(I work at a retail store that generally closes before all the other ones around us. At this moment we have just a few minutes before close and I am back in my department, which is empty, when a customer whom I watched enter just 30 seconds before comes up to me.)

Me: “How can I help you tonight?”

Customer: “I need a lightbulb.”

Me: “Well, that would be in our light—”

Customer: “You don’t understand. I NEED a LIGHTBULB!”

Me: “Ma’am, we don’t have lightbulbs in this department. But if you’ll let me direct you to—”

Customer: “You’ve got to be kidding me. Where are the d*** lightbulbs, kid?!”

(The announcer goes off, saying we are now closed, and I’m trying to be as polite as possible.)

Customer: “F****** people are f****** closed now! You people need to get your s*** together before you f****** close on a paying customer! I’m never coming back here!”

(I tell my coworker about the lady that night. He finds me during my shift the next day.)

Coworker: “Hey, did that lady happen to have [color] hair and a [color] purse with her?”

Me: “Yeah, why?”

Coworker: “She came back this morning. Apparently she knew exactly where they were. And she was very disappointed to discover they weren’t by the gummy worms.”

(I’m a customer browsing in the DVD section of a store. I give an exclamation of surprise when I find a recent movie on the shelf; As I take it down, a middle aged man shorter than myself grabs it and puts it back.)

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “You don’t want that! That’s crap! It’s American crap!”

Me: “Actually, it’s an Australian movie—”

Customer: “No, it isn’t! Look at the uniform on the cover! That’s an American uniform! Are you too thick to know those ‘crims’ when you see them?”

Me:“Well, it’s got American soldiers in it, but it’s all Australian. Must have a good costuming department I guess.”

Customer: *grumbles* “Aussies, eh? I worked for eight years in Australia. THEY aren’t as good as they think they are! Like the Yanks, we are better than both of them. Man for man – we could knock ’em over, you know! *walks away laughing* “And one day we WILL!”

(I look after him, then at the movie in question, and am struck by the irony that the film is the Nazi victory SF epic ‘THE 25TH REICH.’)

(It is Christmas 2012. We use an online service to order a foam chair for our grandson. Within two weeks, the box arrives, but with two of the chairs. I go to return one at the store. After waiting in line for 20 minutes, I reach the customer service rep.)

Rep: “How may I help you?”

Me: “I just wanted to bring this back. We ordered one, but they delivered two.”

Rep: *blank stare for a few moments* “You don’t want a refund?”

Me: “Oh, no! I’m sorry. I should have said that we weren’t charged for this one. We only paid for one chair, but got two.”

Rep: “So you…” *another blank stare*

Me: “Everything’s okay, isn’t it? I’m just returning merchandise that was mistakenly delivered to us.”

Rep: “I… I’m not sure. This never happens!”

(I finally convinced her that it was okay to just take the chair back without crediting my account, but left with the feeling that she still wasn’t sure what to do next.)

(I work at a battery store, and one of the most popular items we have are reconditioned car batteries. I’m gladly closing up the store. I have my arm in a sling since I had dislocated my shoulder a few days before. Some customers roll up:)

Customer: “We want a reconditioned battery.”

(By the boss’s instruction, I was to keep the shop open and take care of customers when they came in. So, I get them rung up.)

Customer: “And we want you to install it.”

(This is a problem, because it is a Dodge Stratus, which means you have to take the wheel off the car to get to the battery.)

Me: “Okay, but the surcharge will be [total].”

Customer: “What! That is ridiculous. I won’t pay that much!”

Me: “Then I can’t do it.”

Customer: “Fine! But hurry up!”

Me: “It will take a little longer because my arm is in a sling.”

(After more arguing, I finally got started installing the battery. They all walked down the street to a convenience store. An hour and a half after closing, I got the job done, while they stood there and complained that I had taken so long.)

(While shopping, I am in a fitting room. There is a mother and her young daughter, about six or seven, who are both in the same changing room.)

Little Girl: “Mommy, I really like this dress on me. Can I get it?”

Mom: “Well, honey your belly seems to be sticking out of it. Are you sure it’s not too tight?”

Little Girl: “I don’t know. My belly does look big. I look like I am going to have a baby. My belly is bigger than yours, Mommy!”

Mom: *laughs nervously* “Ha! No, honey… You’re not having a baby.”

Little Girl: “And my butt, too! Why is that?”

Mom: “Well, honey, you’re African American. Our butts are supposed to be big. White people just have flat ones. That is just the way it is.”

(Wow…)