It’s early morning, and our store is setting up. A customer approaches the door, and when it doesn’t open, he starts banging on it. 

Coworker: “We’re not open yet, sir! Come back at 8:00 am.”

Customer: “I can’t open the door!” 

Coworker: “We’re not open until eight, sir! Come back then!” 

Customer: “Open the door! I need to buy my cigarettes!”

My coworker reminds him one more time to come back at 8:00 am and then walks off to continue his opening duties. At least, he is about to. We all stop at the sound of something hitting the door multiple times and then, finally, glass breaking.

This crazy MF has managed to find a pole that was holding up an ad and used it to ram the glass door. I rush over as he starts using the pole to clear away the shattered glass and casually bends down to enter the store through it.

Customer: “The door was broken.”

Me: “Sir… what the actual f***?! The door was locked, not broken! Locked, because we’re still closed!”

Customer: *Starts walking into the store* “Sell me my cigarettes.” 

Me: “Sir, we will not be selling you any cigarettes! In fact, we will be calling the police because you have willingly damaged the store!”

Customer: “Sell me my cigarettes, or I’ll use you as a punching bag!”

Threat of violence — that’s it. I call the silent alarm, which means someone has been tasked with calling the police. I follow the customer over to the tobacco counter. He is still so ridiculously calm and oblivious to his bad behavior that I am in shock.

Customer: “I’ll take [Brand, [size]. Two packs.”

Me: “Sir, I don’t think you understand. You broke down the door and threatened to assault my staff, and the police are on their way to arrest you. We will not be selling you cigarettes today!”

Customer: “Fine. What about tomorrow?”

He was still totally oblivious to the trouble he was in when the police arrived to escort him out.

I am working with a coworker, and we’re both experiencing a couple of blessed minutes of downtime. We’re both big anime fans, so we’re chatting about the recent episodes of a show we’re both watching, “Attack On Titan”. The show is known for being quite intense and putting its characters through a lot.

Me: “Can you believe everything that they’ve been putting up with this season?”

Coworker: “I know! I keep saying, ‘We just can’t catch a break!'”

As we’re talking, an older customer is walking past and is glaring at us.

Customer: “That’s the problem with your generation! Always complaining about how hard you’ve got it! You always need little breaks! I don’t know what you think you’ve got to complain about, but back in my day, we just got on with it and didn’t expect a pat on the back for the privilege.”

Coworker: “Oh, sir, we weren’t complaining about our jobs. We’re just talking about a show we watch where the characters have to endure a lot, and we were feeling sorry for them.”

Customer: “Let me guess. They’re struggling because they have to work a full eight hours and they’ve run out of mental health days?” 

Coworker: “No, they have to fight man-eating giants who have just consumed all their friends and family in increasingly violent and disturbing ways.”

Customer: “Hmph! Sounds stupid! Back in my day, shows were about real things! Starsky & Hutch! Hawaii Five-O! And the real one, not that new one where everyone is Asian!”

Me: “Sir, did you need help with anything in the store?”

Customer: “No! I can do it myself! You should all just stop moaning!”

Coworker: “We will… try, sir.”

And off he went, looking for new things to grumble about.

A friend and I are customers in a shop, mostly just doing the tourist thing. Someone’s kids are sprinting around the store doing a hide-and-seek kind of game around the shelves. They’re noisy but not destroying anything, so I’d count that as a small blessing for the staff.

Friend: “Hey, let’s get lunch after this. My stomach is starting to gnaw at me.”

I grab my phone and use it to Google food places nearby, and we find a fish place with pretty good ratings. We’re kind of gathered around my phone, looking at their online menu.

Me: “Their parmesan pollock looks pretty good…”

Kid’s Voice: “Pollock!”

I look up, surprised, as one of the kids goes sprinting through the store yelling “pollock” loudly like he just learned a new swear word. My friend snorts in amusement, and I shrug. It doesn’t take two minutes for the other kids in the store to take up the new word.

Friend: “I guess it does kind of sound like a word you’d say when you stub your toe…”

I snicker.

Apparently, the kids’ mom thinks so, too, because she storms over to us while we stand in line and starts berating us for “teaching children bad words”.

Me: “Ma’am, I didn’t teach your children any bad words.”

Mother: “Then why are they yelling that word all over the store?”

Me: “Because they probably don’t know what it means, just that it sounds like it might be a bad word?”

Mother: *Crossing her arms* “If it’s so harmless, then maybe you should explain the word.”

She has a smirk as if she thinks she has caught me in a lie and I’m going to fumble with the explanation.

Me: *Rolling my eyes* “Fine. It’s a fish.”

Mother: *Blank stare* “Excuse me?”

Me: “A pollock is a member of the cod family.”

Her blank stare continues.

Me: “Cod. You know, like codfish? We’re going to a fish restaurant, and I want to try it.”

Mother: *Suspiciously* “If it’s called cod, then why did you call it a pollock?”

I open my phone and show her.

Me: “Because it’s called pollock on the menu.”

The woman scowled at my phone for a long time and then turned and stomped away, muttering about made-up words to hide swear words.

My friend and I paid for our items and left the store, still occasionally hearing a child’s voice yell, “Pollock!” The fish, swear word or not, tasted great, by the way.

Two women approach me, and one of them places a ruined pair of shoes on the counter.

Customer #1: “I need a refund! These just fell apart!” 

Me: “I can see that, ma’am. It looks like they got wet.”

Customer #1: “Well, yes, I put them in the washing machine.”

Me: “Ma’am, these are a delicate pair of shoes. You should wipe them to clean them, not put them in a laundry machine.”

Customer #1: “Well, there weren’t any instructions telling me not to!” 

The customer’s friend looks up from her phone and seems dumbfounded.

Customer #2: “Dear God, Barbara. It’s because of people like you there’s a tutorial video on YouTube on how to drink water…” 

Related:
Why Contracts Are A Gazillion Pages Long, Part 4
Why Contracts Are A Gazillion Pages Long, Part 3
Why Contracts Are A Gazillion Pages Long, Part 2
Why Contracts Are A Gazillion Pages Long

Our store has just fully reopened after lockdowns, but management is mandating that customers be vaccinated. Of course, this goes down with certain groups of the population about as well as can be expected.

Customer: “You can’t force me to take a vaccine!” 

Manager: “No one is forcing you, ma’am, but we also don’t have to let you into the store.”

Customer: “It’s my right as an American to go where I please without being forced to be vaccinated!”

Manager: “This store is private property, ma’am, and we can exercise our right to deny you entry.”

Customer: “Freedom has been a right in this country since 1776! Vaccinations are an attack on those freedoms! George Washington is turning in his grave right now!”

Manager: “George Washington made Congress force all his troops in the Revolutionary War to be inoculated against smallpox, ma’am. Please try again.”