(I am the last person serving at my cinema before close. An obviously drunk guy comes in with his girlfriend to buy a load of tickets to our final show of the night.)

Me: “Okay, that comes to [price]. Can I get you anything else?”

Customer: “You could give me a discount on the tickets.”

Me: “Oh, did you have some of the [vouchers given to customers with tickets that can be redeemed for money off their next purchase]?”

Customer: “No, but you’re going to take some off the book and backdate the stamp for me.”

Me: “No, I’m not. That’s strongly against our policy.”

Customer: “But a girl did it before!”

(This argument goes on for a while before he finally gives up, swears at me, and demands a large popcorn.)

Girlfriend: “Uh, can I have a Coke, too, please?”

Me: “Sure.”

Customer: “Better make that a diet! Have you seen the size of her?”

(The girl is maybe a UK size 14 at a push — hardly fat, not that it would have made it any better if she had been. Regardless, her face falls and she stares at the ground.)

Me: “Did you want a regular coke?”

Girlfriend: *sadly* “No… He’s right. I better get the diet, I guess.”

(I poured her a regular and popped the diet sign on the lid. She took a sip and smiled at me, but cuddled up to him, anyway. His group showed up shortly after and they all went into the theatre together, of course leaving all their crap behind afterwards. I hope that girl came to her senses and got away from that eventually.)

(I recently began work in the hotel side of a pretty renowned local restaurant with a Michelin star rating. I was worried that my coworkers would be stuffy or very serious, but instead they’re very down-to-earth. They’re very careful to be professional but friendly with guests, but we have a good laugh when everyone is checked out. Guests can be a bit of a mixed bag — as we all know! — so when we serve breakfasts in their suites, conversation is generally reserved to polite questions about dinner in the restaurant the night before. One morning this conversation transpires.)

Coworker: “So, how did you find your dinner last night?”

Guest: “Oh, quite wonderful. I’m still full! I don’t know how I’m going to manage after this breakfast!”

Coworker: *without thinking* “Not to worry; go for a jog around in the garden outside to work it all off!”

Guest: “This is a five-star establishment!“

(There is a moment of pause as we begin to run through all the ways this conversation could hurtle rapidly downhill. My coworker, thinking he is offended, makes to try and preemptively smooth over the situation.)

Guest: *laughing* “I would expect someone to go outside and do the running for me!”

(I annually volunteer to run a shop for a charity when they have a stall at a country and outdoor fair. This isn’t by any means a ‘professional’ shop; the charity corporate sends items and prices and I set up the shop and basically watch that nothing gets stolen. The bulk of our stock is promotional leaflets and informative things, but also free badges, lanyards, magazines, and kid’s activity books. Most of the items we sell are also promotional or charity endorsed, such as bronze badges and DVDs. All of the funds go back to the charity. A family are milling around my table: a couple of kids, their mother, and their grandfather.)

Me: “Please feel free to help yourself to the things on that table. Would your kids like a badge each, perhaps?”

Guest: “Oh, great!”

(They gather round the table and help themselves, mostly to badges and kid’s activity books. I don’t mind the badges — corporate sent hundreds — but we don’t have that many kid’s activity books and I’m watching a good chunk of them disappear when I’ve still got a good two days of running the stall. But, I realise that I can’t really fault them because I told them to help themselves!)

Guest: *holding up lanyard* “Is this free, too?”

Me: *smiling, not knowing what else to say* “Yep!”

Guest: “Great.” *proceeds to pass one out to all her family members*

Daughter: *looking at the gilt lapel badges for sale* “Can I get one of these?”

Guest: “A pin!” *to me* “Oh, she wants to be like her granddad; he’s a [Charity] member!” *calling* “Grandad come look at this!”

Grandad: “Ah, I’ve got one like that!” *to Daughter* “Tell her that your granddad’s a member, and you get a discount!” *laughs*

Me: *smiling, knowing most of our customers are also members and HQ would have my skin if the money-box came back short* “That’ll be £4.60 for you today, please.”

Daughter: *gets the money out of her own pocket and is very polite* “Thanks!”

Me: “Thank you! Enjoy your day!”

(They leave, I restock my very depleted freebie table and think that’s that. They weren’t exactly the worst possible customers. Then, an hour or so later, the whole troupe spills back into the stall.)

Grandad: “She’s lost her badge. We were up at the archery.”

Me: “Oh… I’m sorry to hear that.”

Grandad: *tugging at the one I have pinned down on the table* “Yes, she wants another one.”

Me: “We still have several here under the table, I’ll just get you a new one.” *I do* “£4.60 please.”

Guest: “Didn’t you hear? She lost it.”

Me: “I understand; that’s very unfortunate. I’m really sorry, but I can’t give you a replacement for free.”

Grandad: *irate* “But she lost—”

Older Volunteer: “Is everything okay here?”

Grandad: *quickly thrusting a five pound note in my direction* “Fine, fine. The wee lassie here was just seeing if you’d any more badges in stock!”

Me: “And here’s your change. Thanks again!”

(They did leave for good after that, but not before taking another handful of lanyards and buttons!)

(I’m helping my sister redecorate her room whilst she’s home from university for summer vacation. We’re in the middle of prep work, sanding down the woodwork and windows. It’s a loft room with Velux windows that open inwards. I’m downstairs making hot drinks for a tea break. I hear my sister come downstairs and turn to give her her tea, but her facial expression is disturbingly blank.)

Me: “What the heck happened to you?”

Sister: “I opened one of the windows to clean the frame with mould spray. A spring-loaded spider — one of the fat ones — got launched at me. It bounced right off my nose.”

(A pause.)

Sister: “So… now I have to go get the belt sander and sand off my face. There’s no other way.”

Legally, you cannot refuse someone a glass of water when they ask for one, even if they are fresh off the streets, potentially mad and not planning on buying anything…

Random lady, “Can I have a glass of water with lemon, please?”

Bar owner, “Sure. Would you like ice?”

Random lady, suddenly demonic and shouting, “I’M DIABETIC!”

Pause

Bar owner, “So no ice?”