My husband and I are playing a game with our four-year-old daughter where we have to babysit her dolls while she goes out to work. She comes back into the room after a second or two.

Me: “I thought you were at work?”

Daughter: *Dramatic sigh* “It was closed. Now nobody has to work there.”

A few seconds pass. Our daughter walks to the doorway.

Daughter: “Now I have to go back to work and shut that boss’s mouth!”

We make some noises that amount to, “WHAT?”

Daughter: “I already have the glue.”

She walked out of the room, leaving us trying not to laugh and wondering how in the h*** she came up with that one. Never a dull moment.

I’m the stupid customer in this one. I call my media provider helpline and, sorry to say, I am furious.

Me: “Hi. Two months ago I was offered a new contract with you to get television, phone, and Internet for £40 a month.”

Advisor: “That’s right; I can see that here.”

Me: “Good. Now, when I phoned up to agree to the deal, I was told it was actually £45. I had to get a supervisor involved, but eventually, he agreed to honour the £40 offer.”

Advisor: “Yes, I can see that conversation here.”

Me: “All right, and can you see that I had to call again when I got the contract, as that also said £45?!”

Advisor: “Yes, I can see that. A £5 discretionary discount has been applied for every month.”

Me: “Really? Then why have I just had £45 debited from my bank account?! You agreed to the £40; it should be £40. I’m not paying £45! You guys promised me it’d been fixed!”

Advisor: “Madam, your line rental is £40 as agreed. The £5.00 is for the calls you’ve made.”

Me: “Oh. Yes…”

I apologised profusely, but hey, what are the odds of that month’s call charges adding up to exactly £5.00?

The charity shop where I volunteer has a strict policy that only two customers are allowed in at any given time for health reasons. While most have been understanding about this, there are always a few exceptions.

A middle-aged man walks past a queue of people waiting outside the shop and starts to enter the shop.

Me: “Sir, please could you wait outside? We’re only allowing two customers in at a time.”

Clearly seeing this as a personal slight, the man snaps.

Customer: “Where does it say that?”

His wife slapped him on the arm, pointed at the three-foot-tall sign in the window, and dragged him away. If she ever comes in without him, she’s getting my volunteer discount.

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I am shopping for a couple of items in a supermarket chain with only one till open. I am happy to see only one person ahead of me — an old man in his sixties — and he seems to be done. However, he then unbags his goods and takes out his receipt.

Old Man: “I’ve been overcharged!”

The staff member looks at his goods and runs them through manually as they are all half-price discounts, and the amount tallies with what was on the receipt.

Old Man: “I’ve still been overcharged!”

I start looking at his goods and add up to the clearly-labeled price to £2.79, which is what is on the receipt. The man starts complaining even more that he is being ripped off, and three more staff arrive, but nobody can figure out what is wrong.

Old Man: “I should have been charged £2.60!”

Bear in mind that one of the items is 49p and all the rest are round numbers. By now, there is a long queue and I am sick of this bickering. I speak to one of the staff.

Me: “If he causing all this grief over 19p, then take this 20p coin from my pocket!”

I turn to the man with it.

Me: “Take it and please leave because the rest of us want to finish our shopping.”

Old Man: “No, I want my money from them.”

I pointed out that he was getting his items half-price or better, but he still argued that he was being ripped off. The staff sadly then gave in and gave him 19p from the till. I just hope I cheered them up when I shouted, “Miserable git!” at the man as he left.

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Old Woman: “So, what kind of food do you do here?”

Literally the entire menu is behind me, but I begin going through it. One of our side dishes, the chicken tikka nachodoms, has been incredibly popular.

Old Woman: “How big is the chicken tikka nachodoms? I’m not sure I can manage a full meal.”

Me: “Oh, don’t worry, its mainly a side dish we do, but it’s incredibly popular! Here is a picture of it, too!”

I point to the menu board.

Old Woman: “Okay, that sounds nice. I’ll have that, please.”

I process the order, give her a table number, and show her to the condiments stand. The order is taken out by one of the waiters as I am busy manning the till. Not even five minutes later, one of the chefs and I notice we are getting dirty looks.

Me: “Is everything okay, ma’am?”

Old Woman: “Not really. I’m quite upset by this.”

Me: “Oh, dear, what can I do to help?”

Old Woman: “I’m a vegetarian and this dish has meat in it!”

Me: “I do apologise, but the chicken tikka nachodoms does contain meat.”

A few other customers start giggling at this point.

Old Woman: “I need a fresh one without meat as I’m vegetarian!”

Me: “Sure, no problem! I proceed to let the kitchen know I need the vegetarian version of the chicken tikka nachodoms!”

I hope she got the hint by the end!

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