I oversee several stores in one company, often traveling from one location to another. Two employees at [Store #1] were dating when the boyfriend applied for a managerial position at both [Store #1] and [Store #2] about five miles away. I offered him the position at [Store #2], explaining that he could be a manager there, but he could not do it here at [Store #1] while dating a coworker. He took the job at [Store #2] without hesitation. His girlfriend was at my store for another few weeks before she put in for a transfer with him.

Me: “I’m sorry, but we cannot transfer you. If we do that, [Boyfriend] would be your boss, and that is a conflict of interest.”

Girlfriend: “But we want to work together.”

Me: “I understand how you feel, but we cannot do that. It’s a favoritism concern.”

Girlfriend: *Crossing her arms* “Look, you can transfer me or I quit. Those are literally your options.”

Me: *Nodding* “Okay, well, you can leave your ID badge with me.”

Girlfriend: “What?”

Me: “I’m not transferring you.”

Girlfriend: “Are you serious?”

Me: “I am.”

Girlfriend: “You’re a crusty p***y sucking b****.”

[Girlfriend] stormed out, leaving her badge. I laughed, filing her insult away for my own entertainment later on.

It was only a few days before I saw her application for [Store #2] come through our system. She used a gender-neutral nickname for her application, refused to provide a gender identity, and completely omitted her job with us from her application. Had I not recognized the phone number, I probably would have missed it completely.

I had Human Resources call and schedule an interview and be sure not to tell her I would be there. When she walked in, I smiled and motioned for her to take a seat. She turned bright red and walked right back out. I was a little disappointed; I really wanted to ask if she was calling ME crusty or what she accused me of sucking on. Sadly, I will never know.

When I was in high school, I worked at a pool store selling pools, spas, and chemicals. It was owned by a married couple that, to put it nicely, needed couples therapy. They would fight frequently and both had a temper.

One day, they were both at the store in the back warehouse screaming at one another about something or other. In walked a regular customer. This was one of the customers that would come in from time to time just to talk to one of the owners, and not about actual pool-related topics.

I greeted the regular with the usual spiel.

Me: “Hello, how are you today?”

Regular: “I need to talk to [Owner].”

I was kind of panicking, and I resorted to the classic telemarketer-on-the-phone lie.

Me: “I’m sorry, but [Owner] isn’t here right now.”

Regular: “I know he’s here; his truck is out front.”

Now I figured there was no other way of handling this with grace. I put my finger up to my mouth in a shushing motion.

Regular: “What do you mean?”

I kept my finger to my mouth and actually verbally said, “Shuuuush.” The regular customer stopped talking for a moment and heard them screaming at each other from the back warehouse.

Regular: “Oh.”

Me: *Lowering my finger* “Yeah. You’re welcome to go interrupt them if you like, but I’m not paid enough for that.” *Shrugs and chuckles awkwardly*

Regular: “I think I’ll just come back later.”

Me: “Sounds good!”

Back in my retail days, I once had a customer try to return a power bar — an extension cord with multiple outlets, often with surge protectors.

Customer: “This didn’t work! I’d like to return it.”

I tried it out. I plugged in a nearby lamp and it worked just fine. Despite this, she kept insisting it didn’t work.

This was getting weird.

Me: “Can you show me how it doesn’t work? It’s working just fine for me.”

She plugged the lamp into the power bar… and plugged the power bar into itself. The look of triumph on her face when the lamp did not light up was really something to see.

It took way too long to explain that the power bar does not, in fact, MAKE power. Once that sunk in, she demanded a full refund on the power bar and said she would be bringing back the television she’d bought with it; her plan had been to run the television on the power bar, to save on electricity. At no point did she seem to see any humour, irony, or sheer idiocy in any of this.

I never would have believed people like this existed if it weren’t for working retail.

I work at a small, family-owned petrol station. We are also a grocery store and have a popular hot and cold deli. At our station, you pump your fuel and then enter the store to pay. A lot of people will obviously browse the grocery aisles and/or the deli when they come in.

After buying their food and groceries, it can be a good fifteen or more minutes since they pumped their fuel, and we know from experience that, quite often, by the time customers reach the till they have forgotten about the fuel. We ask each and every customer if they have fuel before we cash them out.

We have six pumps, and we can see the pumps through the large window by the tills. And we obviously can see on our tills which fuel on which pump has not yet been paid for. This, and multiple variations of the same interaction, happens at least once a day.

Cashier: “And have you bought any fuel today, please, sir/ma’am?”

Customer: “Oh, and could I get a pack of [item], please?”

Cashier: “Certainly, your total is [price]. So, any fuel?”

Customer: *Inserting card* “I need [amount] cashback, please.”

Cashier: “Certainly. I just need to know if you have fuel, please?”

They enter their PIN, remove their card, gather their purchases, and walk off.

Customer: “Thank you. Bye.”

I watch through the window as the customer heads to a car parked at pump four which has some unpaid fuel. I watch as the customer hesitates. I watch as the customer heads back to the till.

Customer: “Sorry, I had fuel.” *Laughs* “You should have asked me!”

I’ve had a particularly bad day at work. With five hours still left to go, I decide to treat myself and use a delivery app to order some food from a popular chain. I order two $1 cheeseburgers and select “no mustard” and “no ketchup” since I feel they use too much, and I have some packets if I end up wanting it.

I place my order and wait impatiently. It takes a while since it’s busy hours for the app, but about forty-five minutes later, I finally get my food. I take a seat and take out my first burger and something feels… off. It feels really light.

I unwrap it and find… no burger, just buns with mustard, onions, and pickles. Angry, I throw it back in the bag and open the app, prepared to go full “Can I talk to your manager?” on whoever made such an idiotic mistake. As I’m combing through the app looking for the “Help” button, I realize who, exactly, made the idiotic mistake.

It was me.

When trying to hit “no mustard” after “no ketchup,” it turns out I hit the “NO MEAT” option just below it and didn’t notice. I call the restaurant, unsure whether to laugh or cry, and ask if there is anything that can be done. I can hear the lady trying not to laugh as she says that since there was no mistake on their part and the food was made how I ordered it, there is nothing they can do.

At least I have my fries.