(I am the clueless customer here. I’ve just gotten my first “real” job and I need good-quality office clothes. I go to a fairly high-end store and buy almost $1,000.00 worth of outfits, which is a huge amount of money for me.)

Salesperson: *seeing my face as I’m paying* “Hey, just so you know, if these clothes go on sale in the next two weeks, we’ll refund you the difference.”

Me: “Really? Awesome!” *skips off happily with my new duds*

(The salesperson was very clear about the “in the next two weeks” part, but my brain somehow didn’t process that. I got it into my head that if what I’d bought went on sale at any time, even if it was months in the future, I’d still get money back. So, three months later, the store has a huge “end of season sale.”)

Me: *carrying in a massive armful of clothes and my receipt* “Hi! I’m here for my refund.”

Salesperson: “Um… refund?”

Me: “Yup!” *hands over receipt*

Salesperson: “This is from three months ago, ma’am.”

Me: “That’s right.”

Salesperson: *looks at clothes* “Is there anything wrong with them?”

Me: “No, I love them. I’ve been wearing everything constantly since I bought them in the spring.”

Salesperson: “Then I’m confused.”

(We finally got things straightened out, and I slunk out, very embarrassed, with all my stuff and no refund. Thankfully, she was very nice; she probably saw how young I was and realized that this was my first time buying anything really nice.)

(This happens close to Christmas. I come home to find a yellow card from [Delivery Company] taped to my door. It says that an item I ordered is being held at a nearby facility. I drive there right away to pick it up. Because of the time of year, the facility is very busy, and there are several customers ahead of me.)

Customer #1: “I’m here to pick up my item.”

Employee: “Do you have a yellow card from our company indicating that it would be here?”

Customer #1: “Uh, no.”

Employee: “Then it’s not here yet. Wait until you receive the yellow card. Next!”

Customer #2: “My item should be here, but I don’t have that yellow card.”

Employee: “Then it’s not here. Wait until you receive the yellow card. Next!”

Customer #3: “I don’t have that card, either–“

Employee: *growing visibly irritated* “Your item isn’t here until you get that card! NEXT!”

Me: “Hi–“

Employee: “YOUR ITEM ISN’T HERE!“

Me: *holds out card*

Employee: “WAIT UNTIL YOU GET THE CARD! NEXT!”

Me: “But… I do have the card.”

Employee: “What? Oh. One moment, please.”

(She had my sympathy.)

(When my fiancé and I are planning our wedding, we attend a wedding show at the local convention centre. Pretty much every kiosk has a contest, and we enter every single one, hoping to win something cool. A few weeks later, we get a call from an unknown number. We’ve won a trip to the Bahamas! And all we have to do is give them our credit card number for “processing fees” and attend a “brief” two-hour presentation on timeshares. How lucky can you get? Alarm bells instantly start ringing in my head, but my fiancé — who’s extremely intelligent but can be a little naïve at times — has already gotten his card out and is preparing to read off the numbers. I wave at him frantically and he stop.)

Caller: “Yes? Sir? I need the rest of your card’s numbers.”

Me: “It’s a scam. Don’t do it.”

Fiancé: “Are you sure?”

Me: “Remember that [Broadcast] exposé on scammers? If you have to pay any money for a prize, it’s not a legitimate contest.”

Fiancé: “Crap, you’re right.”

Caller: “Sir?”

Fiancé: “Never mind. We don’t want the trip.”

Caller: *incredulously* “What?! You don’t want a free trip to the Bahamas? You’re joking.”

Fiancé: “We’re not joking, and I’m hanging up now.”

Caller: “Wait! My supervisor would like to talk to you.”

Fiancé: “What for?”

Caller: “One moment, please, sir.”

Supervisor: “Hello? My employee tells me that you’re turning down a free trip to the Bahamas, but that can’t be right.”

Fiancé: “We’re definitely turning it down, because this is a scam.”

Supervisor: *offended tone* “I beg your pardon? This is no scam, sir.”

Fiancé: “Yeah, well, my fiancée is sure that it is, and I trust her.”

Supervisor: “Sir, ask yourself this question. Who wears the pants in your household?”

Fiance: “What did you just say?”

Supervisor: *oblivious* “I mean, you’re not even married yet. Is this the way you want your married life to go? Your wife telling you what to do?”

Fiancé: *starts laughing*

Supervisor: “What’s so funny?”

Fiancé: “Oh, man. If you ever had a chance of getting my credit card info from me, you just blew it. Bye.” *hangs up*

This story happens when I’m quite small, about three or four years old. My parents have taken me to a children’s matinee at the Royal Winnipeg Ballet. They were worried that I’d be bored, but apparently, I’m utterly enthralled.

At one point, a male and female dancer begin to perform a romantic pas-de-deux, and a small voice pipes up from the middle of the crowd, “Oh! The pretty lady loves the man!”

We’re sitting far enough back that the dancers don’t hear this, but a ripple of laughter moves through the audience nearby. An usher hurries over and asks my father to take me to sit at the back, and he complies.

Another scene is circus-themed and features a clown putting on his clown suit. Midway through, the same small voice rings out again. “He’s putting on his jammies!”

More laughter from the audience. This time the usher asks my dad to remove me from the audience entirely. 

As my dad says, this was clearly the beginning of my career in media analysis.

(I work at a local grocery store only twenty minutes from my house. As a courtesy clerk, it’s my job to make sure there are carts available for the customers and to also help any customer who needs it. It is twenty minutes before my shift ends and, as I have finished all of my tasks for the day, I am walking the aisles in search of something to do.)

Older Woman: “Would you be so kind as to help me?”

Me: “Of course I would.”

Older Woman: “My hands don’t work as they used to and I can’t seem to lift this box of canned pop. Would you be so kind as to put it in my cart?”

Me: “Of course, I would be happy to.”

(I put the cans of pop in her cart when she notices that the two-litres of the same brand are not out.)

Older Woman: “Oh, dear, it would seem like the two-litres are out of stock.”

Me: “I can go check in the back for you to see if we have any lying around.”

Older Woman: “Would you? That would help a lot.”

(I head into the back. Sure enough, I find the two-litres of the same brand. I then get the amount she requires and place them in her cart.)

Older Woman: “Thank you ever so much.”

(Then, noticing that my shift has ended, I wish her a good day and make my way upstairs. On my way back downstairs, out of my uniform, one of the customer service clerks comes over the PA.)

Coworker: “Courtesy clerk for a carry out, please.”

(I was the only courtesy clerk on duty. I walk over to her and she notices I am out of uniform.)

Coworker: “Oh, [My Name], we will get someone else to do it.”

(I am leaving to go home, anyway, and knowing only a few people are working now that it is late, I don’t see anything wrong with me helping her to her car.)

Me: “I am leaving, anyway; I would be happy to escort her to her car and help her load her groceries.”

Older Woman: “It’s people like you that make me come back to this establishment.”

(I push her cart to her car and help her load her car.)

Older Woman: “Thanks again for the help.”

(A few days later, I notice the same woman speaking to one of my managers when she notices me. She points at me and they start walking over to me.)

Older Woman: “This is the lady — the one who took time out of her life to help a young lady like me.”

Manager: “She has been in here for the past week telling all of us how great you were. She asked for you each time as she wanted to give something to you.”

(She hands me a twenty-dollar bill.)

Older Woman: “You deserve something for your hard work.”

(I look to my manager, afraid that it might be against store policy to accept it.)

Manager: “Take it; from what she told me, you deserve it.”

Me: “Thanks ever so much.”

(We then hug and she leaves to go do her own shopping. Later, while I’m on break, the manager comes up and walks over to me.)

Manager: “Seeing as you worked off the clock, I want you to take another 15 minutes to compensate for it.”

(The old lady is, in fact, a regular, and each time she needs help she asks for me. Of course, sometimes I am not on, but when I am I’m always willing to help.)