(I’m ringing up a customer. My store uses a lot of glitter.)

Customer: “Do you have sanitary wipes? You should wipe the blood off the PIN pad.”

(Surprised and concerned, I look over to check the touch screen of the pad.)

Me: “Ma’am, that’s just glitter; nothing to worry about!”

Customer: “Well, it’s red and it looks like blood.”

Me: “It’s just a little red glitter, just that time of year. It’s perfectly all right.”

Customer: “Red glitter, what do they think of?”

(The customer paid and went on her merry way.)

(I work in a small stationery and book store, but we also provide a fax service. We charge $2 as a base price; there is no extra charge if it is a local number or an 800-number, and an extra charge by minute according to the destination is applied if it is not local. It may get a little more pricey if it is outside the Quebec region. Customers usually come to our store, as it is the cheapest; the other store offering the service charges $2 a sheet they send. One day a customer comes in to fax a four-page document to Ontario. After a few minutes, I receive the confirmation and I ring her up.)

Me: “That will be $4.50.”

(She looks at me as if I’ve just told her it would cost $400. She then proceeds to scream in disbelief.)

Customer: “$4.50 FOR A FAX?!”

Me: *confused, as no one has ever complained for the cost* “Yes?”

Customer: “FOUR dollars FIFTY, for a FAX?! FOUR FIFTY?!”

(She then storms out of the store with her sheets in her hands without paying and still yelling how it is crazy and so expensive and all. I’m frozen in place, staring at the door with a look of “What just happened?” on my face. I slowly turn around to look at the remaining three customers, two who were browsing and one that was waiting to come to the counter. They are just as confused as I am, and we just look at each other in disbelief for a moment before one of the customers, an old teacher of mine, comments how crazy that woman was. We all agree, and I go back to my normal self and delete the transaction. That is when my boss decides to come back from her lunch break. She stops as soon as she enters, seeing us all like this, a bit confused as to why there is a very awkward ambiance and why we all seem a bit frozen in place. After everyone is gone, she asks me what happened, and I tell her, with a description of the woman. She starts laughing.)

Boss: “I’m so sorry; I know it’s not funny, but what can we do? Better to laugh about it than cry. She’s the one in the wrong; if she ever comes back, which I doubt she will, make her pay and watch her closely.”

Me: “If that happens, I’m not giving her papers back until she pays.”

(My boss starts laughing even more and proceeds to tease me for the following week, telling customers we see often what happened when they ask why she teases me that much. Fast forward a month and a half; the woman comes back! As soon as I see her I brace myself. As soon as she sees me, she seems uncomfortable, and she comes to me to say sorry and make up an excuse. Still suspicious, I say it’s okay and ask if I can help her. She takes a pen and wants to send another fax. This time I keep the documents on the other side of the counter. I ring her up.)

Customer: “Do I have to pay for the other time?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but yes, you have to.”

Customer: *sounding defeated* “All right…”

Me: “That will be $10.35.”

(She pays, and THEN I give her back her papers. She leaves, and my boss comes up to me.)

Boss: “Was that the one that freaked out about the price of her fax last time?”

Me: “Yeah… I made her pay for the other one, too, and kept her papers until she paid so she couldn’t flee again.”

(My boss started laughing again, and started to tell me again about customers she’d had that were just as weird. Since then, I always keep a hand on the documents of people I’ve never seen or that look shady, just in case.)

(I work in a bookstore in customer service. I restocking a shelf when a customer possibly in her mid-20s approaches me for assistance finding a book.)

Me: “What can I help you find today?”

Customer: *currently browsing self-help books* “I’m looking for a present for my boyfriend.”

Me: “Did you have something specific in mind, or were you looking for recommendations?”

Customer: “Recommendations. I want something either for teenagers or adults. And it can be nonfiction or fiction. And preferably religious or non-religious. And that has a male protagonist. And it can be sci-fi, fantasy, or realistic. And it can either be a series or a single book.”

(So, basically the whole store.)

Me: “And how old is your boyfriend?”

Customer: “He’s a teenager.”

Me: “I can show you some of our more popular teen fiction series. Here’s one I’ve read that is my favorite and has a strong male lead.”

Customer: “He’s 25. Is this religious?”

Me: “Oh, uh, then he might not enjoy the teen fiction section. But we are the same age, and I still like some of them, particularly the one I showed you. I can show you our religion section, though. If you want something religious, it would be there. Is that something he’s interested in?”

Customer: “No. I don’t want religious, but I do. You know?”

(She takes the young adult books I recommended and follows me to the religion section, constantly mumbling to herself and repeating, “I don’t know,” under her breath and laughing.)

Me: “Here’s our selection of religious books. I’m not familiar with my titles in this section, but can find someone better equipped to help you.”

Customer: “No, no. This is not what I want. I don’t want this. Take me back to the other section.”

(I took her back to our young adult fiction section and let her browse, but told to let me know if she had any questions. I saw her later asking a coworker if a different book from our teen fiction section was religious. The worker told her no, and she screamed, “I don’t want religious!” loud enough for other customers to stop and stare. She walked away looking confused and ended up buying him a Bible.)

(I work at a bank. A different branch has a coin counter for its account holders. We are a very small location without a coin counter, located in a mall. Policy says we aren’t allowed to accept loose change over $10 — only rolled coins — and we have a sign up saying this. A customer enters the store with his daughter, carrying a large pickle jar full of coins, and asks for it to be exchanged for paper money. When the teller explains policy, he asks to speak to me.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but we just aren’t allowed to take large volumes of coins. There is a coin counter at [Nearby Branch], or if you give me your account information I can give you free coin rolls.”

Customer: “I don’t have an account.”

Me: “Then I’m afraid you’ll have to purchase coin rolls. They sell them at the dollar store.”

Customer: “Why don’t you just count the f****** coins and do your job?”

Me: “That’s hours of work we just won’t do for someone who isn’t an account holder. I know there’s a [Coin-Counting Machine] at the local grocery store.”

Customer: “I’m not paying a fee to get this changed to folding money! So what? My money just isn’t good here?”

Me: “You’re not purchasing anything, and I’m not obligated to do a tender exchange for someone who isn’t a customer. You can visit [Branch] and see if they will let you use their coin counter.”

Daughter: “You don’t need a coin counter; just weigh the coins.”

Me: “It doesn’t work that way.”

Daughter: “Yeah, if you weigh the coins, you can tell how much is in it.”

Me: “No. Coins weigh different amounts, so you can’t tell by weighing a mixed jar how much value it has.”

Daughter: “Yeah! I Googled it, just right now. Five pounds of coins is like, forty dollars. You should give me eighty dollars for this.”

(She has been standing there the whole time, and in no way has Googled anything.)

Me: “No. It really doesn’t work that way.”

Customer: “Fine! I don’t need this bulls***!”

(He slammed the jar onto the counter and stormed off. We left it there for an hour, then turned it over to mall security. After ninety days, they declared it abandoned, and a security guard went through the jar. Mixed in with the coins were lead slugs. Despite this, when he actually rolled the coins, they amounted to about $170. They donated this to the same charity that coins in the fountain go to. All we can figure is it was a ridiculously poorly thought-out scam.)

(I answer the phone on Saturday:)

Me: “Hello. [Vet Clinic]. This is [My Name]; how can I help you?”

Client: “I think I need to bring my dog in to see you guys.”

Me: “Of course. What is your dog’s name, and your last name?”

Client: “Bruiser Jones.”

(I pull up Bruiser’s file and see that his annual examination, vaccines, and routine testing were all due yesterday.)

Me: “It looks like it’s time for Bruiser’s annual exam, vaccines, and heartworm test; is that what you wanted to come in for?”

Client: “Yes.”

Me: “Okay, when would you like to come in?”

Client: “Monday afternoon, if that’s possible.”

Me: “We can do Bruiser’s annual on Monday at 3:00 with [Doctor he has seen before]. How is that?”

Client: “I’ll take it.”

Me: “Okay, I’ve got you down. Bruiser is doing well, right, no concerns?”

Client: “Well, he’s coughing. That’s why I called you.”

Me: “Oh, that sounds like something we should check out. [Doctor] can still see you, but we only vaccinate healthy pets; if they’re already sick we don’t want to make their immune systems work even harder by giving them a bunch of vaccines. So, we can take care of the cough, but the annual exam and vaccines will have to wait a couple of weeks until Bruiser is feeling better.”

Client: “I wasn’t going to do the vaccines until January, anyway; I can’t afford them right now, what with the holidays coming up.”

Me: “Okay. Bruiser is doing well, otherwise, though, right? Still eating and drinking? Normal energy? Any vomiting or diarrhea?”

Client: “Well, my friend is watching him because I’m out of town, but I think he’s fine except for the cough. Does he need to be seen sooner?”

Me: “Well, I can’t say for sure without seeing him, but usually as long as he is still eating and drinking well and isn’t having other symptoms, it should be fine to wait until Monday. We actually close in about half an hour, and we’re closed on Sundays, as well, but I can give you the number of a 24-hour clinic if you’re concerned, or in case anything changes.”

Client: “I have it already; I think I’ll just wait until Monday.”

Me: “Okay, please call us from the car when you arrive; coughs can be contagious, so we want to make sure we have an exam room available for you so Bruiser won’t need to stand in the lobby.”

Client: “Okay.”

Me: “Have a great day; we’ll see you Monday at 3:00.”

(I hang up the phone.)

Coworker #1: “What was that about?”

Me: “A client with a sick dog called, but when I asked, he said he wanted to schedule an annual exam with vaccines. He didn’t tell me the dog was coughing until I double-checked he had no concerns.”

Coworker #1: “I wish people would tell us up front that they have sick pets.”

Me: “It’s amazing how many people suddenly remember their pet is sick when I ask if everything is going well after they call to schedule an annual exam.”

Doctor: “Yeah, I had a new puppy yesterday where the clients said there were no problems. We did the whole exam, all the vaccines, decided on heartworm and flea preventatives, and had the long ‘new puppy talk’ before the owner said, ‘Doc, I have a question. Is it normal for him to cough all the time?’”