(A customer comes up to my till, places her items on the counter, and immediately takes out her phone.)

Me: “Who was helping you pick your items out today?”

(I work at a boutique that gives employees bonuses based on the sales they make. Thus, I need to know who was helping each customer so I can enter it into the register.)

Customer: *doesn’t react*

Me: *a little louder* “Was anyone helping you pick out your items today?”

Customer: “Huh? Oh, no, I didn’t even try them on. I’m in a big hurry.”

Me: “Okay, no problem.”

(I’m relatively new to the job, and still trying to get the hang of the cashiering process, but hearing that she’s in a hurry, I do my best to get her checked out quickly. However:)

Me: “May I have your phone number so you can get your membership discount?”

Customer: *no reaction, still looking at her phone*

Me: “Ma’am, what’s your phone number?”

Customer: “Hm? Oh, it’s [Number]”

(This continued for the entire rest of the transaction. She’d immediately go back to her phone after answering my questions, and she was so absorbed in whatever she was doing that I’d have to ask twice. Every. Single. Time. This effectively doubled the time she spent at the register. Pro tip: if you’re in a “big hurry,” maybe pay enough attention to the transaction that I can actually get you out quickly?)

(Mom calls.)

Me: “Hi, Mom.”

Mom: “How are you doing this fine day?” *she’s usually this cheerful*

Me: “Awful. I’m sick to my stomach. I’d feel a whole lot better in an instant if I could just puke up what’s in there. Unfortunately, I just can’t. You know, I’ve always been that way. I was so miserable as a kid sometimes because I found it almost impossible to vomit.”

Mom: “Yes, sweetie, I knew that. And I would like to thank you from the bottom of my heart for that.”

Me: *groans*

(I work as a freelance math tutor. One day, I meet my client for an appointment and have the following exchange:)

Me: “I see you’re going to [Local Community College]. Which class are you taking?”

Student: “I don’t know.”

Me: *assuming maybe he forgot the name of the class* “Ok, do you have the book?”

Student: “No.”

Me: “Well then, do you happen to have the syllabus?”

Student: “No.”

Me: “Then why did you set up this appointment?”

Student: “No, that was my uncle.”

(I just left at that point.)

(I work in a store that has a tech counter. One day, while I’m working the register, I slip into the office to change my walkie-talkie, as mine has died. I overhear this gem between one of my managers and a tech while in there.)

Manager: *checking old records in the computer* “We can’t do anything for him. He hasn’t made a purchase here since 2013. That’s why he doesn’t have any coupons.”

Tech: “Well, can we give him a manager coupon? The guy’s about to blow his pacemaker.”

(The manager laughs so hard she almost chokes on the soda she’s sipping.)

Tech: “Seriously. I don’t want to stand too close to him; I think his blood pressure’s getting so high the mic in the walkie might just be enough to set it off.”

(I had to get back on register. I have no idea if the tech convinced her to swing a coupon.)

(I’m moving out of my dad’s house and packing all of my things to take them with me. My kid sister is horrified to find that I’m taking about a third of the video games with me, including several of her favorites.)

Sister: “You can’t take those! Those are Daddy’s!”

Me: “No, they’re not. All of these are mine. I either bought them myself or was given them as birthday or Christmas gifts.”

Sister: “Well, you can’t take that one either! That one’s mine!”

Me: “No, it’s not. I pre-ordered this game and paid for about $50 worth of DLC missions. It’s mine and it’s coming with me.”

Sister: “But I play it!”

Me: “That doesn’t make it suddenly yours.”

Sister: “But you can’t take them because you don’t have anything to play them on!”

Me: “I just bought a PS3 so I can play them.”

(She then ran off and told our dad that I was stealing all of her video games, and then threw a tantrum and started screaming that it was unfair that I was allowed to take my property with me. A week prior she was happy to hear that I was leaving so she could have my room. Apparently she thought that meant she could keep my stuff, too.)