I do dry cleaning. Normally, we safety pin a tag or two to mark your clothing so it won’t get lost. A man walks in and puts his sport coat on the counter.

Customer: “You put a hole in my sport coat!”

Me: “Can I see it?”

He looks up and down the coat and gets frustrated when he can’t see it.

Customer: “Well, I can’t find it now, but it was the size of a pinhole! You need to sew it shut!”

Me: “If it was the size of a pinhole, then wouldn’t me trying to sew it shut just make another pinhole?”

He looks at me in the eye for like a solid fifteen seconds.

Customer: “I think that’s the stupidest question I’ve ever asked anyone. I’m sorry.” 

And then, he walked out. I never saw him again.

I work in a sportswear shop that sells footwear and men’s and women’s clothing. I’m down the back of the shop in footwear, fixing laces, when I hear a shout come from the ladies’ section.

Customer: “Hey! Dude!”

I look up.

Customer: “Would this fit my girlfriend?”

I shout back.

Me: “I don’t know. Where is she?”

Customer: “She’s at home.”

Me: “Well then, I don’t know.”

Customer: “Isn’t it your job to know?”

Me: “You want it to be my job to know your girlfriend’s sizings?” 

Customer: *Thinks* “No, I’d rather it wasn’t!” *Walks away*

I’m the bad employee in this story! It’s just past our lunch rush on a sleepy Sunday morning. A man comes into our restaurant and orders a beer and a burger — a typical Sunday afternoon meal. I put in his order, deliver his beer, and… completely forget about him being sat on the outside terrace.

About twenty minutes later, I wander outside to take a look and see a very confused, hungry, and angry patron waving his hands as if to say, “Where is my food?!”

I rush back to the console and realise my error: I forgot to put in his burger! I run upstairs to the kitchen, beg them for the next fresh burger that comes out, and run downstairs with it to the guy.

Me: “Sir, here is your burger. I am so, so sorry for the delay—”

Customer: “Yeah, I have to be on my train in forty minutes!”

Me: “Sir, again, I profusely apologise, it was my fault your burger did not arrive in time; I forgot to put it in our system. If you would like a takeaway box we can do that for you, but I assure you, you will not need to pay for the burger.”

Customer: “Okay, thank you.”

I meander back indoors. I’m pissed off and annoyed with myself. The restaurant has only three other tables; how could I forget his order? I decide it’s best to leave him alone and let him enjoy his food in the meantime. I check back twenty minutes later with his bill ready to go, just in case.

Me: “Sir, if you need to catch your train, I have your bill here for you so I do not delay you any more than I have already.”

Customer: “I appreciate that. Can I see the bill?”

Me: “Of course. Here you go.”

The bill only states his beer for payment; the burger has not been added.

Customer: “I will pay for the burger; it’s the least I can do for snapping at you.”

Me: “Sir, it’s not a problem. I forgot to put your food in, and that’s my fault.”

Customer: “I really do not mind. You were honest with me about your mistake.”

Me: “Sir, I insist.”

Customer: “Okay! How much was the burger again?”

The burger was around 145 Swedish kronor. I watched as he added that exact figure to the gratuity screen; he was tipping me for my honesty.

Sometimes, just being honest really is the best policy!

I have a moment during my teenage years that I’m not particularly proud of. I bought something from a scientific catalog called the “Impossiball”. It was basically a half-foam, half-rubber ball that wobbled in the air and didn’t roll down ramps because of its undistributed weight. The magazine described it as “defying gravity,” and I, being the idiot thirteen-year-old that I was, got mad and called the company.

Me: “You guys have some false advertising! When I opened the package, the ball didn’t float!”

Employee: “You’re complaining because a $3 ball doesn’t float in mid-air?”

To this day, I have no idea what I was thinking.

I see a man walk up to our store’s entrance and simply stare at the door. He approaches it, does nothing, and then steps back a few times. He spots me staring at him and calls through the door.

Customer: “Are you open?”

Me: “Yes, sir! Come right on in!”

Customer: “The door won’t open!”

Me: *Opening it for him* “You have to push it!”

He stares at me and then at the door, and then the penny drops.

Customer: “Oh, my God, I am such an idiot! I totally forgot that doors aren’t always automatic!”

We both chuckle a little bit as he walks inside. Literally seconds later, a woman walks up to the door and does the same song and dance that the gentleman did earlier.

Customer: “That is my wife. She just parked up and is following me.”

Me: “Is she going to need the same help you did?”

Customer: “Yes, but let’s wait a moment. She’s usually so much smarter than me, so I need to enjoy this for a moment longer.”