I am working as a waitress.

Me: “Good evening. What can I get for you?”

Customer: “Well, you tell me. I am allergic to sugar.”

The guy at the same table, presumably on a date, speaks up.

Other Customer: “Is that even possible? Like, wouldn’t you die without sugar?”

Customer: “Oh, I mean I’m on a diet. It is just what I tell people so I don’t they don’t add any to my meal. I think I will take the ice cream.”

I had to go to the kitchen to laugh. The guy left halfway through their dinner.

I work as an adviser in the technology department. Smart TVs with cameras are the new big thing, and I have been answering some questions for two older gentleman customers for about an hour and a half. The conversation is going great, we are having a joke and a laugh, and I have demonstrated the use of the camera for motion control. Right as I’m closing the sale with a quick roundup of all the information regarding price and delivery:

Customer: *Turns to his friend* “This will be great. I can’t wait to get this home and set up. Maybe now I will finally catch those witches that have been living in my garden on camera.”

I thinking this is probably a joke between friends and is probably referencing a group of kids that maybe hang around his house, so I decide to keep quiet and carry on printing out his payment confirmation.

Friend: “I know, [Customer]! They have been terrorizing you for years; it will be good to get some proof so we can get rid of them.”

The customer turns to me, completely straight-faced.

Customer: “You know, I have witches living at the bottom of my garden. No word of a lie. They come out at night and dance round a giant fire in my back garden, and then by morning the fire has gone out and they are nowhere to be seen. You believe me, don’t you? You must believe me.”

Me: “That is very strange, Mr. [Customer]. I hope you do get them.”

I hand him the receipt and delivery information.

Customer: “I’ve seen these witches, I have. Seen them with my own eyes. I have never caught them on camera because they know. They know and I am being punished. Take this as a warning from an old man. Don’t ever get caught up in this. Witches are evil menaces. Be careful always.”

The customer then turned and left, leaving me gobsmacked, wondering if what just happened was real! Not my worst customer I have ever served, but definitely the strangest interaction!

My dad had six years with no claims on his insurance and his current insurance was up for renewal in around three months.

We were shopping one day and when we were heading back to the car, we were hit with over ninety-kilometre-per-hour winds. Thus, when my dad went to open the car door, it was blown out of his grasp and hit the door of the car next to us. We checked a few times and realised the only damage was a scratch in the paint as his door just scraped the outside of theirs. 

We waited for them to come out and when they did, my dad calmly explained what had happened and that it was an accident, handing over his insurance details along with his phone number in case this other guy’s insurance needed to hear it from him, too.

The guy was fine with it and said there was no use to get in contact with them as it was only a light scratch. Between them, over the course of ten or fifteen minutes, they agreed for my dad to pay for the scratch to be painted over. We left it at that, other than confirming where the “repair” was getting done so my dad could pay them, and we took pictures. There was text communication between them over the next few days confirming this was what was agreed.

Everything was all done and dandy… or so we thought. When it came time for my dad to renew his insurance, he was shocked at the quotes he was getting. He was currently paying approximately £300 per annum, and the cheapest he was being quoted was £550. He suspected there was an issue with the website, so he called them up to speak to someone where he was given the same quotation.

Understandably, he was confused, so he asked why it had almost doubled when he’d had a six-year no-claim bonus. The operator promised they would look into it and call him back within the hour. When he got the call back, that was when he found out this other guy did file a claim, despite saying he didn’t feel like they needed to as the matter had been solved civilly. My dad had proof of this via text. He was told that the other guy had provided pictures of “extensive” damage and had been awarded a payout.

Now, my dad was even more confused. A paint scratch is not extensive damage, and he’d covered for it to be repainted.

He told the operator all of this and it was just silent for a long time. Then, he was told to submit all the evidence online, but he didn’t have Internet at his house, so it was agreed that someone would be coming around to assess the evidence a week from then. They also confirmed that they had placed a temporary hold on the insurance to cover the time period.

So, a week later, we got a knock on the door. We assumed it was the person being sent out — alongside a police officer. That was when it dawned on us how serious this was. We showed them the evidence, including dates, times, messages, pictures, etc. Then, they asked for the name of the company who repainted the car and we gladly gave it. It was only a mile from where we lived. We both assumed they went there to confirm things with the owner of the place, but we were kept out of the loop for another fortnight whilst they investigated.

Finally, we got a call and the full picture came out. They had ruled in our favour. The guy in question had gotten into an accident a month or so later, which was where the extensive damage came from. He’d worded it that my dad was the cause, but my dad’s picture, alongside messages, proved the timing did not fit. The payout he’d been awarded had to be paid back in full to the insurance company and my dad’s rates would be lowered to £320, which was roughly what he was expecting it to be. We found out in the local newspaper that the guy was found guilty of insurance fraud and got stuck with a large fine alongside a six-month jail sentence.

I work for a company that deals with queries from students regarding loans. We tend to get lots of strange questions, but this one I find frustrating.

Student: “Hi. I’m wondering when I’m getting my final payment for first year.”

Me: “Okay, it seems that we have overpaid you so you won’t be getting any more money.”

Student: “Yes, but when will I get my payment for first year?”

Me: “You won’t. We’ve already overpaid you; you won’t get more money.”

Student: “Yes, but I sent in medical evidence.”

Me: “You did. We have looked at it and decided we’ve already given you too much money. You were also advised this when you called last week.”

Student: “Yes, but my colleagues get more money than I do.”

Me: “I can’t comment on what other people get; however, as I have stated, you have been overpaid so you won’t get more money.”

Student: “Okay, but when will I get my last payment for first year?”

Me: “You won’t get any more payments for first year as we’ve overpaid you.”

Student: “I don’t understand why. I sent in medical evidence.”

Me: “Yes, I know. As I’ve already stated, we have looked at this and you aren’t entitled to any more money; we have already given you too much.”

Student: “Yes, but my colleagues got more than me.”

Me: “Again, I can’t comment on other people’s financial situations.”

Student: “Okay, so when am I getting my payment for first year?”

Me: “You’re not getting any more money from us; we’ve already given you too much. I have explained this four times now.”

Student: “Okay, I understand.”

I don’t think he understood. I checked his course and he was going to be a doctor. I worry about his future patients.

I’ve more or less had enough of my job. The customers are the worst I have dealt with, and although other staff fairly share their time on the till, I’m generally just put on a till and forgotten about. All in all, I’m out of patience.

On one day like this, a gentleman comes to the till with a single can of beer taken from a pack of four. We don’t sell them this way. There is only a price for the four-pack. Also, due to a fairly new minimum alcohol unit pricing law, we legally cannot reduce the price lower than a certain amount.

Me: “I’m sorry, we can’t sell those singly.”

Customer: “Seriously?”

Me: “Seriously.”

Customer: “Well… just scan it through!”

Me: “I can’t. The price will come through as the four-pack since the barcode is for a four-pack of beer.”

Customer: “Reduce it. Work out whatever they normally are divided by four. If you can.”

Me: “I know maths, but because of the alcohol law, I cannot reduce it. The till will think I’m selling a four-pack for £1.15.”

Customer: “Oh, just do your job and scan it! I don’t have time to argue!”

I do as I am told and scan it.

Me: “Okay. That’s £4.60.”

Customer: “What? For one can?”

Me: “As I told you, we don’t sell them singly. The till assumes there are four. You might as well get the other three.”

The customer glared at me and got the others. We finished the transaction in silence. I’m quitting that job tomorrow. It can’t come fast enough.