(This post office is in the back corner of a shop. In the post office queue, the guy at the front is taking ages, getting annoyed.)

Guy: “Look, get me your manager. I was told this would be fine. She’ll back me up.”

Cashier: “Do you mean the manager of the post office or of the whole store?”

Guy: “The post office, obviously. God, are you stupid?”

(The cashier makes a phone call, and it’s obvious the manager tells her to go along with the guy’s demands.)

Cashier: “Okay, then, we’ll just need to see some ID…”

Guy: “But didn’t your manager tell you who I am? She’s a friend of mine, you know.”

Cashier: “Sir, my manager’s a guy, so…”

(The guy shut up and handed over his ID.)

(I work for an internationally popular skincare brand, known for having affordable and luxury pricing to offer each client options. The skincare requires over 36 hours of training to learn, so we ensure each client can speak with an ambassador so they don’t injure their skin. Still, people skip talking to us to follow beauty bloggers who know little about skincare. In this case, one such woman comes in with two friends. I overhear a customer:)

Customer: “Oh, yeah, I put on Glycolic Acid and Alpha Lipoic Acid every morning before doing Retinol. I love how it makes my skin tingle. You guys need to try it.”

Me: “Excuse me, but do you mind if I ask you a few questions about your routine? We generally recommend using those products separately and in the evening to avoid irritation.”

Customer: “Yeah, well, [Beauty Blogger] says these products saved her skin, and she uses them the way I do.”

(I attempt to politely explain to the client and her friends that this is not a good idea, so that I don’t injure the client’s pride.)

Friend #1: “Okay, but [Beauty Blogger] has gorgeous skin, so we’re just going to do that, even if it’s irritating.”

Friend #2: “Yeah, just show us where they are.”

(I concede and take them to the products, explaining each one as I go, done with being magnanimous.)

Me: “Okay, so, these three will make your skin photosensitive to light, so not only can you give yourself a sunburn, you can get chemical burns from using them all together, which will prematurely age your skin. [Beauty Blogger] must have a great dermatologist fixing her skin if she does all this damage to it.”

(The two friends look at their friend in horror before turning back to me.)

Both: “So, what would you recommend?”

(I work at a popular Canadian coffee chain, largely credited for coining the term “double double,” and we get a lot of foreign tourists or immigrants who aren’t familiar with the menu.)

Me: “Hi! What can I get for you today?”

Customer: “I want a double double, medium size, one milk, three sugars.”

(We’re actually quite used to this happening, as some people seem to think “double double” is the name of our coffee. We’re encouraged to gently educate people unaware that it’s not.)

Me: “Oh, sir, a double double is actually just a phrase that means two creams and two sugars. For future reference, just order a medium one milk three sugars to avoid confusion!”

Customer: “No, I want a double double.”

Me: “So… you want one coffee double double, one milk three sugars?”

Customer: “No, double double! One double double!”

Me: “O… kay.”

(I proceeded to tell the coworker making my orders — who was at this point quite confused — the customer’s actual order. The customer got the coffee and paid the total, and then left with some angry-sounding muttering and a harsh glare. My supervisor who happens to speak the language the man was muttering in informed me he’d just called me a useless b****. Ah, people.)

(In the early 2000s, I work as a cashier for a beer retailer. As you would expect, we have a good mix of customers, some friendly, some not so much. It is about five minutes to close when a customer shows up. There is only one person working besides me.)

Customer: “Give me [beer order].”

([Coworker] goes to get the order.)

Me: “Your total comes to [total].”

Customer: “Oh, s***! I forgot my wallet at home. Stay open until I get back!”

Me: “Sir, we close in five minutes. I can’t promise we’ll be open.”

Customer: “You stay open or I’ll drive my f****** truck through the window!”

(Ten minutes later, he comes back. We haven’t closed off the till yet, so we let him back in to buy his beer.)

Me: “Sir, we’re just part-time employees doing our jobs. There’s no need to threaten us.”

Customer: “Have you heard about the bank robberies in the neighbourhood?”

(There have been two or three bank robberies in the area in the past few months.)

Me: “Yeah…”

Customer: “Maybe you’ll be next!”

(With that, I typed up a report of what had happened, which both my coworker and I signed, and left it for the store supervisor. We also included the guy’s license plate number, which the store supervisor included in his police report the next morning. The customer was banned for life when he next returned.)

(A mother and her eight-year-old come into the clinic. She says the kid was using the end of a pencil to scratch his ear the previous day and the eraser came off and he accidentally pushed it in while trying to get it out. She can’t get it with tweezers. I flush the ear to remove the eraser and notice a few things.)

Me: “There are clear signs of a swimmer’s ear infection. Fluid has been trapped behind that eraser for a lot longer than a few hours. The eraser would also not nearly be this… encrusted… after such a short time.”

Mother: “[Son] only told me about it yesterday. He said it had just happened. [Son], when did the eraser get stuck in your ear?”

(We both eye the child. He fidgets for a few moments before…)

Son: “Christmas break.”

(This is in MARCH!)

Mother: “What?! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Son: *defiantly* “Well, it only hurt if I touched it and I don’t sleep on that side!”

(Kid logic is my job security.)