(I’m a cashier at a huge grocery store that sells everything. When we ring in a customer, right below their total on the receipt it shows the current time. One day as I’m ringing up a seemingly nice older lady, I accidentally read the time out loud rather than her total. Quickly realizing my mistake I correct myself.)

Me: “Oh, haha, I’m so sorry, ma’am, I accidentally looked at the clock. Your total is 105.27, not 12:43.”

Customer: “ARE YOU F****** KIDDING ME?! You should be paying more attention! I want to speak with your manager immediately!”

(Mind you, she had not paid me or taken out her money. I literally corrected myself within ten seconds. I call my manager over anyway.)

Manager: “What’s the problem, ma’am?”

Customer: “THIS F****** DUMB-A** WAS TOO BUSY PAYING ATTENTION TO WHATEVER ELSE AND SHE READ ME THE TIME BY ACCIDENT INSTEAD OF MY TOTAL.”

Manager: “Leave.”

(The customer proceeds to try walking out with groceries she had not paid for.)

Manager: “No, ma’am, those can stay here.”

Customer: “Well, my f****** bad. I figured with that service I shouldn’t have to pay for this s***. What’s your corporate number?!”

Manager: “It’s on our website. Have a nice day.”

(The customer left, complaining to every single person she saw on her way out.)

(While riding the Metro — Washington DC’s subway — one day, my dad and I notice two teenage girls with hiking backpacks looking extremely worried as they stare at a map. Between the few words we can hear and the flags on their bags, we realize they must be Danish. Dad, an army officer in uniform, gets up and goes over to talk to them.)

Dad: *in Danish* “Excuse me, but could I help? It looks like you might be lost.”

Girl #1: “Du taler Dansk?!” *You speak Danish?!*

Dad: *in Danish* “Yes. I lived there for two years. Beautiful country!”

(The rest of the conversation continues in their language. They admit that they can’t make sense of the very bad map they have. My dad marks notations to help clarify things — including drawing on the Metro Lines so they can find which ones are closest to their destinations — and helping them locate major tourist attractions and their hostel. They chat about their other planned destinations, as well, and he gives them some advice, as he’s traveled to all of them. And, of course, they talk about Denmark; where they’re from, where he’d lived, things he misses most, etc. As we near their stop, Dad gets out his business card, writes his personal phone number and address on the back, and hands it to them.)

Dad: *in Danish* “Please call me if you have any more trouble. And if I don’t answer my office number–” *flips it to show them the back* “–please call my house. My wife only speaks a little Danish, but she’s home all day.”

Girls: “Thank you!”

Dad: “My pleasure! I do hope you enjoy the rest of your trip, and let me know if you need anything, even if you’ve already left town. I know folks in each of the cities you’re visiting, so don’t worry. You’ll never be far from a rescue if you get turned around again!”

(We didn’t hear from them again while they were on their trip, but several weeks later, a package arrived from Denmark. Inside was my dad’s favorite brand of chocolate — which he’d mentioned missing — and a thank-you note from the girls and their parents. Apparently, randomly running into a military officer who spoke their language the one time they got lost was the highlight of their trip, and their parents were very grateful he’d stepped in to help. My folks still exchange Christmas cards with them, and write notes about little things special to America, while they catch him up on the news from Denmark.)

(I work for a major cell phone provider in the US. My store is a “store-within-a-store” partnered with another electronics chain. Our partner chain previously serviced multiple contract and prepaid providers Tracfone, Net 10, etc. When we came in, which was about two years ago, the company stopped selling any services besides our brand. From time to time we get someone looking for brands we no longer offer and we are supposed to offer them service.)

Customer: “This phone is a f****** piece of s***. I need a new one. What do you guys have on sale? I have an ‘Obama phone’ but it doesn’t have Internet. That d**k gives illegal immigrants health care but he can’t give citizens a phone with f****** Internet.”

Me: “Okay, are you currently on a contract or prepaid service?”

Customer: “I don’t have no contract. I want a new phone; this thing is junk.”

Me: “Okay, do you have [prepaid option #1] or [prepaid option #2]?”

Customer: “No, I have [Competitor]. I need a new phone; can’t a just buy one of these so you can put it on my number?”

Me: “Unfortunately, these phones are for [prepaid options] and won’t work on [Competitor]’s network. But we have holiday promotions going on right now for both prepaid and contract service if you bring your number in from another company.”

Customer: “Well, right now when my time runs out I have to get another card or my phone shuts off. It’s bull-s***. Do you have anything that won’t do that?”

Me: “Well, we have unlimited service without contract plans. I can run your credit and see what your elig—”

Customer: “I don’t want a f****** contract. They are scams. What is the other option?”

Me: “Well, on [prepaid option #1] you can get unlimited talk, text, and data for [price] a month. You just have to buy airtime every thirty days to keep your service. If you bring in your phone number you get [Phone] for free. You just have to buy the airtime.”

Customer: “How do I do that?”

Me: “You can pay here in store, over the phone, through an app, or sign up for auto-pay.”

Customer: “No way. I’m not giving you a**holes my credit card number. I don’t want to have to get a card to turn my service on. I already told you that.”

Me: “So… You don’t want a contract and you don’t want to buy airtime cards each month?”

Customer: “Yeah. How do I do that?”

Me: “Well, I don’t know of any service that offers an option other than contract or prepaid.”

Customer: “I just want it not to shut me off without having to get a card.”

Me: “Do you mean the Internet? You don’t want to have to renew service when you use all of your Internet?”

Customer: “Exactly. I don’t know why you didn’t understand. I don’t know why [Store] hired such a dumb b****!”

Me: *at this point I’m ignoring his insults because I don’t have the energy to ask him to leave* “Sir, I thought you understood that unlimited means there is no limit.”

Customer: “You didn’t say unlimited Internet!”

Me: “I’m sorry. That’s what I meant by unlimited data.”

Customer: “Well, you shouldn’t say that. Data is what the s*** on my f****** phone is called? How did you get this f****** job?”

Me: *still ignoring his insults* “So, would you like to start service today?”

Customer: “How much will it cost?”

Me: “[Amount] plus tax, if you bring in your number.”

Customer: “I thought you said it was free! You’re trying to rip me off.”

Me: “Unfortunately, the only thing free on the promotion is the device. You would have to pay for airtime.”

Customer: “Why can’t you just bill me later?”

Me: “You said you didn’t want contract service.”

Customer: “I don’t!”

(At this point I had to excuse myself for a moment and get a manager. He had to have the same conversation, while I rage-smoked two cigarettes.)

Me: “So, what’d you tell him?”

Manager: “That if he wanted free service he’d have to stick with the ‘Obama phone,’ because I don’t know anyone else giving away free cell phones and service!”

This happened while I was working at a friend’s mom-and-pop pizza place. We were running short of ones and change so I had to run to the bank next door to get some.

Understand that this particular bank was — as a teller there once mentioned to me — used as a training site for new teller hires for all the local company locations. Since it was in a down-scale neighborhood, it tended to have more than its share of “problem customers,” so if you could handle yourself professionally there, everywhere else was a breeze.

Anyhow, I’m standing in line and the lady in front of me says she wants to withdraw $50 from her checking account. But she doesn’t have any checks with her. Or the account number. Or any ID. And despite claiming “she banks here all the time,” no one working there recognizes her.

When the lady teller tries to politely explain why she needs to go home and return with at least an ID, cue the five minute screaming rampage about how “racist” the bank, the teller, and everyone else working here is, and the only reason she can’t get “her” money is because she’s [race]. Throughout this the teller remains perfectly polite, but adamant that she can’t do what the lady is requesting.

Finally the screamer storms out, and I get to do my business. The teller looks a bit frazzled, so as we’re talking I compliment her on staying calm, and tell her she did exactly the right thing. In fact, that if she HAD allowed the “customer” to perform such a sketchy withdrawal, I would have worried about how secure MY account there was.

(I am a valet cashier at one of the larger hospitals in the cities. I see and hear about all types of things that would make one concerned, but this was the most recent.)

Customer: *has an obviously difficult time producing her valet ticket and manages to hand it over after a few minutes*

Me: “Okay, ma’am, your total is [total].”

Customer: *groans as she has difficulty finding her wallet* “They dilated both of my eyes and I can’t see a d*** thing.”

Me: “…”

(She was alone and I worried all day about her getting home. I hadn’t heard anything on the news so I hope she’s okay.)