A colleague (quite a bit older than me) is measuring out cable (sold by the metre) in front of a customer, against a measuring tape, and running it to around ninety-one centimetres whilst counting off each metre.

Me: “Uh, mate, that’s not a metre.”

Colleague: “Three feet to a metre.”

Me: “A metre is a hundred centimetres, so that’s not true.”

Colleague: “No. Three feet to a metre. Always has been.”

Me: “There is literally a one metre mark a bit further up the tape you’re using.”

Colleague: “No, that’s a metric metre.”

Me: “I mean, yes?”

Colleague: “Three feet is an imperial metre.”

Me: “No, that’s a yard.”

Colleague: “Yeah. An imperial metre.”

Me: “A metre is a metre, and it’s always a hundred centimetres.”

Colleague: “What do they teach you lot in school these days, eh?”

Me: “More than what they taught you, apparently!”

Colleague: “Fine, you know everything? Measure it yourself.”

He holds his hands up and storms away. I smile at the customer and offer to remeasure the cable.

Customer: “Thank you! I was a bit confused when he told me the price, but per “imperial metre”. He told me it was also a yard, but I just thought that was the thing that Kelis’s milkshake bought all the boys to…”

I’m surrounded by… interesting people.

I walk up to a bus stop and sit on the bench. Next to me is another person, speaking loudly on the phone.

Stranger: “You need to figure out if there’s any other medication I can take except for this one!”

Pause.

Stranger: “Because it makes me fart like nothing else! I can’t trust them! I’ve been playing the ‘fart or sh*rt’ guessing game all f****** day, and I’ve lost three times! Hold up, my bus is here.”

To my horror, his bus pulling up is also my bus.

He boards, but I stay seated. I can wait for the next one…

A lady and (I assume) her mother are buying a toy. It was one big thing; I can’t remember exactly what, and it was in a decent-sized box. I put it through the till and asked for the £30.

Customer: “It’s only £5.”

I explained that it was definitely £30 and had never been lower.

Customer: “It’s £5 on the shelf. You’ve got to give it to us for that.”

I still doubted it, but I went to have a look at the shelves to see if there was a mix-up. It was £30. The ticket was quite clear, saying it was £30. I went back and explained that, with the ticket to prove it.

Customer: “It’s marked as £5. You’ve got to give it to us for that. Got to.”

I politely explained that I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, as it was correctly priced.

Customer: “You’ve got to.”

So, I asked them to show me. They took me to a different area of the shop, away from the toy department, and pointed to an empty shelf.

Customer: “It says £5. You’ve got to give it to us for that. GOT TO. YOU’VE GOT TO.”

It was an empty shelf where our cheap kettles went. Again, I said that it was a different item, and the toy was clearly marked at the right price. I even apologised for someone else dumping it in the wrong area.

Customer: “Got to. You’ve got to give it to us for £5. GOT TO.”

I had to get my manager over. He backed me up.

Customer: “YOU’VE GOT TO. IT’S THE LAW. YOU’VE GOT TO.”

They eventually left, dumping the box on my till and storming out in a huff.

Their reaction and refusal to back down always stuck with me. They seemed to have this belief that no matter what the item was, the ticket on the shelf was the price, regardless of whether or not it was the right item in the first place.

I work in a large warehouse. Managers of certain warehouse sections (warehousemen) often hire new apprentices to help out with the lower-skilled work.

Warehouseman: “Hey, [New Apprentice], I need you to clean up some of the cardboard boxes that are lying around here. Take them out of the main floor of the warehouse.”

Apprentice: “You’re just giving me all the s***ty jobs!”

Warehouseman: “I’m giving you jobs that need doing, and that you’re here to do.”

Apprentice: “Ugh. I’m so tired already. Can’t someone else do it?”

Warehouseman: “Come on, it’ll be character-building.”

Apprentice: *Genuinely serious.* “I don’t even know where the Character Building is, so I can’t do it.”

The new apprentice only got an inkling that he was mistaken about something when I couldn’t hold in the laughter any longer.

When I worked for a flooring company a few years back, we had a promo running in the local newspaper. I didn’t see the advert itself but knew the promotion because we bought in a ton of the stuff, put it outside on a big pallet, and slapped a “£1.99 per square metre” price on it.

Along comes an older guy asking:

Customer: “I want the £1.99 a box of laminate flooring.”

Me: “That price is per square metre.”

Customer: *Insistent.* “No! The advert said per box.”

Me: “If you have the advert that says that, I will honour it immediately.”

Of course, he doesn’t have it, but he remains insistent, saying:

Customer: “Of course it’s the price per box! That’s how [Competitor] prices theirs.”

Me: “Well, this is how we’re pricing that laminate based on the current sale.”

Customer: *Super angry about it.* “I’m going home to get the advert, and when I come back I expect an apology!”

You already know he didn’t come back.