Our point of sale software is a DOS interface which is heavily manual — some national discounts data goes in, but a lot of the items in store require manually entered prices or barcodes. We keep our monitors angled away from the customers because otherwise they complain about the wrong prices or descriptions which pop up during the transaction and it takes at least twice as long to process anything.

I am just starting to ring up a deaf couple, and I turn the monitor because I don’t have sufficient sign language to talk them through what I’m doing without a visual aid. The previous customer turns back from exiting the store and stares at me.

Me: “Did you need something else?”

Customer: “You turned around the monitor at the start for them but you wouldn’t show it to me until you’d finished putting everything in. Why?”

Me: “These customers are deaf and I can’t explain what I’m doing unless–”

Customer: “No, I want a REASON.”

Me: “As I explained when you asked before, we enter the prices manually and–”

Customer: “BUT IT’S NOT FAIR!”

Me: “I’m actually not supposed to turn the monitor for anyone. I make the exception for customers who can’t understand spoken English so–”

Customer: *interrupts with a furious, wordless scream which continues for an impressive length of time while the entire store stares, then RUNS full speed out of the store*

(We are watching the opening scene of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang one afternoon. Note that the school is very conservative.)

Teacher: *moves to the other side of the room and starts dancing, then stops* I forgot we weren’t allowed to dance here. *goes back to her desk sheepishly*

(my father in law has just spent time comparing the flashing lights and sounds of a casino to that of a pinball machine, emphasising that they’re both all about chance. My husband then disagrees, declaring that he had a much higher score than anyone else in the family on a particular pinball machine, and that it’s all about skill)

FIL: You know, he just says that because he’s a Pinball Wizard

ME: There’s gotta be a trick

HUSBAND: Yeah, see? She agrees, there’s skill involved.

FIL: Yeah, you just have such supple wrists.

ME: How do you think he does it?

FIL: I don’t know…

ME: (turning to husband, with a completely straight face as he starts to catch on) What makes you so good?

(My co-worker uses the frothing pitcher we use for almond milk to make himself a latte using half almond milk and half regular milk. There is a little bit of the mixture left in the pitcher, and he sets it by the almond milk container in the fridge.)

Me: “Hey, don’t put it back. Dump it out.”

(He looks at me, unconvinced.)

Me: “There’s regular milk in there, right? People don’t want that if they get almond milk.”

Co-worker: “Oh, but it’s only a little bit.”

Me: “…”

(My grandma used to drive a bus when she was in her 40s. She had a neighbor who wore very short shorts. One day, as my grandma was driving the bus by her neighbor’s house, her neighbor’s son started throwing rocks at the bus. My grandma stopped the bus and began to scold the little boy for throwing rocks.)

Neighbor: *running outside in her short shorts* “Be quiet, you fat pig!”

Grandma: “Oh, shut up, lady, your a** is hanging out of your pants!”

(The neighbor took her son and marched back into the house).