)

(It is a few days before Christmas. One of my coworkers is nearby.)

Me: “Hi there, sir. Are you finding everything all right?”

Customer: “Yeah, I’m just trying to decide which size sweater would fit my wife better.”

Me: “Do you know what size she normally wears?”

Customer: “Not really, but she is bigger than you… especially in the breasts… She is more like your size!” *gesturing to my coworker*

(Turns around to address my coworker.)

Customer: “What do you weigh?”

(We hired two new guys a few months ago, and they’re not exactly the brightest crayons in the box. One day, closing with one if them, the topic of gay marriage comes up; I am a lesbian.)

New Guy: “Well, I was always told that it was a sin to be gay, and that it goes against God’s will. Plus, I just think it’s so gross when two dudes make out.”

Me: “How do you know what God’s will is, and how do you know that he hasn’t change his mind over the years?”

New Guy: “Well, in the Bible it says-”

Me: “I know what the Bible says. I was raised in a Catholic family. I’ve read it. But, did you ever consider that God said being gay was a sin thousands of years ago, because he wanted people to reproduce since there weren’t that many of us around? Now there are so many people out there that the birth rate is higher than the death rate. Since this is happening maybe God is making more gay people to help control the overpopulating.”

New Guy: “I never thought of it like that. It’s a good point. But, I still think gay sex is gross.”

Me: “I think straight sex is gross, so we’re even.”

New Guy: “How can you think it’s gross? It’s awesome.”

Me: “Do you want to see a naked man?”

New Guy: “Ew, no!”

Me: “Me, either.”

(He doesn’t talk to me about sins or the Bible anymore.)