Me: “Hello, sir, may I see your ID?”

Customer: “Why?”

Me: “I’m supposed to get ID when someone buys beer.”

(The customer just continues to stare at me, as if expecting more of an explanation.)

Me: “It’s the law.”

Customer: “So, you just do whatever the government tells you to do?”

(I’m not really sure how to respond, so I just remain silent. The customer suddenly becomes obscenely angry.)

Customer: “Honestly, you’re no better than those Nazis throwing Jews in the oven!”

(He rattles off some more nonsense about how I’m a Nazi for daring to ask for his ID, and then some switch in his brain goes from crazy to horny.)

Customer: “But you’re pretty cute, so I guess I can show you just this once.”

A few years ago, I used to take the buses to come home from a coffee shop where I worked.

There was a homeless man at a gas station with a sign, asking for money. I made good tips there, and usually this was money that I use to buy food for dinner every night for my children, but that day I was okay, so I decided to give him my entire bag of tips. I was feeling good about it, so I turned back to look at him when I had walked away.

That man took out the dollar bills out and was throwing the bag with the rest of the money away in a trash can! I was mad! Yes, it was change, but probably at least $10 worth of change!

I marched right back up to him, took the bag out of the trash and took the bills back straight from his hand! I felt bad, but I was mad that he had just thoughtlessly thrown out good money.

I bought groceries for my kids, instead.

I went in for an outpatient procedure to have a uterine ablation. They were getting me ready for the procedure, and had already given me the stuff to make me sleepy. I asked if I could use the bathroom first. I started to get sleepy and asked again to use the bathroom.

“You’re all done. We just finished the surgery.”

It was the weirdest feeling! I literally blinked and it was over!

(I intern at a museum in downtown Salt Lake City. It’s a really slow day, and only six customers find their way into the museum during my five-hour shift. A grandfather and his grandson come in. I’ve shown them around the museum, and I get to the science demonstrations. It’s some pretty simple stuff, like baking soda and vinegar, or other such scientific demonstrations. This exchange takes place after I’ve finished the experiments.)

Grandfather: “What dinosaur is that?” *points to a canine skeleton in the cabinet behind me*

Me: *trying not to laugh* “That’s a dog skeleton, sir.”

Grandfather: “Oh… Then, where are the dinosaurs?”

Me: “Sir, while this is a museum, we don’t have the space for such an exhibit.”

(My coworker cuts into the situation.)

Coworker: “He’s right, sir. We don’t have any fossils exhibited here right now.”

Grandfather: “Then, where is your dinosaur exhibit?”

Me: “…”

Coworker: “…”

(He continued asking me where the dinosaurs were, despite me telling him multiple times we didn’t have any. His grandson looked rather exasperated throughout the entire exchange.)

Me: “Hey! How are you today?”

Customer: “Great! Hey, do you have hot chocolate, but like… over ice?”

Me: “We can do a chocolate milk for you, absolutely!”

Customer: “No. Hot chocolate, but over ice.”

Me: *sigh* “Yeah, we can do that for you.”

Customer: “Awesome!”

Me: “What size would you like?”

Customer: “Uh, medium.”

Me: “Okay! Anything else for you today?”

Customer: “Nope! That’ll do it!”

(I hand him his drink in a cup we typically serve hot drinks in; we make an exception for cold milk.)

Customer: *drink is already in his hand, so he’s felt the temperature, which is very well cold* “Oh, sorry, but I wanted this iced.”