(I work as an office assistant for a small company. We get a lot of spammy recorded calls of questionable origin. The phone rings and the caller ID is from an insurance company. It looks to me like it may be another recorded message, but I always pick up the phone in case it’s not.)

Me: “Hi, you’ve reached [Company].”

Caller: “Hello? Can you hear me?”

Me: “Yes?”

Caller: *long pause* “How are you doing today?”

(This is a common enough format for recorded calls that I ask outright:)

Me: “Is this a recording?”

(After another pause, he doesn’t respond to my question, and instead starts talking about where he’s calling from. Between the long pauses and ignoring my question, I figure it’s a recorded message and hang up. The phone immediately rings again from the same number. I don’t bother answering it, instead lifting the receiver and hanging it back up. This pattern goes on for some time, at least five times. I also hold the phone to my ear a couple of times before hanging it up and hear the same voice say, “Hello?” and, “Can you hear me?” but nothing unique enough to make me think this isn’t a sophisticated recording. I’ve heard that if you let a recorded call get far enough or even answer it at all they’ll keep calling you. I figure this is a particularly persistent and obnoxious one, and I guess I hope if I hang up on it enough it’ll stop. I probably should just let it go to the voicemail, but I hate letting the phone just ring. However, this pattern is now at the point where I can’t get anything done because of the constant calls. I snap and decide to try picking it up again)

Me: *picks up phone* “Hi, is this a real person?”

Caller: *same voice, but now exasperated* “Yes! I’ve been hung up on several times now. I’m trying to do an employer check for [Company Employee]. Who am I talking to?”

Me: *embarrassed now* “Oh… This is the office assistant, [My Name].”

Caller: “Can you tell me if I am speaking to the right person, or who I should speak with?”

Me: “The directors should be able to help you out. Let me transfer you.”

Caller: “That’d be great, thanks.”

(I was too embarrassed to apologize for hanging up on him so many times. Hopefully he didn’t give my boss an earful about his incompetent office person!)

Customer: “I’d like a 12-ounce, non-fat, iced, decaf latte, but I want you to put it in a larger cup.”

Me: “Why would you like it in a larger cup, ma’am?”

Customer: “When you add the ice, it takes the place of some of the milk. I want the 12-ounce, but in a bigger cup, so I don’t lose the milk.”

Me: “I can’t do that, ma’am. I’d be giving you a larger size for the same price as the smaller size if I did that.”

Customer: “No, you wouldn’t. It would be the same size, but in a larger cup, so I get the extra milk.”

Me: “That would be the same as me just giving you the larger size for less.”

Customer: “I don’t understand why you can’t just give the small latte in a larger cup!”

Me: “Because—”

Customer: “Whatever. Just do what you have to do!”

(I made and charged her for a 16-ounce iced drink.)

(I work at a call center that provides materials for smoking cessation.)

Caller: “I need products sent to me.”

Me: “Certainly! What’s the address?”

Caller: “Which address do you want? Mine or my mom’s?”

Me: “Wherever you’d like the products sent.”

Caller: *clearly frustrated and upset, gives an address* “Just send them there.”

Me: “No problem!”

(He calls in a few weeks later.)

Caller: “I’m still smoking, and it’s all your f****** fault!”

Me: “What seems to be the problem?”

Caller: “Mail gets stolen from my mailbox all the time, and you sent my patches here, and they got stolen! You sent them to my address, not my mom’s.”

Me: “I have [address] as the address for you. Is that where you wanted them sent?”

Caller: “NO! I wanted them sent to my mom’s address, but I didn’t give you that one because it would be like I didn’t have my own address. Like I wasn’t an adult. Like I was NOTHING! Thanks for helping people steal, you stupid b****!” *hangs up*

(I’m in line at a well-known US coffee shop chain. It’s quite busy, and the line is stretched nearly out the door; it’s the morning rush. There are two gentlemen in front of me in line who look like mechanics. One orders a grande Americano with room. I place my order and go to the other end to wait, when this happens:)

Employee: “Tall Americano with room! On the bar!”

(The guy who was in front of me grabs the coffee and puts half-and-half in it and stirs it up. His buddy then pipes up:)

Mechanic #1: “Dude, that’s a girl’s drink.”

Mechanic #2: “What? Screw you! No, it isn’t! Guys order Americanos all the time; don’t be a jerk.”

Mechanic #1: “No, dude. There’s a chick’s name on the side of the cup.”

(He looks and, sure enough, there is an obviously female name written on the side of the cup. A lady pipes up from the crowd of people waiting for their drinks.)

Lady: “That’s my drink!”

(The staff visibly stiffens and everyone braces themselves for her to flip out.)

Lady: “Man, I’ve been waiting here for ten minutes for that! How long did you wait? Five seconds? Did you think you were going to get yours before everyone else? Look at this line!”

Mechanic #2: “I… I… I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. I got the same thing; you can have mine.”

Lady: “Dude, I’m messing with you. You didn’t put your finger in it, or anything?”

Mechanic #2: “No, just some half-and-half and a stirrer.”

Lady: “That’s what I was going to get, anyway. No worries, man.”

(She grabs the coffee and walks out. The guy’s coffee comes next, a grande Americano. He looks embarrassed.)

Mechanic #2: “It wasn’t even the same size. I need coffee before I get my coffee.”

(We all had a good laugh. It was really nice to see everyone keep their cool and not make a big deal out of it. We all started our morning off with a chuckle.)

(I am a cashier in a locally-owned, market-style grocery store. Typically, when people come in and are looking for someone, they come ask a cashier since we are easy to find. During April and May, we do a small round of hiring for summer staff. A guy comes in and tells one of the coworkers he’s here for an interview.)

Coworker: “Okay, do you know with who?”

Guy: “I don’t remember his name.”

Coworker: “Do you know what department?”

Guy: “Uh… I think food.”

Coworker: “Well, this is a grocery store.”

(My coworker took him to meet the manager that was hiring when someone told her he was the only one with interviews scheduled.)