(We have a bunch of coupons out, one of which is a standard “two can dine” for $9.99. A customer and his wife come up to the counter and he hands me said coupon. I go through the process of ringing in the order and everything is fine until I give him his total.)

Me: “Okay, the ‘two can dine’ coupon with [items] comes to $11.70.”

Customer: “How much is it after the coupon?” 

Me: “That is the price with the coupon. It’s $9.99 plus tax.”

Customer: “So, I only owe you $1.70 because the coupon says $10?”

Me: “Sorry for the misunderstanding, but it’s actually two combos for $9.99. That’s still a significant savings over the regular price of two combos.”

Customer: “But the coupon says I get $10 off!” 

Me: “I’m sorry, but no, it doesn’t. The price is $11.70 after tax and that’s with the coupon applied.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous! Your other store wouldn’t do it right, either!”

(With that he stormed off, leaving the coupon behind.)

(My company provides English tutoring in Japan, and we are contracted to work a certain number of days each month. If we are unable to work but have no sick days or vacation days available, we are asked to trade a later day off. If we choose not to do that, our pay is docked accordingly as we are not working the contracted number of days. [Coworker #1] does not seem to get this. He’s only been here a couple of months, but he’s constantly calling out, and [Coworker #2], who follows [Coworker #1]’s social media accounts, says she’s seen him posting pictures of himself at clubs or in other cities on some of the days he claims he’s sick. Finally, one day, a few of us are hanging out and he starts complaining about things.)

Coworker #1: “Man, I’m so broke… I have to go pay my electricity bill tonight, but I don’t know if I’ve got enough money to buy food next week…”

Coworker #2: “Didn’t you just go to a club last night? Maybe you should cut down on things like that until you’ve got a little more money saved up.”

Coworker #1: “But this job is just so boring! I have to have something fun to do on my days off. But yeah… I guess you’re right. It just sucks that they tell you that you’ll be getting [salary] and then they do everything they can not to give it to you.”

Coworker #3: “What do you mean by that?”

Coworker #1: “You know, they tell you they pay [salary], but then they cut your pay when you get sick.”

Me: “They only cut your pay if you’re working fewer days than you’re scheduled for. Didn’t you call out like eight times last month? How many of those did you use sick days for? Or make up later?”

Coworker #1: “Well, yeah, but I wasn’t feeling good! I’m all out of sick days. I didn’t make them up, but that’s another piece of bulls***! They tell you that you get 117 days off and then they don’t want you to use them!”

Coworker #2: “Uh, dude. You realize those are your regular days off, right? Not vacation days.”

Coworker #1: “What?!”

Me: “That’s weekends and holidays. We get a total of 117 regular days off during the year. Then, we get [number] sick days and [number] vacation days. Did… did you think you got 117 vacation days to just take off whenever?”

Coworker #1: “Well, yeah, that’s what the contract makes it sound like!”

Coworker #3: “No. No, it isn’t. Go back and read your contract again.”

(We’ve been trying to give him advice and encouragement from the start, but between how often he calls out and how unenthusiastic he seems about the job in general, we’re not expecting him to last much longer.)

Some years ago, when I was in seventh grade — ages 13 to 14 — we had physics and chemistry as a combined course. One day, we were all sitting in the lab while the teacher was talking. Suddenly, we all heard a “woosh” and people screaming. One of the boys was apparently bored and had built a small bonfire of matches, doused it with turpentine, and set fire to it! The flames were huge but thankfully died out quickly with a little help from the fire extinguisher. 

Everyone was thankfully okay, but one girl got some of her long hair burnt off, and her T-shirt had no back anymore. It was the only time my class got sent home early.

The girl had to get a bob haircut to save her hair. The boy’s parents had to pay for the haircut and a new T-shirt. The boy had to sit at the teacher’s desk every time we had physics/chemistry from then on. When asked why he did it, he just stated that he was bored and didn’t know how much damage he would cause. The burn mark from the fire was still on that table when I graduated.

Me: “Can I have your name, please?”

Caller: “Tanya.”

Me: “Is that Tanya with a Y, or Tanja with a J?”

Caller: “Tanya with a T.”

(I am in line at the post office waiting to post some mail for work. In front of me is a rather irate customer.)

Customer: “I’d like to check up on a letter posted ‘tracked.’” 

Clerk: “Of course, sir.” *asks for details* “Okay, sir, it appears the letter has been returned to the sender as no one answered when we tried to deliver it.”

Customer: “That can’t be right. This letter is very important; it has copyrighted documents in it! I posted it to myself!”

(The customer leaves unhappy and the clerk and I share a look.)

Me: “Did that really just happen?”