(I’ve found that with international travelers, they often have difficulty operating their various devices to connect to the internet. One day, a lady came to reception with a WiFi problem.)

Her: I can’t connect to your internet! It is broken!
Me: Have you connected to the (Hotel Name) signal, with the password hotel123?
Her: I used that password, but it says it’s incorrect.
Me: Which signal are you trying to connect to?
Her: (Router Brand Name)
Me: That’s not our internet signal, ma’am. You need to connect to (Hotel Name).
Her: But why can’t I connect to (Router Brand Name)?
Me: Because we don’t know the password. It’s not our WiFi signal.
Her: But why?
Me: …

(I work in a small supermarket in a rather upmarket area of Edinburgh. Like most British supermarkets, the store has a policy where if a cashier thinks you look under 25 and you are buying alcohol, they should ask for your ID. My boyfriend and I are waiting in the queue and we overhear an argument going on at the cash desk. A very posh, spoilt-sounding young woman is arguing with a cashier and the manager because she was trying to buy alcohol and didn’t have any ID with her. The poor cashier who was originally dealing with her is standing looking terrified in the background while the manager is speaking to her. The woman has two young children with her.)

Manager: “I’m sorry, madam, but if my staff member has asked you for ID and you do not have any, the law states that they or I cannot sell the alcohol to you.”

Woman: “This is ridiculous! I’m in here practically every day and no one has ever asked me for ID before! I have a five-year-old and a six-year-old; I have to be over 25!”

Manager: *extremely patiently, but getting more and more annoyed* “I cannot change the law just for you. As I said before, if you cannot produce any ID when my staff member asks you for some, then we cannot legally sell you alcohol.”

Woman: *turning to her children* “How am I supposed to buy them their supper now?!”

(She stormed out of the shop with her children, huffing and puffing as she left, and leaving a fairly large pile of groceries on the counter. My boyfriend and I spent our entire walk home wondering why on earth not being able to buy alcohol would prevent her buying ingredients to make supper with! It’s not like the cashier was saying she couldn’t buy any groceries without ID.)

(I have recently started working at a toy store close to where I live. I haven’t been fully trained on how to do everything yet, but I have had to deal with a few stock requests, so I feel confident enough with the system to address customer queries. A man in his late forties comes up to the service desk.)

Customer: “I’m looking for [Dollhouse]. Could you tell me if you have any in stock?”

Me: “Certainly. Is it [Full Name of Dollhouse Brand]?”

(He nods.)

Me: *after double-checking I have read the number correctly* “Six hundred.”

Customer: “Six hundred?!”

Me: “That does seem quite excessive, but that is what it’s telling me.”

Customer: “Erm, well, I need six hundred… and one.”

Me: “You need exactly six hundred and one dollhouses?”

Customer: *laughing awkwardly* “Yeah, that sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?” *runs out of the store before I can say anything else*

(A manager who was processing a return bursts out laughing.)

Manager: “Never mind him. He’s a nuisance regular we put up with. He usually comes in and asks for one or two above what we have in stock and complains when we don’t give him a discount.”

Me: “Oh…”

Manager: “For future reference…” *points to my screen* “If you tap the ‘Store’ tile, it will show you the stock we currently have here, instead of the regional stock.”

(I guess I should wait until my training is finished before taking any more queries.)

(We are remodeling the store in line with new guidelines. I have been working on the men’s department for the past day, and it is more or less complete. The store manager, however, has been getting annoyed with some of the changes, saying I am not being very design-forward — as though I’m actually choosing how things look!) 

Manager: “You see? This needs to be here, so that way you have more space for jeans.”

Me: “But the guidelines say jeans need to be reduced as they aren’t as in-fashion at the moment. Here this is the layout for our stand size.”

(She fans it away and orders me to change it, literally saying, “I order you.” I protest, but I do it, and she leaves to go and boss someone else around. By the end of the remodel, my coworkers and I are exhausted.)

Coworker: “Did anyone else get an earache from her Royal Highness?”

(We all nod.)

Me: “We’ve never had to remodel the whole store before, so I don’t know how flexible the guidelines are. But [Old Manager] always said to just follow it to the letter.”

Manager: *walking around the corner* “And that is exactly why he is no longer working here.”

Me: “No, it’s because he was promoted to director. He probably had a hand in designing these guidelines.”

(She scoffed and laughed at my “ignorance” before sending us home. I was not in again until a week later, but I heard the night before returning that there was an audit, and we marked seriously low because of the manager’s divergence from the guidelines. She apparently tried to place the blame on me, because I wasn’t there, but thankfully there were enough coworkers from that night to vouch for me. I was also given a heads-up that she was on the warpath and was probably looking for any excuse to fire us. She hasn’t managed it yet, but we think she won’t be with us for much longer, as apparently our old manager was very upset that his old store ranked the lowest in the region for the remodel and intends to visit to get everything back in ship-shape.)

(I am purchasing some things from a store shortly after it has opened. I am expecting £6.12 in change but receive £6.20, instead. Before I can say anything, the cashier turns to the woman beside her.)

Cashier: “Did you fill this drawer? Because there’s no f****** 1ps, 2ps, 5ps, or 10ps!”