A woman orders a small coffee. I pour it and hand it to her. She looks at it all confused.

Customer: “I ordered a coffee.”

Me: “That is a coffee.”

The woman refuses to accept the fact that she is holding a cup of coffee. A coworker finishes making a strawberry and cream frappe for a young girl, maybe nine or ten years old, and hands it to the girl. The woman looks down at the little girl’s drink.

Customer: “That’ll do.”

She snatched it from the girl’s hands and walked out the door with both the girl’s drink and the coffee.

Took me a couple of days to cool down about that, and yes, we banned the woman from the store.

A young customer is walking around aimlessly in our auto shop for a few minutes.

Customer: “Do you have spray paint?”

I grab the keys to the paint locker and escort her over. After making a brief observation of our selection, she grabs one can of paint, labeled “Camouflage.” Seemingly she has found what she wants, so I ring her out.

Not more than thirty minutes later, I see her walk back into my humble place of business with a worried look on her face. I meet her at the counter.

Me: “Can I help you?”

Customer: “I’d like to return the can of camouflage paint.”

Me: “Is there a problem with the can or do you no longer need it?”

Then, looking me dead in the eyes, she says:

Customer: “Well, it only sprays one color.”

I was completely speechless, blankly staring at her, trying to comprehend what she was trying to say. Just as I realized what she was saying, a wave of sudden realization, followed by horror and embarrassment, washed over her face. It seems we both came to the same conclusion at the same moment.

I managed to spit out a few words, trying to maybe explain to her how paint cans worked and that they were not capable of spraying multiple colors, but she was already quickly on her way out the door. I stood there for a few moments, filled with emotions ranging from confusion to laughter.

I am going through the drive-thru of a well-known fast food place for lunch. This chain has a promotional sandwich that I like, so I decide to order that again.

Employee: “Welcome to [Restaurant]. What can I get you?”

Me: “Can I please get a small [sandwich] combo?”

Employee: *Sounding really judgmental* “We don’t make that anymore.”

Me: “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize that you stopped making it. Can I please get [meal], instead?”

I complete that order with no more problems. About a week later, I go through the drive-thru again, and I notice that the menu board still definitely displays the promotional sandwich. I get to the speaker.

Employee: “Welcome to [Restaurant]. What can I get you?”

Me: “Hi. Can I ask if you’re still making [sandwich]? You still have a sign for it on the menu board, but last week I was told it ended.”

Employee: *Judgmental again* “No, we don’t make it. Anything else?”

Me: “Can I just suggest that you probably want to take that sign down if you don’t have it anymore? It’s pretty confusing otherwise.”

Employee: “Can I get you something else today?”

Me: “Actually, no, thanks. I’ll go somewhere else today.”

It might have been petty, but I didn’t need to deal with a judgmental employee when the restaurant itself couldn’t be bothered to take down a sign for something that they didn’t serve anymore.

The sign is still up now, a month after this happened, and it doesn’t look like it will be coming down anytime soon.

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t serve you at the drive-thru.”

Customer: “Why the h*** not?!”

Me: “You’re really going to make me say it?”

Customer: “Why can’t I be served in the drive-thru?!”

Me: “Because you’re on a horse, sir.”

Customer: “That’s discrimination!”

Me: “I can only serve customers in a vehicle, sir, not on an animal.”

Customer: “What if I said it was a seeing-eye horse?”

I used to serve samples in grocery stores, traveling between a few different locations. I was a vendor; I did not work for the store.

One day, a girl, maybe five years old, came up to my stand with tears streaming down her face.

Girl: “I can’t find my mommy.”

Me: “Oh! Okay, sweetie. Let’s go see if we can call her. What’s your name?”

Girl: “[Girl].”

Me: “You can call me [My Name]. Can I hold your hand?”

Girl: “Can you carry me?”

Me: “Uh… okay.”

I closed and locked the stand, leaving nothing out. I picked the girl up and we went to customer service. From there, an associate made an announcement about a missing mommy (not using the child’s name). A [Store] manager came up and played with the girl while we waited.

Within minutes, the girl’s mom came running. It turns out they went to the bathroom together and the girl left, thinking her mom had already left. Once they were reunited, the [Store] manager pulled me aside.

Manager: “Where did you find her?”

Me: “She found me at my cart.”

Manager: “So, you just walked over here?”

Me: “Yeah, I thought—”

Manager: “And you left your food unattended.”

Me: “No, I was—”

Manager: “You left [Store] open to a huge liability. What if someone with an allergy approached and took a sample? What if a child found a knife?”

Me: “I didn’t—”

Manager: “I don’t want you in this store. I’ll be talking to [My Company] management. Go clean up. No, I’ll go with you and escort you out of the store.”

The manager followed me back to my stand.

Manager: “This is exactly what I’m talking about. Where are your samples?”

I unlock the cabinet, showing everything stored away.

Me: “I didn’t leave anything.”

Manager: “You still left [Store] at risk.”

Me: “How?”

Manager: “Just get out. I’ll take care of this.”

I left, calling my boss on the drive. She assured me that I had done nothing wrong and that she would do her best to not send me to that store again.

Later on, I found out that the store manager called my manager and told her that I left the cart unattended to talk to customer service, conveniently leaving out the part about the lost child and how I had locked everything up.

I never went back to that store, not even to go shopping.