(My friend has recently returned to the UK after a holiday in Benidorm. It’s a notoriously popular holiday destination for Brits. We are both English.)

Me: “How was your holiday?”

Friend: “It was okay. I spent most of the time travelling away from Benidorm to other places. That place was horrible! The people were awful all the time! I felt so bad for the Spanish staff, since they were all really lovely. They must hate us. You’d walk down the street and there’s these English people sat outside all the pubs, off their heads. And they were really rude, too, really aggressive. This one bloke heard he wasn’t getting any more free drinks, and he smashed up the hotel bar. The things he was shouting at that poor bartender made me blush. I felt so ashamed to be British.”

Me: “Didn’t you expect it at all?”

Friend: “Well… you hear the stories. But I never believed it until I saw it with my own eyes.”

(I don’t think she’s ever worked in retail. It’s surprising how few people understand how bad customers can be… until they actually see it.)

(I’m at a well-known furniture store where there’s also a restaurant. Today there’s a special menu that’s cheaper than usual, but you need to have the store’s fidelity card, and only certain dishes are available. It is my turn to get the main dishes.)

Me: “Hi, I’d like two special menus.”

Worker: *happily chitchats with a coworker, ignoring me completely*

Me: “Uh… Hi. I’d like two special menus.”

Worker: *looks at me silently, doing nothing*

Me: “Could I get one of each kind of meatballs?”

(Still without saying a word, she proceeds to prepare three plates with meatballs.)

Me: “Why did you prepare three?”

Worker: “You asked for one of each, and there’s three kinds.”

Me: “Well, yes, but there’s only two available for the special menu.”

Worker: “You wanted the special menu?”

Me: “Yes, that’s what I said.”

(She then takes the extra plate off and again stays perfectly still, looking at me in silence.)

Me: “Okay, for seconds, it’ll be one salad and one chicken.”

Worker: *keeps silently looking at me*

Me: “Um… I said I want one salad and one chicken.”

(She prepares the plates and starts taking somebody else’s order without saying another word. I go to the cashier to pay for the food.)

Me: “Hi, this will be all. But there’s a bit of a problem; I forgot my fidelity card at home. Instead, I got this code on a machine that I’m supposed to use for this kind of thing? I’m not sure how that works.”

Cashier: *rings up my food* “It’ll be 16,98€.”

Me: “Is that the special menu price? I have this code I got on the machine, because I forgot my fidel—”

(The cashier starts talking with a coworker, ignoring me completely. After she finishes talking, she looks at me in silence.)

Me: “As I was saying, I forgot my fidelity card and I don’t know if this code I got will work for th—”

Cashier: “It’ll be 16,98€.”

Me: “Okay, but is that the special menu price? Because, as I have said, I forgot my card an—”

Cashier: “Oh, it’s a special menu? Then the price is…” *checks a bit* “…16,98€.”

Me: “So, it was the correct price. Good. Now, how does the code thing work? Because I d—”

Cashier: “I don’t need the fidelity card.”

Me: “Uh… Okay, I guess.”

(In the end I got exactly what I wanted, but I felt like I was talking to badly-programmed robots the whole time.)

(I work for a well-known pizza chain as a delivery guy, but I also occasionally answer the phone for pick-up orders.)

Me: “Welcome to [Pizza Chain]. How can I help you tonight?”

Customer: *silence, then muffled laughter*

Me: “Hello?”

Customer: *clumsily, as if he has trouble speaking* “Yeah, I… I’d like, uh… pizza.”

(By now it’s clear to me that he’s high as a kite.)

Me: “Okay, can you tell me your address, please?”

Customer: *muffled laughter*

Me: “Hello?”

Customer: “Say… If I don’t give you the address, you can’t deliver the pizza, right?”

Me: *deadpan* “Well, no.”

Customer: *hangs up*

(The same guy calls several times more, and all of the exchanges are exactly like this.)

Me: “Welcome to [Pizza Chain]. How can I help you tonight?”

Customer: *muffled laughter* “Yeah, uh…” *hangs up*

(My manager has been watching the whole thing, grinning.)

Me: “High as f***.”

Manager: “I figured.”

(I am the customer in this story. It’s the 26th of December, and I’m calling customer support for an online retailer.)

Me: “Yeah, you see, I recently received this package from you guys but I didn’t ask for it.”

Support: “Did you check or buy on our website recently?”

Me: “Actually, yes, I’ve bought a few things, just not this one. It’s a ship for one to mount and paint, you know? I don’t remember buying that.”

Support: “Did you receive some unexpected payment in your card?”

Me: “No, not, at all. Maybe it’s somebody else’s. Maybe somebody bought it and by some sort of mistake it came to me and now they’re waiting for it.”

Support: “Is your name on the package? Is it addressed to you?”

Me: “Yes, yes, of course it is. I wouldn’t have taken it otherwise.”

Support: “Sir, maybe it’s a gift from someone?”

Me: “…”

Support: “Sir?”

Me: “Uh… yeah, that makes sense. A gift. Of course. Thanks for your help.”

Support: “Thanks for calling and Merry Christmas, sir.”

(I’m teaching my girlfriend to play an old video game where you destroy blocks that slowly move towards you by putting “mines” on the ground and detonating them later. The game is fairly simple in that you can only move around a very limited space, place the mine with a button, and detonate it with the same button. The rules are also easy: you must destroy all blocks but the black ones. I explain all of this to her, but since she’s a really bad listener, I also make her watch the tutorial first.)

Me: “Do you have any questions on how it works?”

Girlfriend: “Nope, all clear.”

Me: “Cool, go for it.”

(I start the game and hand her the controller, but then she instantly makes the character run towards a block, starts mashing all the buttons, and dies, crushed.)

Me: “That’s okay; it was your first try. Just calm down a—”

(The game starts again and she does exactly the same.)

Me: “Honey, you don’t need to keep pressing every button. You’ve got time for everything; there’s no hurry.”

(The game starts once more and exactly the same scenario happens. For ten straight minutes she keeps running to her death while I try to explain to her how to play, but she doesn’t even acknowledge my voice or my presence. I try to touch her arm and gently shove her, but no reaction; it’s like she’s in some sort of trance. Finally, I forcefully yank the controller out of her hands and pause the game.)

Me: “What’s going on? What are you doing?”

Girlfriend: *looking at me like she just came back from another reality* “Huh? What?”

Me: “What were you doing?”

Girlfriend: “It didn’t work.”

Me: “There’s no way it’ll work if you just mash the buttons like that.”

Girlfriend: “No, but I did it because it wasn’t working.”

Me: “What wasn’t working?”

Girlfriend: “The mines were not moving.”

Me: “Why would they?”

Girlfriend: “It makes sense.”

Me: “When I explained the game to you, did I mention that you can move mines?”

Girlfriend: “No.”

Me: “When you watched the tutorial, at any point did it show you that you can move mines?”

Girlfriend: “No.”

Me: “And you died like 30 times trying to do it, even though it clearly wasn’t working.”

Girlfriend: “Yes.”

Me: “Then?”

Girlfriend: “It makes sense.”

Me: “So, you just made up a game mechanic in your mind against all options, noticed that it didn’t work at all, yet kept trying to make it work again, and again, and again.”

Girlfriend: “Yes.”

Me: “Why?”

Girlfriend: “It made sense.”