(It is toward the end of my shift, so I go out to empty the gaming machines to put the money through the tills. As I take the box containing the money, a regular customer comes over and starts a conversation. It should be noted that I have red hair.)

Customer: *jokingly* “Are you stealing all the money again?”

Me: “I wish it was mine to keep! Sadly, it’s on its way to the tills.”

Customer: “Oh, good. People are probably a bit suspicious of you.”

Me: “Why’s that?”

Customer: “You know how it is. Everyone knows that people who steal tend to be gingers or—“ *leans closer and whispers* “—black people.”

Me: *speechless*

For several years I lived directly above a pub. It was incredibly noisy, but I loved being able to watch people coming and going. There were frequently stag dos dressed in elaborate fancy dress, such as blue body paint to look like Smurfs or mascot costumes.

Around midday on a Saturday, I suddenly heard a very loud horn blast followed by cheering from the pub. I looked out my window to see a man in a full fox costume, including a giant head and tail, sprinting down the street. He was soon followed by a yelling group of men, half dressed as dogs and half wearing tweed suits, high socks, and caps and running with children’s toy stick horses between their legs. One man carried a bugle and repeatedly blew on it as the group ran down the street after the fox, presumably going to the next pub.

(I work in a store that sells various kitchenware items, including electrical products. A perfectly pleasant lady whom I have just served at the till approaches me at the door on her way out.)

Customer: “Dear, can I ask you a quick question?”

Me: “Sure! How can I help?”

Customer: “Well, you probably can’t do anything about this, but I have a [Brand Name] food mixer that I purchased, but never have used. It was over a year ago, but it’s just too powerful! I switched it on once, but it scared me! Am I able to return it to you? Can you do something with it?”

(Our policy includes a several-year guarantee on electricals, so returning it with a proof of purchase would be totally fine in this case.)

Me: “Oh, no! Okay, do you have a receipt for it?”

Customer: “I expect so!”

Me: “Then that’s fine. Just bring it in to us and we can issue a refund to you with your store receipt.”

Customer: “That’s wonderful! It’s from [Different Store], and I’ll bring it in next time!”

Me: *blink* “Wait, I’m sorry; did you purchase the mixer here?”

Customer: “Oh, no, dear, from [Different Store]. Is that a problem?”

Me: “Ah. I’m afraid so. We can’t accept returns or issue refunds for products purchased from other companies, I’m sorry.”

Customer: *visibly disappointed* “Oh. Right… Even with a receipt?”

Me: “Yes, I’m sorry.”

Customer: “Oh. Well… What would you suggest I do with it?”

Me: “Hmm. Have you considered eBay?”

Customer: “Oh, that’s a good idea! I’ll get my daughter to help me with that!”

Me: “All right, then; good luck!”

Customer: “Thank you, dear!”

Related:
Doesn’t Understand The Custom Part Of Customer, Part 13
Doesn’t Understand The Custom Part Of Customer, Part 12
Doesn’t Understand The Custom Part Of Customer, Part 11

(I work for a bakery in a fairly affluent area. Because of the owner’s ties to the community, many of our customers feel they are entitled.)

Woman: “I’m here to collect 200 cupcakes for my son’s birthday party.”

Me: “I wasn’t aware that we needed to supply this. Did you place an order?”

Woman: *scoffs* “Of course not. My kind doesn’t make ‘orders’”

Me: “Then you aren’t getting 200 cupcakes.”

Woman: *affronted* “How dare you! What about those?!”

Me: “Those are for the local hospital, to be donated to the children’s ward.”

Woman: “I’ll take those, for free because of your attitude.”

Me: “They aren’t for sale. As I said, they’re for [Hospital]. They’re for charity.”

Woman: “You do not know the meaning of the word! I’ll just get in touch with [Owner] and let him sort you out.”

(She steps outside and speaks on her phone for a short while. She stares at me triumphantly through the window, and I start to worry that perhaps the owner will take her side. He arrives and they talk. She is getting very irate, and refusing to follow him through the door.)

Owner: “I’m sorry, [Woman], but I would much rather do this inside.”

(She glares at me while following him in.)

Owner: “Okay, what is going on?”

(I explain, and she interrupts me enough that the owner is starting to get very annoyed.)

Owner: “So, did you even place an order?”

Woman: “Do I look like someone who orders?!”

Owner: “You have to order if you want something in bulk. Even with everyone in today, we wouldn’t have the facilities to make that large a batch in two hours!”

Woman: “Then give me those cakes. Be charitable for once, you greedy c***!”

(This pushes him over the edge.)

Owner: “Those are for the hospital that took care of my daughter while she had leukaemia. I might have tried to pull something together for you, but now, you are getting out of my bakery and never coming back.”

Woman: “BUT MY SON’S BIRTHDAY! YOU’RE RUINING IT!”

Owner: “I haven’t ruined anything; you have. You’re a self-entitled b****, and you are now leaving.”

(He dragged her to the door and pushed her out. She screamed for a while and threw her bag at the window, which smashed it. She went pale and fled. The police were called and her husband offered to pay for the window. It was then that we learned that it wasn’t her son’s birthday, but actually, she had agreed to donate to the same hospital we were. She knew we were donating, and just assumed we would do whatever she wanted if she lied about why she needed them.)

(In the UK, before you are allowed to ride a motorcycle or moped (scooter) on the road as a learner you have to complete a one-day training course called Compulsory Basic Training (CBT) )

Me: “Good morning, *********, ***** speaking”

16 year-old: “Hi there can I book a CBT for Saturday please?”

Me: Yep, no problem, what’s your name?

16 year old: gives name

Me: (goes through whole spiel of how to find us, what to wear, how he can pay, what time to turn up, approximate time we would finish) “Don’t forget to bring both parts of your driving licence with you”

16 year old: “I need a driving licence??”

Me: “-”

(This has happened on more than one occasion!)