(I pick up the phone and get treated to this conversation:)

Me: “[Bakery]. How can I help you?”

Customer: “Uh, yeah, my friends and I wanted to order a sheet cake for our buddies who are coming back from serving overseas in the army.”

Me: “All right, let me just get some information from you.”

(I ask him for details about what kind of cake he wants and he answers.)

Customer: “And you can write a message on the cake, right?”

Me: “Yeah. What do you want it to say?”

Customer: “Okay, we want it to say, ‘Thanks for standing tall and proud…'”

(I think I can hear him snickering slightly, which confuses me.)

Customer: “‘Your long, hard ordeal is finally over.'”

(Now, I can hear other people in the background trying to stifle laughter.)

Customer: “And then we… And then we want their names written on it.”

Me: *not buying it anymore* “Uh-huh.”

Customer: “Staff Sergeant Rod Johnson, Private Jimmy Wang, Rifleman Dick Peters, Gunner’s Mate Willy Cox.”

(The guy on the phone and his buddies were all cracking up.)

Me: “Aren’t you forgetting Schmuck Phallusworth? Or is that who I’m speaking to?”

(Bellows of outrageous laughter erupted from the phone before I hung up.)

(I work in intimate apparel so I get a lot of requests for certain underwear and whatnot. I’ve also had my fair share of older women doing questionable things.)

Customer: “Ma’am, do you work here?”

Me: *putting away clothes left in the fitting room* “Yep, sure do! How can I help you today?”

Customer: “I’m looking for all-cotton hipster panties. Do you have them here?”

Me: “Of course; it’s in our panty section. Give me a few seconds and I’ll walk you over.”

(I end up just leaving the pile of bras on my counter to help the woman and lead her to where our panties are.)

Me: “Unfortunately, we don’t have any solid colors. Will that be okay?”

Customer: “Colors and patterns don’t matter to me; I just need all-cotton hipsters. I just had a surgery that removed a portion of my bowels and I don’t want anything on my scar.”

Me: “That’s super easy to find, so if you would check this table display rig—”

(Right as I’m speaking, the customer pulls up her shirt and unbuttons her pants. Much to my absolute horror, she starts to tug her pants down to the — luckily empty — floor which exposes the panties she is currently wearing.)

Customer: “See where they cut me open?” *points to the very obvious scar on her stomach* “I need panties to make sure they don’t touch this scar.”

Me: *unsure what to do and what to say* “R-right, ma’am. These panties right here are what you are looking for—” *spots my manager* “O-Oh! I need to go talk to my manager! If I’m not back, the plus-size cashier would be happy to help you—”

Customer: “Thank you so much, sweetheart. I appreciate your help.” *fixes her clothes as if nothing happened* 

(I speed-walked to the department manager who was closing that night and told them I was taking my break right then and there. I didn’t tell them what happened but I’m sure loss prevention had a blast laughing at me and my panic of what the woman did.)

(At the convenience store where I work, there are spring-loaded cup dispensers that hold fountain drink cups with little adjustable clips so they don’t fly out everywhere. One day, I’m refilling the cups when an old man comes in and tries to get a 32-ounce cup. He struggles to pull the cup out of the dispenser because the clips are too tight. Finally, he’s able to pull the cup out, and says:)

Old Man: “Tight fit… Don’t find many of those anymore.”

Me: “…?!”

(I’m still not sure if he meant for me to hear that, but he said nothing else with his family while they were in the store.)

(I’m working the register at a drug store that’s part of a national chain. Our store is pretty well known for printing receipts that are as long as your arm, with coupons relating to many prior purchases, for our members. I’m checking out a young woman. She enters her phone number for the membership, then freezes.)

Customer: “Actually… could you take that off?”

Me: “I’m sorry? I haven’t started scanning yet. Which item do you want me to take off?”

Customer: “I can’t use that membership.”

Me: “Ma’am, it was a valid membership. You’re fine to use it.”

Customer: “No… No, please just take the membership off.”

Me: “Are you trying to cancel your membership? It doesn’t automatically renew, so if you’re not interested in continuing, you just need to wait until it expires on its own–“

Customer: *very red-faced* “This is a family account, okay? My grandmother’s on it. I can’t apply the membership.”

(I follow her gaze down to see that, among her items, she’s got several packs of condoms and a bottle of lubricant. The penny drops. Our algorithm being what it is, whoever comes in and uses her membership number will start getting coupons for those about a month later.)

Me: “I’ll just cancel the sale and we can start over, all right?”

About ten years ago, I was a starting manager at a popular fast food location on a Saturday and had to close for the night. I had some issues with an employee during the closing shift, but that’s not for today. When I was finished with all my duties, I tried to set the inner alarm one hour later at 3:15, but after a minute, it went off. So, I had to turn it off and answer the call from the security company, and I had to direct them to my supervisor for the secret question. This went on three times, and then it was escalated to the restaurant manager. He called me to let me know to not set the alarm for the inner area, as I locked the door and the alarm would be set for the outer area in about 30 minutes by the cleaning crew. 

Around 3:30, I wanted to go to my bike to head home. That’s when I noticed a car with a running engine, standing in the dark next to my bike. Because it’s considered a security risk — due to a possible robbery — it was procedure to stay inside and call the local police. They were on site with three cars within five minutes. They had one regular police van, a car with a spotlight and a camera, and a car with a dog handler. The officer on the phone asked me to stay inside and turn on the drive-thru microphone so the police on site could contact me without me getting in danger, and to stay away from the windows, so I did. 

On the cameras in the management office — in the inner alarm area — I saw an officer talk to somebody in the car, and after a while, a guy came out. The dog handler took his dog and let it search the car and the area around it. After a while, the officer came to the drive-thru microphone and began to speak to me. The guy was a businessman, and he was using our free WiFi to watch porn at night because the WiFi at the hotel was paid. 

Within a month, all restaurants had a feature installed that closed down the free WiFi an hour after their scheduled closing times.