(I work at a very small, very busy convenience store. It’s my first day at the register:)

Customer: “A £10 top-up for [Mobile Phone Network].”

Me: *prints out voucher, takes payment, and hands voucher to customer along with receipt* “There you go. Take care.”

(Two minutes later, the customer storms back into the store, barges to the front of the queue, and starts yelling.)

Customer: “Where’s my f****** top-up? All you gave me was the receipt!”

Me: “I can assure you, I gave you the voucher, too. I checked it as I handed it to you.”

Customer: “So, where is it now? You didn’t give it to me!”

Me: “I have no idea. Maybe you dropped it? All I can tell you is that I’m certain I handed you the voucher.”

(At this point both of us notice a small piece of paper by the shop door. The customer picks it up. It turns out to be a mobile phone voucher. I’m expecting an apology. Shows how new I am.)

Customer: “How do I know this is mine?”

Me: “Is it for £10 and [Mobile Phone Network]?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “…”

(The customer stomped out.)

(I worked at a store that caters to both regular and plus-sized women. I am naturally petite and fairly thin, and at that point still new, so I don’t know everything about certain garments. A large woman asks me for help picking out shapewear.)

Woman: *looking at two drastically different types of shapewear* “Which of these will work better for me?”

Me: “Well, it depends on what you need them for. This one is good for smoothing you out under your dress, while this one is good for supporting your thighs.”

Woman: “Yes, but which would you wear? I need it for a wedding.”

Me: “Well, I can’t personally vouch for them, since I’ve never worn those types, but it really depends on the dress you’re wearing and what you consider your problem areas. Like, with some clingy dresses, I have to wear shapewear to suck in my stomach.”

Woman: “Oh, what do you know? You’re just a skinny mini!” *flounces away*

Me: “But… then why did you ask me?”

(I work as a sales associate in the children’s department at a well-known department store. It is winter, and I moved to Tucson from Washington State relatively recently. As it is close to the holidays, the store is rather busy when this customer approaches my register.)  

Customer: “Do you have boys’ jackets?”

Me: *indicating an entire wall displaying boys’ jackets* “We have quite a few boys’ jackets, ma’am.”

Customer: “No, I want a jacket.”

Me: *indicating the wall again* “All of our jackets are up on that wall, ma’am.”

Customer: “I’m looking for a jacket. A boys’ jacket. Do you have any jackets?“

(This continues for a moment or two, until I am not only frustrated, but wondering if she’s trying to make some sort of point. Finally, I somehow remember noting how my coworkers, who are all from Arizona or Sonora, have never used the word “coat.”)

Me: “Ma’am, did you mean a coat?”

Customer: “Yes, a coat. A boys’ jacket.”

(I showed her where the winter coats were; she bought one and left. Later, during a lull, I wrote down every word for “coat” I could think of and showed it to one of my Tucson-raised coworkers. She had never heard of ski jackets, cardigans, or parkas. In Tucson, every supplemental outer covering that isn’t knitted is a “jacket,” and every knitted jacket is a “sweater.”)

(I work for a massive chain of retail stores. I am in the bakery department. Only a friend and I are manning the counter. We are casually chatting while working when an elderly male customer walks up.)

Me: “Hi! How can I help you?”

Customer: “Yeah, where are [certain type of donuts]? They used to be right here.”

Me: “I don’t know; let me ask my coworker.”

(My friend has been working for longer than I have, and generally has more updates on situations than I do.)

Me: “[Coworker], do you know what happened to [donuts]?”

Coworker: “Yeah, corporate got rid of it.”

Me: *to customer* “Corporate got rid of it.”

(Corporate getting rid of stuff is no new thing. This guy’s reaction, however, is new.)

Customer: *clearly getting agitated* “How could they get rid of them? I buy them!”

Coworker: “Yes, well, they weren’t selling, so the company was losing money.”

Customer: *quickly growing enraged* Well, I buy about one to two cases every week or so, so how could they not be selling?”

Me: “You could very well be one of the only people buying them.”

Customer: *growing belligerent* “Of course this happens! Every time I come into this God-forsaken store, they never seem to have what I want to buy! God, how does this store even stay here?! They should just close this f****** place!”

(The customer continues like this for a good twenty minutes while my friend and I just stare at him with our best customer service faces. After he storms off, we both sigh in relief. When he’s out of earshot, my friend turns to me.)

Coworker: “What an a**hole.”

Me: “You know, if he hates shopping here so much, nothing is compelling him to shop here.”

(We both shrug and continue with the rest of our shift.)

(I work in the deli department of a major Australian supermarket. We sell a variety of shaved meats, including three types of shredded chicken in the flavours of BBQ, Peri Peri, and Lemon, Lime, and Coriander.)

Me: “Hi, how can I help you today?”

Customer: *a woman in her late thirties* “What flavour is that chicken?” *pointing*

Me: “Lemon, lime, and coriander.”

Customer: “Lime, coriander, and what?”

Me: “Lemon.”

Customer: “So it has lime, coriander, and…?”

Me: *internally sighing* “Lemon.”

Customer: “Lemon? Oh, okay. I’ll have $5 of that one, then.”

(I get the required amount, wrap it in butcher paper, and put the ticket on it, which has the name on the label. The customer looks at the ticket and then at me.)

Customer: “So, it’s lemon, lime, and coriander?”

Me: “Yes. Is there anything else?”

Customer: “No, thanks.”

(She leaves and I go back to cleaning. A couple of minutes later, she comes running back into the store and over to me.)

Customer: “What was the flavour of that chicken?”

Me: “Lemon, lime, and coriander.”

Customer: “Oh, my God! My daughter just ate some, and she’s allergic to lemon!”

(She then turned around and ran back out the door. I don’t understand how these people manage to survive day after day.)