Customer: “I cancelled this subscription and you sent me a new package.”

Me: “I’m so sorry, ma’am. I’ll cancel all future shipments for you. I can refund—”

(I am about to offer to refund part of her charge for the trouble, letting her keep the product.)

Customer: “No. I don’t want to deal with that. I’m not shipping anything back to you; this is such a hassle already.”

Me: “Okay, ma’am, then you’re all set. Have a great day.”

(I wonder if her mother ever taught her not to interrupt people.)

(My store is hosting a Safety Week, and throughout the store parents can pick up free flyers, stickers, magnets, and mini coloring books with child safety tips on them. Overall, it’s to raise awareness for a fundraiser we’re doing for the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, where we ask for a $1 donation at the registers. A mother and her young daughter come up to my register, and I see the daughter has collected all of our free items and looks very excited.)

Me: “I like your stickers! Did you get some magnets, too?”

(I point to the pile of magnets we have at the register, and the daughter proudly holds up her own magnets. At that moment, her mother grabs another sheet of magnets and puts them in her purse.)

Customer: “For my son at home.”

Me: “Great! I’m glad you guys like those; they’re for a great cause. All right, your total is [total]. Would you like to donate a dollar to the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children?

Customer: “Nope, I’m fine.”

(I looked incredulously at the excessive amount of free safety trinkets they’d collected, before continuing with the transaction as politely as I could. It was pretty baffling, though!)

(I supervise the registers at a popular home goods store. One day, two employees are running the customer service registers, where people can also check out, and I’m directing traffic and basically cleaning up the messes that are everywhere. My two coworkers are [Cashier #1], a 19-year-old who has run a register for six months or so, and [Cashier #2], a 30-something who has worked for the company longer than I have and is technically my peer, though I’m always teaching her things. I’m finishing up with one customer when I realize that both my coworkers are standing by the same register.)

Me: “What’s going on? Maybe I can help.”

Cashier #2: “I can’t figure out the change to give her. I put it in wrong.”

(I look at the receipt that’s sitting on the counter. It says that the customer bought one item, the total was $6.28, and the customer paid $6.30.)

Me: “How much money did she actually give you?”

Cashier #2: “$6.35.”

Me: *not sure I heard that right* “So, she gave you five cents more than you put in the cash register?”

Cashier #2: “Yes.”

Me: “Then you give her five cents more than the cash register tells you to give.”

Cashier #2: *blank look*

Me: “Did you give her the two cents from the receipt?”

Cashier #2: “No, because I knew it wasn’t right!”

Me: “Okay, well, she gave you five cents more than the receipt says she gave you, so you give her five cents more than the register says to give her.”

Cashier #2: *same blank look*

Me: “Seven cents.”

(In the end, I have to reach into her register to pull the change out for the poor customer. After she leaves, the other cashier drops this line.)

Cashier #1: “I couldn’t figure it out, either, so I told her just to void the transaction.”

Me: “Wait, what? Did we re-ring it?”

Cashier #1: “I don’t know.”

(We counted the cashier’s drawer and, sure enough, it was over by $6.28. We still had the receipt from the return, so we were able to re-ring the purchase to even out her drawer and our inventory. The worst part is that not only did two grown women not know how to “fix” a five-cent mistake, but the older one is actually a teacher by day!)

(I am working the dinner rush for a popular roast beef restaurant and have just cleared out the last of the customers without incident. A girl walks in, and I can immediately tell she is upset about something.)

Me: “Hi, how can I help you?”

Customer: “Listen. I just came through the drive-thru and you forgot to give me my strawberry shake.”

Me: “Oh, um, we don’t have strawberry shakes.”

Customer: “Yes, you do! I just came through, and there was a strawberry shake on my receipt!”

Me: “Actually, that would be impossible, as we don’t even have them on our registers. Can I see your receipt, please?”

Customer: “No! I threw it away! Just give me my d*** strawberry shake!”

Me: “Like I said, it is physically impossible for me to give you a strawberry shake.”

Customer: “I will be calling your district manager! You just don’t want to give me my shake!”

Me: “Do you want to call her at work tomorrow, or for me to get her personal number for you? She will reassure you that we could not have possibly charged you for a strawberry shake, and furthermore, if you would have been polite towards me, I would have been happy to give you a shake, as we value our customers, which you obviously haven’t been in a long time.”

(The customer then stormed out of the store muttering about a strawberry shake and flipped me off as she was getting back into her car.)

(I work at a convenience store and gas station that has 20 pumps and is open 24 hours. It is the early 2000s when gas is around $1 a gallon. We frequently get people trying to scam us for gas. I am working third shift when a customer enters.)

Customer: “Hey, is there anything around here I can do for $10 worth of gas? I’m trying to get back to [Town two hours away].”

Me: “Absolutely! You can go outside and empty and change all 15 trash bags, sweep the parking lot, sweep up inside, clean both restrooms, and then mop the floors.”

Customer: “I’ve got to do all that?”

Me: “Well, yeah. It should only take about an hour.”

Customer: “I’m not doing all that!”

Me: “Well, I have to do all of that, and even I don’t get paid $10 an hour.”

Customer: “F*** that!”