(I work nights at a local bank’s call center. During the day we have Spanish-speaking agents available. At night we use a translator service line for any non-English speaking customers. To use it, we place the customer on hold and call over to a translator. I know a few words in Spanish but not much. This call came at around 10 pm.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Bank]. How may I help you?”

Customer: *speaks rapidly in Spanish then pauses*

Me: “Si! Lo siento; no hablo español. Un momento, por favor!” *Yes, I am sorry; I don’t speak Spanish. One moment, please.*

Customer: *speaks rapidly in Spanish again*

Me: “Uhh…” *in a hopeful tone* “No habla español? Hablo ingles?”

Customer: *sighs and speaks slower in Spanish as if to a kid*

Me: “I still don’t speak Spanish, sir.”

Customer: *confused sounding Spanish*

Me: “Can I put you on hold?”

Customer: “Qué?”

Me: “Un momento?”

Customer: “Ohhh… Okay.”

(I put the customer on hold and get a translator. It takes around 30 seconds. The rest of the conversation goes through the translator.)

Me: “How can I help you?”

Customer: “Why don’t you speak Spanish? I pressed the Spanish number.”

Me: “We don’t have Spanish agents at night because few people call in.”

Customer: “Well, that is stupid. Fine, just give me my balance.”

Me: “Okay, can I get your account or card number?”

Customer: “I already gave you this information three times.”

(The customer says a string of words the translator won’t translate, then hangs up.)

Translator: “Wow, that was…  Need me for anything else?”

Me: “Nope. Have a good night.”

Translator: “Good luck!”

(I work at the checkout at a grocery store that, on Thursdays, offers a 5% discount to seniors. Naturally, we get a lot of seniors on Thursdays. Near the end of my shift, an elderly gentleman comes to my lane.)

Me: “Hello, do you have a [Store Card] today?”

Customer: ‘Yes, it’s [telephone number].’

Me: ‘Okay. Did you find everything okay today?”

Customer: “Yes, I did.”

Me: :Great. Are you having a good day so far?”

Customer: “Well, you know how people say T-G-I-F?”

Me: “Yeah…”

Customer: “Well I say, S-H-I-T. So Happy It’s Thursday.”

(I could only fake laugh and quickly get him out of there, making sure I give him his senior discount.)

(I work in a respectable travel agent’s office. A burly man wearing a sleeveless t-shirt featuring a very realistic-looking man’s private part — hairs and all — walks in with his friend. I’m a young female.)

Me: “Good morning. How are you…” *notices the shirt* “…doing…”

Man: “Yes, do you have vacation packages?”

Me: *trying not to look* “Yes.”

Man: “To Germany? How much for a week?”

(I tell him the price. He’s not happy with it and starts yelling, demanding the price be lowered. I refuse politely. Finally, he stops, and his friend joins him. They stand a little ways off so I can hear them whisper.)

Man: “I can’t believe how she treated me! I don’t understand her attitude!”

Friend: “Um, probably because of your shirt.”

Man: “So, what’s wrong with c**k?!”

(They left. My boss came out and I told him what happened, and he laughed.)

(At the time I am fresh out of high school, waiting for my ship out date for the military. My former classmate is a manager at a pet supply store and gets me my job. I am a stocker but occasionally assist customers with questions they have.)

Customer: “Hi. Can you recommend a good collar for a pit bull puppy who keeps chewing through his nylon ones?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. We have several thick leather collars for puppies who like to chew.”

(As I’m explaining the different types of chew resistant collars and leashes, my manager and former classmate, after spending his entire lunch break smoking pot in the loading dock, tries to whisper something to me but says it in a normal voice in front of this customer and her dog.)

Manager: “Hey, [My Name]… “ *muffled giggle* Have you ever [performed a very complicated sexual act] on a girl before?” *more giggles*

(Then he proceeds to run away to the back of the store. After an awkward few seconds that seemed like years between me and said customer, I said:)

Me: “Sooo… the leather one?”

Customer: “Yes. Thanks. Bye.”

(I later found out he was fired for his continued drug use on company property.)

(Our library has a snack machine in the lobby, and like many snack machines it occasionally malfunctions, leaving the snack hanging from the coils instead of dropping it. When this happens we can either refund the patron’s money or open the machine and retrieve the snack, so at least once a day we usually get someone coming to the counter requesting help. Sometimes these requests get a little giggle-worthy.)

Boy: *comes up to the counter* “My Skittles are hanging!”

Me: “Um… What?”

Coworker: “The candy machine, right?”

Boy: “Yeah.”

Coworker: “I’ll go fix it.”

(The coworker opens the machine, retrieves the boy’s Skittles, and comes back to the counter.)

Me: “Sorry… I wasn’t expecting him to say that, and my mind immediately went someplace weird.”

Coworker: “Oh, don’t worry; it happens to me, too. The other day a boy came to the counter and said really loudly, ‘My nuts are stuck!’ I had to work so hard not to laugh at him!”