Me: “I can only take cards right now, no cash. Is that okay?”

Customer: “Yeah!”

I ring through some items, and they bring out a roll of bills.

Me: “I can only take cards right now.”

Customer: “Oh. I only have cash.”

Me: “What do you think those sounds my mouth made earlier meant?”

Customer: “What sounds?”

My store is close to a halfway house, and some people come through looking to get new phones activated and other necessities when they get to the house. There was one really nice guy who had been locked up for about twenty years and was trying to make his way back into society and figure out all the technology that he had missed.

He was a really chill and nice guy, so after I sold and activated the phone for him, I showed him how to use it fully — how to turn it on and off, call, text, etc.. He would come back specifically for me and ask a number of very basic questions about his phone (and his eventual smartphone), smart TVs, and anything else he’d buy as he got used to life on the outside.

One day, he came in to buy a laptop and a headset. When I asked what it was for, he told me he was moving in with his sister and her kid down in LA. They were teaching him how to play World Of Warcraft, and he wanted to have his own computer and join them on Discord to play. He had come to me for help with it.

I made sure he had it set up, the game installed, and Discord joined. I even gave him advice about character creation and helped him through the introductory parts of the game during my lunch break. Every piece of advice came with a “Wow, that’s amazing!” or “I wish I’d had this when I was a kid; things might have been different!” 

That was the last time I saw him, and I think back occasionally, hoping he is living his best life out there.

I was working at a big department store in the deli section. Specifically, I did most of the cooking for our hot cases. In this story, I was making the packs of fried chicken and handling the rotisserie chickens. I had my routine down pat: start with half batches so any of the three people who wanted that in the morning could get it, and for easy cooling to save it.

One day, multiple bigwigs from corporate were stopping by for a visit and noticed that the hot cases weren’t full to the brim at 8:30 am, despite multiples of every option being available, which indeed had to be taken out later to be cooled and saved. They told the store manager, who told the co-manager to tell the deli to make more — which is what he did.

Co-Manager: “Hey, these hot cases aren’t full.”

Me: “Because we won’t sell that much.”

Co-Manager: “They need to be full.”

Me: “I’m not going to waste that much time and food.”

Co-Manager: “Listen here. I want you to start cooking chickens, and I don’t want you to stop.”

Oh, no. Did he really say that?

Me: “Are you sure?”

Co-Manager: “Yes. I. Am.”

Me: “Gotcha.”

And so, I got to work. I was pissed about this brown-nosing POS not realizing that I was the one who increased sales and reduced waste to the point where it was seeing the best numbers in years, but I did exactly what he said. I did not stop cooking chickens. The ovens were both turned on and were stuffed as full as they could go. I was using both frying vats to cook the fried chicken, which pretty much required a filter clean after each batch.

I was only forty-five minutes into my shift when I was told what to do. I did not stop cooking chicken for the entire day. All of my coworkers asked what I was doing. and I responded that I was only doing what I was told.

As the bigwigs were winding their visit down, they saw the now full-to-the-brim hot cases and told the co-manager to relay that it looked great.

Co-Manager: “Hey, the hot cases look great!”

Me: “Thanks! I did what you told me to do. I didn’t stop cooking chickens all day. By the way, we are out of chicken.”

The co-manager got wide-eyed and quickly left. A short while later, he returned looking like he’d gotten a talking-to, and I’m guessing he’d actually looked at the numbers to see how well the deli had been doing.

Co-Manager: “You can go back to the way you were doing it.”

Me: “Thank you.”

And this is the cherry on top: we had just gotten a truck that day, which meant that for the next three days, we had no chicken to cook at all. The best part is that all of that chicken was properly cooled, stored, and donated. The driver was VERY happy to be getting a literal pallet of fried and rotisserie chickens. I’m sure it helped feed a lot of people.

Strangely, that co-manager was transferred shortly afterward, and I can’t imagine why. I left shortly after to a place much closer to me.

I work at a bank. Obviously, security is important here. I answer the phone.

Me: “Hello, you’re speaking to—”

Client: *Drunk and angry* “F*** off and listen. My card isn’t working, and I’m in a bar in Thailand waiting to get my c**k sucked. Fix it now.”

Me: “And this is a [Bank] card, correct?”

Client: “Of course it is. Why else would I ring you?”

Me: “All right, sir, but first—”

He swears under his breath.

Me: “I need your customer ID number.”

Client: “What the f*** is that?”

Me: “Your sixteen-digit number used for telephone and online banking.”

Client: “How the f*** am I supposed to know that?”

Me: “[Bank] gives this number to you when you join us. It starts with your birthday and ends with four other numbers you should know.”

Client: *Shouting* “Well, I don’t f****** know it, so just fix my card.”

I tell him that before I can fix his card, I need to identify who he even is. I ask for his sort code and account number, and he only knows the sort code. I use this to bring up the first page of his account, which gives basics but no security information. It indicates that he is bankrupt, which may explain why the card isn’t working.

Me: “Unfortunately, you will have to call back tomorrow and speak to the fraud team so they can ID you.”

Client: “What the f****** f*** do you mean ‘call tomorrow’? I need it fixed now! If you don’t, I’ll sue you — not the bank, you — for not allowing me to just access my account without any hassle. Do you know who I am? I have millions of pounds in your bank, and I will ruin you.”

Remember, he’s bankrupt.

Me: “Sir, threatening me will accomplish nothing. [Bank] has specific guidelines to protect you, your account, and those ‘millions’ of pounds.”

A heavy silence.

Client: “Did you say ‘[Bank]’?”

Me: “Yes, my name is [My Name], and I work for [Bank].”

Client: “Never mind. This is a [Bank #2] card.”

I am a woman, checking out a woman customer and she says to me out of the blue:

Customer: “Did you know doctors extract belly fat from women’s abdomens in order to give them bigger breasts? You would be a candidate. Kill two birds with one stone!”

Me: “That is very rude of you to just suggest like that. I have a health plan for my body, and I am currently working on it.”

Customer: “Oh, no need to be sensitive about it, dear. I can show you how to really help!”

Me: “I don’t need your help. Please pay or leave.”

Customer: “Don’t you want a better body? Imagine having no more body issues!”

Me: “The only body issue we’re about to have is a body count. Get out!”