(I very occasionally lose my brain-to-mouth filter and interesting stuff happens. Most of the time when I lose my filter I’m around friends and family, but this time…)

Me: “All right, that will be [total].”

(A customer who is an elderly female first pulls out a large bill, then says:)

Customer: “Hold on. I think I have exact change!”

(She pulls out a couple of small bills and a LOT of singles.)

Customer: “You’d think with all these singles I’d have enough!”

Me: “Well, hey, at least you’ll be set if you need to go to a strip club.”

(The moment I’ve said it I want to scream in horror at what I’ve said, not just because of who I have said it to, but because one of my supervisors is standing four feet away! And the look he gives me is one of equal horror to my own. Thankfully:)

Customer: *laughing hysterically* “Oh, lord, that is the truth, though!”

(I work in a popular pet supply store. A woman with a male dog comes through my line. The dog has a cone on his head, leading me to believe he has recently had a surgery of some sort, so I ask what happened.)

Woman: “Oh, well, he just had a little snip-snip ‘down there,’ if you know what I mean.”

Me: *petting dog* “Poor baby. I’m so sorry that happened to you! Bet you were a brave boy!”

Woman: “Well, he’s not a boy now!”

(My eyes bulge out of my head and I stop for a moment to peek “down there” with a worried expression on my face. The woman, realizing I thought she had a transgender dog, began to talk very fast.)

Woman: “NEUTERED! He was neutered! He is still a boy! I can’t imagine a situation where you’d do… Not that I’m against that sort of thing! Just so much money for a dog! How would you even tell they’d want that?!”

(I work at a daycare, and kids say some pretty funny things.)

Four-Year-Old: *holding up his shirt and looking at his chest* “ Miss [My Name]!”

Me: “Yes?”

Four-Year-Old: “I have itty little bitty boobies!”

Me: “Umm…”

Four-Year-Old: “Miss [My Name]?”

Me: “Yeah?”

Four-Year-Old: “You have great big boobies!”

(I wear an A-cup.)

I am babysitting my two-year-old niece one morning while her parents are at work. While we’re sitting there, watching cartoons, my phone rings with a number I don’t recognize, but it says it’s local. I rarely answer the phone for numbers I don’t recognize, but as I’ve been putting out a lot of job applications lately, I decide to risk it.

I answer and am greeted with a robot saying that I’m being contacted about my tremendous credit card debt, and how legal action is being prepared against me. They ask if I would like to talk to a collections officer about it. I select to talk to a real person and get a man on the line.

I proceed to ask him to remove my number from his list, because I don’t have a credit card, and I have never had a credit card.

He responds with “Hey, how about you come down here, and I’ll give you $20 to suck my d**k?”

I freeze up in a case of “Is this really happening?” and stare at my phone. After a moment, I finally manage to come up with a response of “Only if you suck mine first, sweetie.”

Never had someone hang up so fast in my life. I went back to watching Peppa Pig with my niece.

(I’m a personal banker. One of the tellers has just sent a customer over to my desk, as he’s insisting that his balance is lower than it should be. Note: I’m female. Both the customer and I are in our 20s.)

Me: “Good morning! So, you have a question about your account balance?”

Customer: “Yes. When I checked my online banking this morning, I saw charges on there that look a little weird. I think someone hacked my account.”

Me: “No problem. I can look into that for you. I just need to see your ID so I can look up your account.”

(He hands it over, and I pull up his account. I see 10 to 15 charges over a two-day period from multiple adult establishments and bars in another state. I can feel myself starting to blush. Since there are other customers around, I can’t blurt out what I’ve found, so I decide to try jogging his memory.)

Me: “Ah… I think I’ve got some answers for you.”

Customer: “What? What is it?”

Me: “Sir, did you travel to [State] on [dates]?”

Customer: “Sure did. It was my buddy’s bachelor party!”

Me: “Okay, it looks like these charges are coming from [State]. What sort of… um… places did you visit in [State]?”

Customer: “To be honest, I can’t remember.” *laughs* “Are they charges from bars?”

Me: “Yes, there are a few of those.”

Customer: “Okay, those are probably mine. What other places are coming up?”

Me: “Let me turn my computer screen around and I’ll show you.”

Customer: “Why? You can just tell me.”

Me: “I’m really not comfortable with that.”

(I turn my computer screen to face him and wordlessly point at each charge.)

Customer: “I didn’t do those. Nope. Not me.”

Me: “So, you made the charge at [Bar] at 1:00 am, but you didn’t make the charge at… ah… this other place–.” *points at strip club name on the screen* “—at 1:45 am? Did one of your friends get a hold of your card?”

Customer: “D*** it! Okay, I am responsible for all those charges! I remember them! But I didn’t get what I was after. Services were not as described. Can I dispute the charges if that’s the case?”

(My face is now undeniably bright red.)

Me: “Ah, well… since you admit to freely making the charge and using their… services, you’ll have a hard time getting the fraud department to refund your money. I can call them for you and file a dispute, but no guarantees.”

Customer: “Hmm… can you refund the money?”

Me: “I’m not authorized to do that. And even if I was, you just admitted to me that you made the charges yourself so I wouldn’t be allowed to.”

Customer: “FINE. Just leave them. I still think I should get a refund. Services not as described.”

(He walks out. The teller who sent him over emails me.)

Teller: “What were all those charges?”

Me: “Bars and strip clubs. He says services weren’t as described.”

Teller: “EW! I’m so sorry I ever sent him over!”