CONTENT WARNING: Gross

I work in a pet store. A customer comes up and asks, with no warning:

Customer: “Do you sell condoms for dogs?”

I somehow manage to maintain a straight face.

Me: “…no.”

The customer grunts and wanders off. My manager, who overheard, comes over.

Manager: “I really wanted to ask him who would’ve been rolling ’em on if we did.”

I work the morning front desk shift at a long-term stay hotel on an island in the Pacific Northwest. Today, a guest encounter at first gave me anxiety, but then I got a good laugh when it was all over.

In the pass down from the night audit shift, I read that a guest had called down to report that the air conditioning wasn’t getting cold enough. The night audit employee offered to fix it — very easy button-pushing involved — and the guest declined service, yet the note said they were extremely upset. They were rewarded 10,000 member points, and [Employee] apologized profusely. So, it was clear we had an entitled jerk to deal with.

Later in the morning, this same guest called down and said their room was “too hot” (72°F) and they didn’t sleep at all. My manager happened to be the one to answer their call, and wow, did it escalate. When [Manager] offered to come up to the room and fix the air conditioning (again), I could hear the guest shouting over the phone.

Guest: “Absolutely not! I’m naked right now! Jesus Christ. How many times have I told you it’s too hot in here?!”

My manager turned bright red.

Manager: “Ma’am, you’ve given us no opportunity to fix this problem, and we are willing to award you more points for the complaint; however, we suggest you seek accommodation elsewhere if our hotel is not to your liking.”

The guest screamed something again and hung up.

A few hours passed, and I was ready for a fight when the problem guest came to the front desk to check out. She glared at me as I was printing her receipt and asked a series of confusing questions about where she had parked and how to take the closest exit there.

Guest: “As you can see I’ve injured my leg; there is a brace and there are pins in it. This pharmacy in your stupid town doesn’t have my medication, so I’m pissed off at the world. Also, I found two fleas in my room, and I don’t have a dog!”

I politely handed her the receipt and finally looked up to make eye contact and tell her goodbye. Her mask said — I swear to God — “Shut up, Karen,” in big white lettering.

I’m still not over the irony of it all.

There is a chocolate bar in the UK called a “Flake 99” or just a “99.” I don’t know why it is called the 99 part, but it’s a flaky stick of chocolate commonly added to ice cream cones.

A man begins to ask me for a 99 but accidentally says:

Customer: “Can I get a 69?”

The woman he was with literally holds her sides because she can’t breathe with laughter, which is only made worse when my colleague replies:

Colleague: “Well, it’s a bit busy at the moment, but if you come back later, I’m sure we can get you sorted.”

He got his ice cream — and ONLY his ice cream!

The first time we went to Yellowstone, we would not stop to let our son look at some bears a couple hundred yards off the road because there were people literally stopping their cars and getting out to walk up to get better pictures, and we did not want to him to see someone being mauled by a bear.

The next time we went to Yellowstone, we did get out to look at the bears because there was an armed park ranger standing on the side of the road watching to make sure no one did anything that stupid. He was also answering the many children’s questions about the bears.

Child: “Are they boy bears or girl bears?”

Ranger: “The lighter-colored one is a girl and the darker-colored one is a boy.”

When pressed on how he knew this by the very curious children, he looked at them, looked at the parents, and said:

Ranger: “I’ve been observing them for quite a while.”

When we got back to the car, our ten-year-old asked:

Son: “Does he mean that he saw them mating?”

I’m really proud that he was tactful enough to wait until we got back in our car to ask that, because I did not want to deal with ignorant parents who get so upset over such simple and honest questions.

Me: “You’re going to get a lot of people stopping by the deli just to laugh at the sign if you make me put that quote on it.”

Client: “Let them laugh. There’s nothing funny about it.”

Me: “It is sort of funny, in a childish way, you have to admit.”

Client: “No! ‘You’ll love the taste of our wieners!’ has been our slogan since my grandfather opened this place. And I want it in bright, proud colors out front.”