(It’s a quiet time of year with only a steady trickle of customers. I’m just tidying up my till when a girl in her late teens or early twenties comes up with earphones.)

Customer #1: “How much would these be? The spare earbuds are missing.”

Me: “I’ll just check what price they are now; bear with me!”

Customer #1: “No. I’ll be holding people up. Don’t bother…”

Me: “No problem at all. You’ve come at a quiet time, and I have to keep busy! We’ll sort this out.”

(I scan them through. They’re expensive, so I am unsure how much to reduce them by. I am just about to put out a call for my supervisor when one comes past.)

Me: “Oh, [Supervisor], can I borrow you, please?”

(The supervisor comes over. At the same time, a lady comes to my till and is, of course, only second in line. I explain the situation to the supervisor and ask how much they could be reduced by.)

Customer #1: “No. People are waiting.”

Me: “Don’t worry about it. This won’t take a second.”

Supervisor: “We could knock them down to [price]?”

(By this point, I’ve realised the girl is getting very stressed. She’s backed right into the space where the cashier normally stands on the next till and is casting nervous glances to the woman next in line. I know something’s not right.)

Customer #1: “People are waiting… I’m sorry… I don’t know what to do…”

Me: “Don’t worry about it. It’s not a problem at all. Just take your time.”

(The girl is clearly distressed. But what annoys me most is when I glance towards [Customer #2], who has been there for less than a minute, she’s drumming her fingers against the conveyor belt, throwing dirty looks at the girl, and giving exaggerated looks at her watch.)

Supervisor: *gently* “What would you like to do?”

Customer #1: “I don’t know… I don’t know… I’m sorry to cause so much trouble!”

(I was terrified she was going to pass out — she looked that worried. My supervisor and I reassured her over and over that it was all right. In the end, we told her that she could step away from the till if she wanted to, have a good look at the earphones, and decide if they’ll fit her phone and if she’d like them. We told her she could open the packaging if she needed to. She seemed happy enough and went off to stand a short distance away and decide in her own time. [Customer #2] put her basket onto the belt and unloaded it, and remained frosty throughout the whole transaction as if the girl having a panic attack really inconvenienced her. The girl did come back but decided against the earphones. Thankfully she was a lot calmer and seemed a little happier! I just wished [Customer #2] could have shown a tiny bit more understanding instead of obvious impatience.)

(There is a girl in my college class who was in a bad car accident when she was in her early teens, which resulted in her being heavily scarred down the left side of her body — including severe facial scarring — having a pronounced limp, and missing her left arm. Psychologically speaking, she’s sound, and she’s a very independent person, though also very quiet and polite. There’s this guy in our class who’s always jumping up to help her with everything, despite the fact she asks him not to and constantly says she doesn’t need his help and that she’s okay. Over a month later, she’s kind of given up telling him to stop because 1: she doesn’t like confrontation and 2: she’s aware it’s coming from a “good place,” so to speak. Well, that’s what we all thought, anyway. It’s just before lesson, and the guy has asked to talk to the girl alone, so she goes a little bit away to chat. Since he wants to talk to the girl alone, we all watch from a respectable distance. We can see him speaking, then her putting her hand up in front of her. And we’re like, “Oh, he just asked her out and she said no.” She goes to head back, but he stops her and talks a bit more animatedly. She’s a bit more aggressive with her hand gesture back, and walks as quickly as she can back to the group. He follows quite angrily, so we start to walk towards her, as well, just in case.)

Guy: *shouting* “But why?! I’m a nice guy! I did all those things for you!”

Girl: *firmly and fairly loudly* “I didn’t ask you to! In fact, I asked you not to, and you ignored me.”

Guy: “But I still did it! You owe me!”

Girl: “I don’t owe you anything.”

(Our male teacher has arrived at the area at this point, and is also making his way over in case he needs to intervene.)

Guy: “No one else will date you! Not with those scars! You won’t get anyone better than me! I’m willing to look past those scars; don’t think you’ll find anyone else that will!”

(There’s mass shock and everyone freezes. Someone in the group, no idea who, gasps.)

Girl: “Go suck a d**k!”

(More mass shock follows, and another gasp, though there are also some titters.)

Guy: “[Teacher]! Did you hear what she said?!”

Teacher: “You can’t suck my d**k; that’s illegal!”

(The guy stormed off. He went and complained about “bullying by classmates and the teacher” to the reception, which was quickly dropped when the situation was fully explained. He quit college soon after because others found out somehow. Don’t be a “Nice Guy.”)

(When my parents first get married, my dad is keen to be accommodating with his new in-laws. The first time he stays over with them, my nana accidentally breaks the yolk on one of the fried eggs for breakfast.)

Dad: “Don’t worry; I don’t mind having a broken yolk.”

(Somehow, my nana interpreted this as him liking his yolks to be broken. Forty-two years of marriage later, and every fried egg she has ever served him has had a broken yolk. My dad doesn’t have the heart to tell her.)

(I work in a small branch of a popular store in a small town. Every Wednesday we offer discounts to customers over 60, but this can’t be used with any other offers in the store. I’m working the till when this happens.)

Customer: “Hey. Just these, please.”

(He hands me three items on a multi-buy offer, which I don’t notice. I put the items through the till, and then, when handed the discount card I scan it automatically while talking to the customer.)

Me: “Okay, that’ll be [total].”

Customer: “That’s not right; that should be less! I have my discount card!”

Me: “Oh, I’m so sorry, sir; I didn’t notice that these items were on offer. Unfortunately, it won’t take the discount off without voiding the offer that’s on.”

Customer: “This is a scam! You just want my details; that’s all it is!”

(I try to explain to the customer why it won’t work, and that we don’t have access to any of his information as it’s stored on a database at the main office. After dealing with the customer for a while, I begin to lose my patience, as I have a queue building.)

Customer: “No, I want my discount. Nowhere does it say I can’t use it with this offer!”

(I turn around, get a new card with the application still attached, slam it on the till in front of him and, while reading it, slide my finger under the line that says, “Cannot be used in conjunction with any other offers or promotions.” The customer then throws the items at me, tells me it’s a scam one more time, and makes his way towards the exit.)

Me: *to next customer* “Hi there.”

Next Customer: *loud enough for the last customer to hear before he leaves* “Hey there. I’m sorry that you had to deal with someone like that.”

(After that day, every time I sign someone new up for the card I make sure they know the T&C’s, as this was about the third, but most definitely the worst customer I’ve had do this.)

(I am approached by a shifty-looking, female customer. She slinks up to me and gets in close so she can speak in a low voice.)

Customer: “Excuse me, young man! The rat poison you have on sale there — is it harmful to people?”

Me: “Yes, madam, I’m almost certain it will be harmful to most living creatures. You need to keep it out of reach of children and pets.”

Customer: “So, if I gave some to a person, would it kill them?”

Me: “Well, yes, I suppose it would.”

Customer: “Definitely?”

Me: “I can’t say for sure, madam, but I’m 99% certain that it would kill a person if they took enough of it.”

Customer: “Do you know how much you would need to kill a person?”

Me: “Unfortunately, I really can’t say, madam; it depends on the person.”

Customer: “Oh, okay, thanks!” *nods conspiratorially and walks off*