(This is my first job and I’m on the tills on my second day. It’s during the Christmas rush, so queues are very long. I’m in the middle of processing a transaction for my customer when the much more experienced cashier at the next till leans over to me.)

Cashier: “I’ve run out of change to give this customer. Give me some out of your till!”

(I look in my drawer, which is also dangerously low on small change, and filled with bigger notes. The phone is broken, so we can’t call a supervisor to refill them, and no one has come by to check on us for quite a while.)

Me: “Uh… won’t my till be short if I give you some?”

Cashier: “Just do it. We can sort it out when the line is lower!”

Me: “I just need to fin—”

My Customer: “No, no, NO! I am your customer, not HER!” *waves angrily at the other cashier’s customer* “YOU serve ME first, understand?! SHE can WAIT!”

(I quietly finished the rest of her transaction, and then gave my coworker the money she wanted for the other customer. We both ran out of smaller cash and had to close one of the tills while the other cashier looked for a supervisor to refill. Angry customers shouted at me for the lack of change, lack of open tills, etc. Then my supervisor came and shouted at me for giving the other cashier the money. Yay, retail.)

(I’m the dippy employee in this story. It’s December and the Christmas rush has started, so we’ve been very busy all day. It’s nearly the end of the day and I’m a bit tired. A young man, 16-17, approaches with a port gift set: three small bottles of port in a gift box.)

Me: “Hello there! Do you have any ID?”

Young Man: “No, I don’t.” *genuinely confused* “I didn’t think you needed it for this?”

His Girlfriend: “I have ID?”

Me: “Sorry, but I’d need his ID in order to sell him this—” *I look at the bottle and suddenly realize what he’s actually buying* “—shower gel set! Oh, I’m so, so sorry! I thought it was the port set. The bottles are the same colour and look very, very similar!”

Young Man: “So I don’t need ID?”

Me: “No, not at all. I do apologise. It’s been a very long day…”

(Everyone laughs. He pays for his SHOWER GEL gift set and leaves, chuckling with his girlfriend. The next customer makes a joke about him “making a clean getaway”. Groan!)

(We’re at the office Christmas party and Coworker #1 has had way too much to drink and is now shouting every few seconds. I’m chatting with Coworker #2.)

Me: “I think [Coworker #1] has reached his limit.”

(Coworker #2 glances over at Coworker #1.)

Coworker #1: “ROCK AND ROLL!”

Coworker #2: “Nope. He can still speak.”

(I have been working long shifts for the past 12 days because of the Christmas rush, and I’m a little burned out. The lady I am serving has just bought a box of chicken breasts.)

Me: “Here’s your bag, and here’s your receipt. Have a Merry Christmas and enjoy your breasts!”

(The customer gives me a scandalized stare before hurrying out.)

Coworker: “I think you should go work in the back for a while…”

This story is part of the Chicken roundup!

Read the next Chicken roundup story!

Read the Chicken roundup!

(I’m a manager at a well-known fast food place whose signature sandwich has two all-beef patties, special sauce, etc. It is two days before Christmas and most of our calls have been local kids making lame attempts at crank calls. Half hour after close I am in the office doing paperwork when the phone rings.)

Me: “[Restaurant], can I help you?”

Caller: *pause* “Um, can I have a whopper?”

Me: “One whopper? Sure. So, this one time, I was at the store and you’ll never believe this! I got a huge bag of candy, like twelve pounds, and it was mis-marked! You’ll never believe how much I paid for it! One dollar, can you believe it! Twelve pounds of candy for a dollar!”

Caller: “Um… can I get an onion whopper?”

Me: “Oh! You mean whopper like the sandwich, not an exaggerated tale. Yeah, I don’t have any of those.”

Caller: “…uh.”

Me: “Yeah, that candy story was pretty lame. But how about this one… So, this one time you’ll never believe the fish I caught! Talk about your whoppers! He was three feet long! Must have weighed a hundred and twenty pounds. I wrangled him for a over an hour and—”

Caller: *click*

(Guess they didn’t like my fish story either!)