A lot of couples come into the cinema to get some special sexy time, as they are young and can’t get their jiggy on at home. We can always tell as they are usually between seventeen and nineteen, they look nervous, and they ask which films are popular and then choose the ones that no one is watching.

One day, this couple comes in, and we go through the usual bit of, “Is this film any good?” They go see “Match Point”, a boring film about tennis. Twenty minutes later, they come back looking extremely angry, and they complain, demanding a refund.

Customers: “The screen is too busy!”

I work in a takeaway chicken store which is conveniently located right next to a pub/bar. One Wednesday night, this guy stumbles in, clearly drunk out of his mind.

Customer: “I want dinner!”

Me: “What it is exactly that you’re after?”

Customer: “Just some f****** chicken, vegetables, and gravy!”

I order him exactly that. He pays and sits down to wait with no problems. When it’s ready, he comes to the counter.

Me: “Would you like cutlery?”

Customer: “Yes.”

I pack his meal into a bag with cutlery, napkins, etc. He is just about to leave the store when he looks into the bag and totally loses it, screaming in a store full of customers.

Customer: “What the f*** is this, a plastic knife and fork?! I can’t eat with this; I need real ones for f***’s sake!”

Me: “Sorry, sir, we only have plastic.”

He took his meal out of the bag and launched it over the counter at me. Luckily, he was drunk, so his aim was terrible and he ended up hitting the wall.

As soon as this happened a guy sitting in the dining room grabbed him and pulled him out of the store, and he stumbled away.

I live in the English countryside, where most roads don’t have paths or sidewalks. The highway code here states that if there is no path, pedestrians have to walk against traffic to the side, so as far right as possible. This is for the safety of the pedestrians, as drivers will recognise faces more quickly than the backs of heads. Everyone knows this and mostly abides by this.

I was having a pleasant run in the winter sun down a quiet country road with no path. In the distance, a group of people appeared, walking shoulder-to-shoulder across the width of the road toward me.

“No problem,” I thought. “I will just run to the right side tight to the edge of the road.” I was running closer, and the group of people saw me and started filing to their right side. Great; they knew the score.

Then, suddenly, a woman from the group broke ranks and started walking toward me with kids in tow. I continued running until she stopped right in front of me and started yelling.

Woman: “I’m not moving! I don’t have to!”

Not one for being bullied, I explained to her the highway code and why I was running on this side. But, alas reason was not gifted to the Entitled Jerks of the world.

Woman: “I was run over on this road! You should move for me!”

I was through with this woman, so I yelled back.

Me: “Well, you and your kids will get hit again walking on the wrong side!”

She looked shocked, and then she turned to scream at the group.

Woman: “Did you hear that?!”

The group walked on without her. Not one looked back.

Then, the kids, embarrassed, walked on, as well. Finally realising she couldn’t bully people in public, the woman walked after her kids.

I ran on my merry way on the correct side of the road.

A lady and her kids pop in our store to get a pizza. The lady’s kid orders a large pizza. When the pizza is made, the kid collects it and walks out of the store with the lady.

A few minutes later, the lady returns with the pizza, furious, and drops it on the counter yelling at me, because I took the order.

Customer: “My kid ordered a large pizza, and you cheated him and gave him a regular!”

I check the contents of the pizza. A slice is half eaten, but the pizza contents and size are correct.

Me: “Madam, this is the correct size pizza.”

I show her the different boxes we use for the different sizes.

Customer: “You’re just hiding the large boxes!”

Me: “Madam, what makes you think that this pizza is not large?”

Customer: “The box has ‘regular’ written over it!”

She pointed to something just underneath the logo on the box: the ® trademark symbol.

Customer: “Young man, perhaps you’d like to explain why you’re selling cheese that has gone bad?”

Me: “Because that’s our pesto-flavoured gouda, madam. It’s supposed to be green.”

Customer: “Hmph! Then why is this cheese full of mould?! It’s not blue cheese!”

Me: “That’s our sage derby, so it’s sage you’re seeing in the cheese, not mould.”

Angry now, the customer eyes a random item on the other side of the aisle.

Customer: “Well, what about these cheese wheels?! They’re covered in furry mould! That can’t be hygienic!”

Me: “That’s because those are flat peaches, madam.”

Exasperated, the customer stormed off, satisfyingly cheesed off.