When I have to bag groceries, I like to keep the raw meats separate from any other items that the customers may be buying to avoid any kind of contamination. One night, I happen to bag for a customer who is buying a few packages of cold cuts and a package of ground beef. I instinctively put the cold cuts in one bag and the ground beef in another.

Customer: “You don’t have to use two bags. You can put both in the same bag.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I was told not to put raw meat and fresh food in the same bag to avoid contamination.”

Customer: “And I’m telling you to put them in the same d*** bag!”

Me: “Ma’am, I could get in trouble for doing that.”

Customer: “I don’t care! Put them in the same d*** bag now! I want to have to carry two bags to my car!”

I still refuse to put the raw meat in the same bag as the cold cuts, so the customer takes the bag with the ground beef and shoves it inside the bag with the cold cuts.

Customer: “You’re completely useless, you stupid girl! When a customer tells you to do something for them, you do it!”

Customer #2: “Will you stop harassing the poor girl for doing her job right and just get out of here already?! You’re holding up the line over something stupid!”

The first customer leaves and the second customer turns to me.

Customer #2: “You are doing a wonderful job. Don’t let people like that tell you otherwise!”

Related:
Mmm, Strawberries And Meat-Cream

I’m working in the pet food aisle of the market I work at and these two teenagers have taken an interest in the small selection of catnip we supply.

Teen #1: “Hey, do you know anything about catnip?”

Me: “Not really, why?”

Teen #1: “Oh, we just wanted to know if you could get high off of it?”

Me: “Um… I’m really not sure.”

Teen #2: “Well, we figured that cats get pretty crazy on it. So humans must get some kind of high off of it, too, right?”

Teen #1: “It’s like pot for cats, right?”

Me: “I have no idea. I don’t know anything about catnip. And I certainly don’t know anything about drugs.”

Teen #1: “Oh, okay. Thanks for your help.”

Teen #2: *As they walk away* “Let’s get it and try smoking it, anyway. What’s the worst it can do?”

Related:
Glad They Catnipped That In The Bud

I work at a community mental health agency as an outpatient counselor, assessing a client’s overall emotional functioning. 

Me: “I have some questions for you today, just to check in and see how you’re doing.”

Client: “You know what? I’m sick and tired of you and your f****** questions. I’m sick of people telling me what to do. I’m not coming back to this f****** place after today.”

Me: “If you prefer not to do this now, that’s okay. You can decide not to do the assessment; I’d understand.”

Client: *sighs* “Fine, I’ll do it. Let’s get this done.”

Me: “Would you say you feel irritable always, often, sometimes, rarely, or never?”

Client: “Never. I’m doing pretty good with that.”

I maintain composure and complete the rest of the assessment.

Me: *Finishing session* “I think we’ve done enough for today. Would you like to meet next week?”

Client: “Sure, this time works because I get out of work at three.”

I’ve been stopping at this same [Coffee Shop] for the past seven years. Despite working a few different jobs, it’s the most convenient one between my house and the highway. Not only that, but they actually make a decent cup of coffee considering they’re a chain shop.

Up until last week, I’ve shown up there somewhere between seven and nine am every day, depending on the day. There was even a stretch of time where, since it’s right next to a school, I would skip the fifteen-minute drive-thru line and just walk right in. They caught on and would even have my coffee waiting at the counter. They may have messed up my order twice in this long stretch of time.

Recently, my schedule changed drastically. I now stop in between five-thirty and six am, with a whole different crew working. In the past two weeks, this woman has tried to hand me a large hot coffee four times; I order a large iced coffee.

Each time, I’ve corrected her as politely as possible considering I’m definitely not a morning person. Three of those times, she has made a medium coffee and laughed crazily when I corrected her for a second time. Twice, she has attempted to give me a medium iced coffee; at least she skipped the hot coffee step.

Facepalm.

Six mistakes in about ten days means I really need to find a new coffee place, but I have very minimal options that early.

I live in a state that has a rather unique dialect which can lead to confusion.

Customer: “Excuse me, miss, do you carry Briters?”

Me: “I’m sorry, what was that again?”

Customer: “Briters.”

Me: “I’ve never heard of that before. Could you describe what a briter is so I can point you in the right direction?”

Customer: “You know, Briter water filters, for purifying tap water.” 

Me: “Oh! You want Brita water filters.”

Customer: “Yes, that’s what I said.”

Me: “Right this way.”

Customer: “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Me: “Actually, ma’am, I was born and raised in this state.”

Customer: “That’s impossible! You don’t talk like you’re from around here at all! You have to be from outta state!”

Me: “I can assure you, ma’am, I’ve lived in this state my entire life.”

Customer: “That’s not possible!”