I’m originally from Sweden, and as such, Swedish is my native language. When I am twenty-four, I need a change, so I get a job in UK and move to a small town. I am working mainly with Swedish customers, and I am very insecure about my English abilities. I have a tendency to get my languages mixed up.

I am on a call and I suddenly need to clear my throat while speaking, so I do.

Caller: “Are you okay?”

Me: “Yes, I’m sorry. I just got a cock in my throat.”

The Swedish expression is that you get a rooster in your throat, but I mixed the words up. The customer started laughing, I blushed, and my coworker next to me had to go offline because he was almost on the floor from laughing so hard.

I am a supervisor in womenswear in a department store. Recently, our store manager has let us know that if someone comes in with an item that goes on sale after buying it within two weeks, we can return it and give them the cheaper price. This department store is a bit smaller than a lot in our chain, so it has fewer brands.

One day, a slightly snooty woman comes in.

Customer: “Hi, I bought this [Brand we don’t stock] dress in [Closest Large Store] this weekend, but it’s now gone on sale. Can I get it cheaper here?”

Me: “That’s within our policies, but we don’t sell the brand in this store, so I can’t verify the sale price, I’m afraid.”

Customer: “Well, I found the price online, so I’ll just show you on my phone.”

Me: “Sorry, but I can’t accept that as proof. Sometimes we do online-only sales, so the fact that it is reduced online doesn’t necessarily mean you get the same price in-store.”

Customer: *Sighs* “Look, just ring it up, okay? I make way more than you do in your pathetic little job, so I know if you just scan it through, it will come up with the right price, okay?”

I bite my tongue so I don’t respond to her rudeness.

Me: “Our tills don’t always—”

Customer: “JUST DO IT!”

I sigh internally and try to scan the dress. As I thought, because we don’t sell this brand, it won’t come up on the till and I cannot verify the price she told me, which is £80 less than what is on the tag.

Me: “I’m very sorry, madam, but there is no way for me to process this; the till won’t allow me. As I can’t verify the price, you’ll need to take it back to [Closest Large Store] before two weeks are up and they’ll be able to do it for you there.”

Customer: “Ugh, fine, whatever.”

She leaves. A coworker who was waiting to speak to me asks a question, and I ask her to take some clothes from my fitting room as she goes back to her area. Five minutes later, she comes back.

Coworker: “Just thought you should know that that customer is trying the same trick in the handbags department.”

Me: “What?!”

Coworker: “Yep, but they’ve already started to process the sale, so it looks like we’re losing £80 off our sales.”

I am fuming at this; shrinkage and returns are something my job performance is measured by. Minutes later, I get a call on my management phone from the manager.

Manager: “Hey, they’re having a problem with a return in handbags. Could you go and take a look? I’m doing rotas in my office.”

Her office is up three floors, so this isn’t an unusual request. However, since I know the problem, I’m angry.

Me: “I know precisely what problem they are having!”

I launch into a full explanation, during which I am a little mean about how I think the customer is scamming us. When I’ve finished, the phone line goes very quiet, and I fear I’ve gone too far.

Manager: “Go and tell that b**** where to stick it.”

Me: “Really?”

Manager: “Go nuts. I’ll back you up if she complains.” *Ends the call*

Trying to keep the smug grin off of my face, I head over. Noticing that the customer is getting impatient with waiting, I decide being ultra-polite and professional will infuriate her more. I speak first to the handbag assistant.

Me: “You needed help from a manager?”

Customer: “Wait, you’re a manager?!”

Assistant: “Yeah, she wants to get the sale price on this dress. I’ve tried it on the till, but it won’t scan it right.”

Me: “Yes, I understand.”

I turn to the customer.

Me: “And as I explained to you earlier, madam, you will need to take this to [Closest Large Store], as we do not carry this brand in-store. It’s not against policy, as I explained to you earlier, madam, but we physically cannot do it. As I explained to you earlier, madam.”

Customer: *Spluttering slightly* “Yes, well, I thought you were incompetent and couldn’t work the till.”

Me: “Oh, I understand completely why you came to a different till. But as I explained to you earlier, madam, we cannot do this and you will need to take this to [Closest Large Store]. As I explained to you earlier, madam.”

Throughout this whole exchange, she has been getting more and more irate at my calm demeanour.

Customer: “Fine! I’ll go!”

She storms out, knocking some stock over as she does so.

Assistant: “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to undermine you. She didn’t mention she’d already tried to return it!”

Me: “Of course, she didn’t. And hey, no worries. I got to tell her off. I haven’t had that much fun in ages!”

It did make me smile for the rest of the day!

I’m the stupid one in this story. For the last two months, I’ve been having issues with my Wi-Fi; my phone has barely been connecting to it, and even when it does connect, I can’t seem to load anything. I get an email from my provider near the start of this about them doing work around my area, so I should expect problems for the next few weeks, but after two months of problems, I phone to see what’s going on.

Me: “Hi. I’ve been having issues with my Wi-Fi. I know there’s been work going on around my area, so I was wondering when that will be done and everything will be back to normal?”

Tech Support: “Okay, I’m looking here and it looks like the work has been finished. Can you connect to your Wi-Fi?”

Me: “Yes, sometimes, but I can’t seem to load anything when I’m connected.”

Tech Support: “Okay, what do the lights on your router look like?”

Me: “The main light is blue; I don’t see any other lights.”

Tech Support: “Okay, can you go ahead and unplug the router for me for thirty seconds?”

Me: “Oh, my God, I’m such an idiot. I’ve been dealing with this for so long and I forgot to do the most basic thing!”

I unplug the router, wait, and plug it back in, and everything works again.

Me: “Well, looks like you can put me down as another silly customer that phones tech support for something she could have fixed herself.”

Tech Support: “Well, ma’am, you didn’t shout at me, so you’ve got that going for you, at least. I hope you have a pleasant evening.”

My company has asked a load of us to help out in the factory on a special project. It means long days in the cold, but it’s extra money and they promise to feed us.

Day one is tough, but we make it fun. Lunchtime comes around and they take our orders for pizza — meat and vegetarian options. Everyone kicks back and tucks in.

Day two is just as difficult as before, but we are in a rhythm, we work hard all morning, and they come round and offer fish and chips. Most have fish; some just have chips. It’s really cold and the hot food goes down well.

Then, one of the younger guys pipes up, going on about fried chicken.

Coworker: “Yeah, let’s get fried chicken tomorrow.”

Me: “Err… not everyone eats meat. I just can’t eat it. We should have something everyone wants.”

Coworker: “Nah, it will be great! Let’s get chicken.”

Me: “Do what you want, but these meals are for everyone, not just what you want, okay?!”

A few more people chime in to agree; they don’t eat meat or just don’t want greasy chicken. I think nothing more of it until the next day.

On day three, we are getting tired and people are making mistakes, but we make it through to lunch. Management comes round asking what chicken meals we want.

Clearly, [Coworker] has gone behind everyone’s back. I am honestly a bit pissed off.

Manager: *To me* “So, what meal can I get you?”

Me: “Oh, nothing for me. I can’t eat it.”

Manager: “Oh, really? [Coworker] said he spoke to everyone and they were happy.”

Me: “Not really, but if most people are happy, then I can just get my own.”

Manager: “Are you sure?”

Me: “Yeah, it’s fine.”

I take a long lunch and grab myself something to eat. I come back to find half of the team missing. The manager is stressed, worrying about finishing the work on time.

It turns out that [Coworker] didn’t bother to ask anyone. Half of the team wasn’t happy, either, and decided to get their own lunch. Some were stuck in traffic, some were just late, and some were chatting or went back to the office first.

Things were so delayed that we didn’t finish our quota for the day. A couple of guys — including me — volunteered to work even longer to make up the time lost. When asked, [Coworker] stated that he “didn’t want to” and left.

My brother-in-law has no behavioural or other issues, apart from being deeply selfish and an idiot. This story is an example of his typical behaviour.

I have two children, ages five and seven. My brother-in-law has convinced himself that he is their favourite person, despite the fact that he never makes any effort with them and they never mention him or have any interest in seeing him.

We’re having a garden party, which my brother-in-law attends. He is sitting around our house, he’s ignoring everyone, watching football on his phone. The next thing I know, he has got an airhorn from somewhere and is dancing around, blasting it in blips.

Brother-In-Law: “Heyyy, champions!”

Me: “Pack it in, will you? We have neighbours.”

He keeps dancing around, ignoring me. 

Brother-In-Law: “Champions, champ-i-ons!”

Thankfully, someone grabs the airhorn off him, and he sits himself back on his phone sulking. I dish up the food and chat and eat. I try to involve him in conversation, but he only looks up from his phone to give a one-word answer.

I set some garden games up for the kids, and some of the adults join in, too. I see [Brother-In-Law] helping my youngest line up a shot with a toy mini golf game. I sit and enjoy watching them. Then, [Brother-In-Law] brings out the airhorn from earlier and puts it up to my youngest’s ears just as they are taking a shot.

Me: “If you even think of pressing that, you will be taking your teeth home in a bag.”

Brother-In-Law: “Yeah… like I was really going to do that.”

Thankfully, his wife dragged him home before long. But who brings an airhorn to a garden party? And who in their right mind aims it that close to a child?