(I’m teaching a high-school government class. As with most teachers, I have a few students who can be stubborn about doing their work, but one especially stubborn girl drives me crazy. This is just one occasion. On Thursday:)

Me: “The test will be tomorrow. For today, we’re going to play a review game to make sure everyone knows the material. You can take notes during the review game, and use those notes on the test. You cannot use your textbook or your regular notes.”

Stubborn Girl: “Why does the test have to be on Friday? Fridays are the worst day for tests. Can’t you change it?”

Me: “Nope. We have to keep to the schedule set by the school.”

Stubborn Girl: “Can we at least use our notes on the test?”

Me: “You can use the notes you take during the review game today, but not the notes you took during the unit.”

Stubborn Girl: “What about our textbook?”

Me: “Nope. Just take notes during the review game, and you’ll have all the answers for the test.”

Stubborn Girl: *trying to be sarcastic* “What if I just write down everything you say today and use that, huh?”

Me: “Perfect! That’s exactly what I want you to do! Let’s start the review game.”

(We play the review game. Naturally, [Stubborn Girl] refuses to take notes. On Friday:)

Me: “Okay, let’s get this test started.”

Stubborn Girl: “You should change the test to Monday so we can study over the weekend.”

Me: “I told you, I can’t do that. Do you have your notes from the review game yesterday?”

Stubborn Girl: “No, because you said we couldn’t use our notes for the test!”

Me: “I said you can’t use your regular notes from the unit, but your review game notes were okay.”

Stubborn Girl: “Well, I didn’t take notes because you said we couldn’t use our notes. Whatever. I guess I’ll just fail the test, then.”

(I had to bite my tongue really hard to keep from making any remarks that might cause her to complain to the principal about me. Not surprisingly, she did fail the test, as well as the class. As a teacher, I obviously don’t like it when students fail my classes, but this girl failing didn’t bother me at all.)

(I am processing a return for a customer. Though we have a chip reader, returns still have to be processed by sliding the card.)

Me: “All right, the machine down there will have you slide your card for this return.”

Customer: *inserts their card*

Me: “It’ll actually have you slide instead of using the chip, since it’s a return.”

Customer: “But my card has a chip!”

Me: “Yes, but for this one, you’ll need to slide.”

Customer: “It’s inserted! I don’t know what you want me to do!”

Me: “The return can’t process with the chip. It can only be processed by sliding the magnetic strip on your card.”

Customer: “I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE SAYING! MY CARD HAS A CHIP!”

(My job as a cashier requires me to ask EVERY customer if they want a store credit card. I hate doing this; I figure they’ll ask for one if they want one. When I push the store card — after heavy pressure from management, promising a $0.50 incentive for every application, denied or otherwise — I often have interactions with dim bulbs. This is one in particular I remember. The customer hands me the completed card application and I’m running to fill in the information at the computer about twenty feet away. Yes, this holds up the line and, yes, management insists we still do it. I notice a problem with the application and I come back to the customer.)

Me: “Sir, you need to fill in your social security number.”

Customer: “Why do you need my social?”

Me: “For the credit check.”

Customer: “Why are you checking my credit?”

Me: “Because this is a credit card. Our system will run a quick credit check based on your information to determine if you qualify for the card.”

Customer: “Why do you need my social security number for that?”

Me: “Well, I think it needs your social to check your credit.”

Customer: “I never give my social to anyone for any reason. Ever.”

Me: “Okay. But I can’t get you the store card, then.”

Customer: “You have no right to be demanding my social security number. That is personal information!”

Me: “That’s fine; I’m not demanding it. But I can’t run this application without it. Would you like to pay a different way?”

Customer: “So, you’re refusing to give me a store card because I won’t share my social security number?”

Me: “I’m sorry. I can’t even get the computer to accept the application without it. If you don’t want to share it, I can’t run the application.”

Customer: “This is an outrageous invasion of privacy. Here!” *hands me another credit card*

(I say nothing else and complete the transaction. I am hoping the next customers will validate me a bit by saying something like, “Boy, that’s crazy!” but they are so mad about being held up at the register that I am the bad guy.  Later, I’m trying to turn the application in to management for my $0.50 incentive:)

Manager: “There’s no social on this. Did you put this in the system this way?”

Me: *recounts story*

Manager: *rolls eyes* “Yeah, they ran some story about social security numbers on [Evening News Magazine Show] a few nights ago, and every time they do that we get people who refuse to share their socials. It’s dumb.”

Me: “Do I get my $0.50?”

Manager: “No, sorry. If it’s not registered in the system, I can’t give out the $0.50.”

(I went to the break room and stared longingly at the bag of chips I wouldn’t be having that day.)

(It’s almost time to close at the sub shop I’m working at. A lady I estimate to be in her 60s comes in with a coupon to buy a sub and any drink to get the next sub free, which we allow. This is what ensues.)

Me: “Hello. What can I get started for you?”

Customer: “I have this coupon.” *reads off coupon* “So, I want a six-inch [sandwich #1] on [bread], and a six-inch [sandwich #2] on [bread]. Make sure you toast the bread thoroughly; I can’t stand [Store] bread when it’s not toasted.”

(I ask what cheese she wants and get ready to put them in the toaster. As I open the toaster she says:)

Customer: “Wait, what are you doing?! I want the bread toasted; I told you I can’t stand [Store] bread when it’s not toasted.”

Me: “Well, our standard protocol when toasting sandwiches is to have the meat and cheese on already so everything gets cooked.”

Customer: “No, no, no, just toast the bread, or it won’t get cooked thoroughly. I know your ovens; they don’t cook the bread if it has everything on it.”

Me: “All right.”

(I toast the bread twice bare and once more with the meats on them. The bread is very much darker at this point, but not burnt. Vegetables go fine, no issues there, but every so often she gets angry and impolite when she has issues with the way I’m doing things, and then she switches back to normal behavior. We get to the checkout process. She has two sandwiches and a drink which qualify for the coupon, and she also has a bag of chips and another drink.)

Customer: “How much extra will it be if I buy a [bottled drink] instead of a cup?”

Me: “Can you read what your coupon says so I can check?”

Customer: *ignores my question and asks the same question in a more hostile tone*

(I ask her to read the coupon again; she does so.)

Me: “All right, since it specifies any drink, the price would be the same.”

Customer: “Good.”

(I enter her items into the register and she sees the total on her side.)

Customer: “Wait, what? Why is it [price]? It should only be [price a few dollars less].”

Me: “Well, the first sandwich and the first drink are normal price, which makes the second sandwich free, and the system sees the second chips and drink as a meal with the second sandwich, so it discounts them even though the second sandwich is still free.”

Customer: “No, it still should be [lower price]. I think you’re doing it wrong.”

(We have this circular argument about three more times. Meanwhile, other customers are waiting and I am running out of time to start closing procedures.)

Me: “Would you like me to explain how that coupon works one more time?”

Customer: “I don’t care how the coupon works; it still should only be [lower price]!”

(I have no other way to explain to her the prices and calculations, so I just tell her each of the prices, and I am surprised to see her take one of our napkins and start doing the math herself. She then asks me to confirm each of the prices in a not-so-polite manner. This goes on for about five more minutes. She then realizes…)

Customer: “I might be doing the math wrong.”

Me: “All right, so we’re all clear here?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “All right, here’s your receipt. Have a good night.”

Customer: *jokingly* “I wonder where my son gets all his nagging from.”

(We finished up there, she left, and I apologized to the next customers for the wait. This whole exchange cost me twenty minutes and was a contributing factor in our late departure at the end of the night. Not once did she apologize, but maybe she forgot to…)

(I met my boyfriend at the outlet store where we used to work. As I am manning the register and he is straightening a nearby display of coats when I hear this exchange.)

Customer: *shouting* “This coat is from [Major National Bulk Retailer]! Oh, my God, you stole this!”

Boyfriend: *very confused* “What?”

Customer: “This coat is [Major National Bulk Retailer] brand! I know! I shop there all the time! You stole this!”

Boyfriend: *flatly* “No, we didn’t.”

Customer: “So, that’s how you get your products?! You just sneak them off of better store’s trucks?!”

Boyfriend: “No, [Outlet Store] buys the excess stock that they can’t sell from several different retailers and resells it at a lower cost.”

Customer: “You’re lying! I know you stole this! I’m going over there and telling them right now!”

Boyfriend: “Okay. Go ahead. I don’t think you understand how outlet stores work.”

(The customer marched to my register, slammed her shopping basket onto my belt, and stormed out the front door angrily, never to be heard from again.)