(My husband and I have a housemate. This housemate is also my co-worker and a friend of ours. We have been playing [Popular Multiplayer Online Game] off and on for years. The game requires a monthly subscription fee, and back in August our housemate wanted to play as well, so we spotted him the cost for a month to check it out. Instead of using the “Gift Time” option, my husband put our card on the subscription. We asked him to remove our payment information directly after, so as to avoid future charges. He told us that he did and that we did not have to worry. The very next month, however, I notice a charge on our account.)

Me: “Hey, [Housemate], did you remove our card information from your game account?”

Housemate: “Yeah, I did that right after the first month’s charge went through.”

Me: “Could you please check again, just to make sure?”

Housemate: “Oh. Apparently, it didn’t remove it.”

Me: “Okay. To be safe, remove it, and also cancel the subscription all together. Then you can renew it with your information. Just send me the confirmation for it.”

(I wait a few days, then check back with him, and he assures me that he confirmed everything was removed, but he never sends me the actual confirmation email. Unfortunately, come October, yet another charge has hit.)

Me: “[Housemate], I have another charge listed on the account. You said you removed our card, didn’t you?”

Housemate: “Yeah, I made sure it was completely removed. It’s charging my account, not yours.”

Me: “Could you please double-check it for me?”

Housemate: “I already removed it.”

Me: “Fine. I guess I’ll be calling the bank, then. Just get me a screenshot of the cancellation record, please.”

Housemate: “Oh, wait. I guess it is mine.”

Me: “What?”

Housemate: “Yeah, somehow I have a double subscription. I’ve fixed it now.”

(I still haven’t received any proof that he resolved it. My husband and I have definitely learned our lesson, though.)

Me: *greeting an elderly customer* “Hello, how are you?”

Elderly Customer: “I am fine and dandy, you?”

Me: “Tired, ready to get off in 30 minutes.”

Elderly Customer: “You think you have problems?”

Me: “Uhh…”

Elderly Customer: “You’re not black. Black people have problems.”

Me: “Uh…?”

Elderly Customer: *points to the cashier* “She has problems.” *points to one of my supervisors* “He’s black, so he has problems. See, you’re white, so you don’t know what it’s like to have problems like they do, especially ones caused by us white people.”

Me: *silence*

Elderly Customer: “Okay, y’all have a nice day.” *leaves*

(Not so sure what those problems have to do with how I am feeling, but okay.)

(Hurricane Harvey is in the area. While my section of Texas is clear of the core of the storm, the rain bands cause quite a bit of flooding along with, understandably, a decline of people. We have already been allowed by corporate to shut down the restaurant early if we aren’t turning a profit for six 15-minute periods straight. We are not making profits and, thankfully, the weather isn’t getting worse in our area. Therefore, the manager has decided to close the restaurant and has already posted signs on all the doors and drive-thru window, and has slipped a sign behind the plastic of the menu board. I am still wearing the headset while helping my coworkers and manager, who is also wearing a headset, take care of cleaning, storage, and the like, when I hear a ping. I ignore this for a while until I hear the customer.)

Customer: “Hello, I’d like to—” *starts rattling off a 20+ item order*

Me: *interrupting the ordering* “I am sorry, sir, but we are closed due to the hurricane.”

Customer: “Yes, and I’d like ten large sodas—” *starts to rattle them off*

Me: “I am sorry, sir, but we are closed, due to the weather. We will be open again at 10:00 am tomorrow, and we do apologize for the incon—”

Customer: “I thought this was a 24/7 restaurant and, besides, it’s only 10:15!”

Me: “First, we are not 24/7. Second, even if we were, we are closing due to the storm, as indicated by the sign on the menu board.”

Customer: “Are you going to take my f****** order or not?!”

Me: “Sir, we are not able to make you anything as we have closed early. Please look at th—”

(I hear the car screech away and think this is the last of it until we hear a constant stream of honking from the window. As I’m the closest to the window, cleaning some of the equipment nearby, I decide to try again by pointing to the sign.)

Sign: “Due to inclement weather, the lobby will be closing at 8:00 pm and the drive-thru will close at 10:00 pm. The store will re-open at 10:00 am without breakfast menu items. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

(They just honk their horn before trying to force open the window, at which point I get my manager.)

Me: “[Manager]! GET OVER HERE, NOW! HE’S TRYING TO BREAK OPEN OUR WINDOW!”

Manager: *grabbing the store phone and her own cell phone* “Get your cell phone ready to call the police.” *yelling through the closed window* “SIR, WE ARE CLOSED DUE TO THE HURRICANE! WE ARE TRYING TO CLEAN AND GET EVERYTHING READY FOR TOMORROW! IF YOU DO NOT LEAVE, WE ARE GOING TO CALL THE POLICE!”

(The customer starts using strings of curses and insults, and almost causes a wreck getting off of our property onto the street. After a few minutes of trying to process what happened, we all start to get back to work and think this really is end of it. Sadly, a few moments later, the phone rings and my manager answers it.)

Manager: “Thank you for calling [Restaurant]. Just to let you know, we are closed right now du—” *pause* “Sir, we have several signs up on the doors, windows, and the menu board. Furthermore, we could have called the cops on you when you attempted to break and enter. Lastly, through the window we saw you speed into the street in front of another car. If you have any issues with us closing early due to this storm, then you are free to call [Corporate Phone Number], but they were the ones to inform us that we are okay to close early as needed.”

(About two days later, we heard that the customer did indeed try to make a complaint, claiming we served other customers after he left, that we were discriminating against him, and various other bulls***. However, they were all dismissed, and his phone number, along with details from the outside cameras, were given to police for them to handle.)

(I work for a sizable company as tech support.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Product] support. This is [Name] speaking. May I ask who I’m speaking with?”

(The woman on the line has a rattly, elderly voice.)

Caller: “What’s a [Product]? I don’t have a [Product]; I have a computer. I need help with my computer.”

Me: “Yes, m—”

(The customer refuses to let me get a word in. I try, but every first syllable I’m talked over. I am honestly impressed how little this elderly woman needs to breathe.)

Caller: “So, I have a new [Operating System #1] computer and I don’t understand; my [Operating System #2] worked just fine. But I don’t understand; it says there’s networks. I didn’t make any networks. I don’t know what a network is. What is [Someone’s Network]? Who is that? I certainly don’t know. I think people are on my network.”

Me: “Ma’am—”

Caller: “That’s not right! What are they doing to my network? All my computer has is pictures of my grandchildren and my ducks. I don’t want people to have pictures of my grandchildren.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. I unders—”

Caller: “You don’t know what kind of creeper could be looking at them. I have lots of grandchildren. But my husband died in 1991. I think that’s ten years ago. No, that’s fourteen. My husband died fourteen years ago.”

Me: “I’m sorry to hea—”

Caller: “He’s the one that got me my ducks. My whole yard is full of ducks. I don’t think he wanted me to have this many ducks, but my grandchildren love them.”

Me: “Ma’am, I—”

(The customer continues to go on endlessly about her ducks, grandchildren, dead husband, and occasionally about the “hacker network,” for the next ten minutes before I finally get enough words in:)

Me: “Ma’am, unfortunately, you’re in the gaming department. What I can do is transfer you to [Company] central—”

Caller: “But I don’t have games; I have a comput—”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, I understand that. Let me bring you to the computer people.”

Caller: “Oh, bless your heart. Thank you.”

(I put the customer on hold, dial the appropriate department, punch in the commands, and patch her in.)

Agent: “Hello, thank you for calling [Company] support. Who am I speaking with?”

Me: “I’m sorry.”

Agent: “Huh?”

Caller: “Oh, thank you. I need someone to help me get rid of these networks. I only have two browsers. One is a folder for drivers and the other is—”

Me: *hangs up very quickly* “HEY, [BOSS], CAN I GET MY BREAK NOW?”

(My boyfriend has a German Shepherd who, while playing at the dog park, cut his paw on something. We are looking at the injury on our bed, trying to keep the dog calm.)

Me: “Here, let me take the blanket off the bed so he doesn’t stain it.”

Boyfriend: “Thanks, babe.”

Me: “No problem. I have dealt with plenty of blood in my life, and I know how hard it is to get stains out of fabric.”

Boyfriend: *looks up at me in horror*

Me: “I menstruate.”

Boyfriend: “Oh…”