I was working in retail, and I had a cold. I was not permitted to stay home sick, so I went to work.

My whole shift was like this: sell a computer, walk to the break room, blow my nose, wash my hands, walk back to my department, sell a printer, walk to the break room, blow my nose, wash my hands, walk back to my department, sell a router, walk to the break room, blow my nose, etc.

My manager finally noticed that I was actually sick and told me I could go home early… fifteen whole minutes before my seven-hour shift ended.

I work in a HIGHLY seasonal job in the northeastern US. It’s a pool store. Our swim season is May to September, with some outliers for having heaters, indoor pools, and hot tubs. By November, the store closes at 6:00 pm and I’m usually locking the doors at 6:02 pm.

On this particular night, I have to do a deposit, which requires two extra minutes of paperwork. So, at 6:04, I’m dotting the I in my final signature when I hear someone aggressively pull on the door. I look up and shrug and point to my imaginary watch. Too bad, buddy, right? Wrong. He tugs again. I go and unlock the door and crack it open just enough to converse.

Me: “Hey! I’m really sorry, but we’re closed for the night. I’ve got everything shut down already.”

Customer: “I got here as soon as I could. Can’t you help me?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but the registers are shut down. I can’t start them again until tomorrow.”

Customer: “I just drove for over an hour to get here. It’s not even five minutes past close; you should still be open.”

Me: “Sir, I have plans tonight. My last customer came in three hours ago. If you call to say you’re on your way but might be late, I’ll happily stay for you, but I won’t sit here all night for no reason. Just call ahead next time.”

The next week, I got four calls from him with traffic updates. He made it in around 5:45 and spent thirty minutes nitpicking and attempting to barter corporate-set prices.

I send an email to an online store in my country.

Me: “You have sent me the wrong thing.”

Webshop: “Just send it back and we will send you the right thing. However, if you decide to also keep the wrong thing, we will have to charge you for it.”

I am not a lawyer, but I do know our national consumer law.

Me: “Thank you. By the way, it is illegal to require payment for something that you have sent by mistake.”

This law is in place so that scammers can’t just send people stuff and demand payment. The law is from way before online shopping when crooks just put unwanted stuff in people’s mailboxes and then came back later demanding money. In the case of an actual order, the responsibility to deliver the ordered item to the address given lies completely with the seller. As a result of this law, any receiver is allowed to keep any unasked for, incorrect, or wrongly delivered items for free.

But the webshop doesn’t believe me.

Webshop: “No, if you keep the wrong thing, we will charge you for it.”

I sent the “wrong thing” back, of course, but not because of their threat. Only one of these days they are going to do this to an actual lawyer.

One of my coworkers is a real ball of sunshine. I overhear this exchange with another coworker as she’s leaving for the day.

Coworker #1: “Well, have a good night, [Coworker #2]!”

Coworker #2: “No, I won’t have a good night. I’m spending it with my daughter!”

I am the third customer in the queue. The first customers are a middle-aged couple and their kid who looks like he could be anywhere between sixteen and twenty. There are two bottles of beer among their other items, which I only pay attention to because the cashier is refusing to scan them.

Cashier: “The problem is he looks legal age, but I can’t sell it to you if he can’t show ID.”

Mum: “But it’s not for him; it’s for us.”

Cashier: “But he’s with you, so I can’t sell it to you.”

Mum: “I don’t see why I can’t buy my beer just because I have my son with me.”

Cashier: “Look, he looks old enough to drink, but he also looks under twenty-five. I have to ID him.”

Mum: “This is ridiculous!”

Cashier: “I can’t sell it to you. I don’t know that it’s not a proxy sale.”

Mum: “But I am telling you that I’m not going to give it to him!”

Cashier: “If I am caught selling this to you, whether or not your son drinks any, I could lose my job. I could be facing jail time. I will not sell this to you.”

Dad: “Well, how about this. I’ll just pick up those—” *points at the beer* “—and head to the back of the queue, yeah?”

Cashier: “I can’t. I already know that you’re together. I can’t take that risk.”

Dad: “But it would be just me buying beer.”

Cashier: “No. If my supervisor catches me. If he saw on the security footage, I would be in a serious amount of trouble. You are not buying this beer.”

There’s a bit more back and forth, but eventually, the family buys the rest of their things (without the beer) and leaves. The cashier calls over for another employee to put the beer away, and the next customer addresses him.

Customer #2: “Some people…”

Cashier: “For all I knew, that kid could have been sixteen, or he could hate the taste of beer, but it’s not a risk I can take.”

Customer #2: “Oh, I know, sweetie. I just can’t believe their nerve!”