A customer came up to me at the Andersons (grocery store) and asked me:

Customer: “Where do I find the dowel rods? I need it for a tall cake.”

Me: “I don’t know.”

Customer: *Immediately upset.* “Get the manager!”

The manager must have been close by because he immediately came over, and the customer went on a tirade about wasting money by hiring people who:

Customer: “…don’t know s***! What a complete waste of space. Why did you even hire a moron like him!?”

Manager: “I didn’t. Going by his uniform, I’m assuming he works at Kinkos.”

I point at my uniform, smile, and get on with my day while the customer sputters something about uniforms shouldn’t be worn when not at work.

A common prayer to say before eating a meal starts, “Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts…” Recently, my daughter mentioned it.

Daughter: “When I was younger, I thought it went ‘Bless us, O Lord, and these, I guess.”

I’m working the checkout. A customer has placed a loose bag of apples on the checkout belt, and I’m looking for the product number.

Customer: “Oh my god, seriously? Those are apples! This is what happens when you kids only eat processed junk.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, I know they’re apples, but we have different codes for Gala, Fuji, Honeycrisp, Golden Delicious, Red Delicious, Pink Lady, Granny Sm—”

Customer: “—Okay, fine, I get it. Lotsa apples.”

Me: “Quite. You got a bag of Braeburns here, so I was just looking at the code to get it right.”

Customer: *Scoffs.* “Those are Pacific Rose!”

Me: “I’m afraid these are Braeburns. The label on them says so, but also, we cashiers are trained to tell the difference.”

I show her the small label on the apple, with a ‘BR’ code indicating ‘Braeburn.’

Customer: “Well, you shouldn’t stock them so close to each other, then!”

Me: “Did you want me to put these aside for you?”

Customer: “Obviously!”

I place the bag of apples aside and continue scanning her items.

Customer: “Uh, aren’t you going to go get me my Pacific Roses?”

Me: “I can’t leave the checkout, ma’am, but I can ask someone else to get them for you.” 

I do so and I finish scanning the rest of her items in silence. A coworker runs over with a bag of the same number of apples, this time Pacific Rose.

Coworker: “Got the apples! I love Pacific Rose! They taste and look so distinct!”

I was afraid the customer’s card payment would be interrupted from the intensity of her glares.

I was helping a teacher register some high school students for an event. It was a frustratingly complicated process that required a few phone calls to a coordinator. Part of one call went thusly:

Coordinator: “What about [Student]? Is he also attending?”

Teacher: “No, he’s having a baby.”

Coordinator: *Clearly taken aback.* “Oh. Uh…”

Teacher: *Oblivious.* “Yeah, the baby’s due the day before the event.”

Me: *Whispering to the teacher.* “His MOM is having the baby!”

Teacher: “That is, he’s about to be a big brother.”

Coordinator: *Now relieved.* “OH!”

Like a lot of people, I collected unemployment during the COVID19 shutdowns. During the time I was getting payments, I carefully followed all the instructions and rules to a T. I was very aware that I was lucky to be able to have this opportunity and wanted to do it right.

So, I was surprised when, five years after I’d been re-hired to my old job (school bus drivers can’t work remotely very easily), I got a letter from my state’s unemployment department that I had been overpaid, and owed money. I continued reading the letter and saw my total owed.

$0.00

I checked my online account, and it had the same information. I needed to repay my zero dollars of overpayment as soon as possible, call to set up a payment plan, or dispute the charges. I called the number, and a very helpful woman told me that it was an error. I owed no money, and I could ignore the letter.

The next month, I got another one.

And another one the next month.

And again.

After the sixth letter, I called again. I was concerned that the department was trying to collect an actual amount and wanted to pay it if I really did owe something. Another helpful worker confirmed that I owed nothing, and the letters should stop soon.

I got three more.

Finally, on the tenth letter, I wrote a check for zero dollars and zero cents and mailed it in the provided envelope.

The next month, I got another letter from the department–this time thanking me for bringing the matter to their attention and assuring me that I owed nothing and would stop receiving letters. I’m happy to say that now, three months later, I haven’t gotten anything from them!