Caller: “I just tried to use my card and was told it wasn’t working! What the f*** is going on!? Do you know how embarrassing it is to have your card declined even though I know it has thousands in it?!”

I calm the caller down and go through the security questions with him.

Me: “Sir, before we continue, can I go through some recent transactions with you?”

Caller: “Whatever, just hurry up! I have things I need to buy!”

Me: “Okay, I see an attempted purchase for $341.88 in [Department Store] in Manhattan, New York.”

Caller: “Yes, yes, that was me! At least it would have been if you’d let it go through!”

Me: “Okay, thank you for confirming that was you. I also see an attempted purchase an hour before this one for $6,581.09 in Bangkok, Thailand. Was that also you?”

Caller: “…”

Me: “Sir?”

Caller: *Much calmer now.* “…No …that wasn’t me.”

Me: “I see… well, our system didn’t think it was you, either, so that transaction was denied, and your card has been frozen. You should have gotten a text about it from us a few minutes after it happened.

Pause.

Caller: “Yes… I see it now.”

Me: “A new card will be sent to you, and you should be getting an email from us that explains the best financial security practices, containing tips on how to keep your bank details secure.”

Caller: “I… see.”

Me: “Was there anything else, sir?”

Caller: “No… thank you.” *Click.*

I’m in a hospital ward behind some closed curtains, waiting to be discharged. I overhear a doctor talking to another patient a few beds down:

Doctor: “So what did we learn this weekend?”

Patient: “Don’t put anything up there when I’m drunk.”

Doctor: “Close, don’t put anything up there at all, even when you’re sober.”

Patient: “Don’t be stupid, doctor, why would I shove anything up there while I’m sober?”

I’m managing a restaurant during the COVID mask mandates. I was down in the basement office, and the hostess came in.

Hostess: “There’s a man upstairs who won’t wear a mask and refuses to leave. He demands to speak with the manager.”

No problem, I’ve only done this 894 times at this point. Up the stairs I go.

He’s smugly leaning on the host stand.

Me: “Sir, you have to wear a mask to be in here. It’s mandated by our state.”

Customer: “No, I don’t.”

Me: “Yes, you do. Please put one on or exit the building.”

Customer: “I know my rights.”

Me: “Then you should know we are currently under a mask mandate in this state, and we’re not going to serve you without one.”

Customer: “You can’t force me.”

Me: “I’m not trying to force you. I’m simply telling you your options. Mask or leave.”

Customer: “I am a sovereign citizen, and I don’t abide by any laws or mandates set by any government. You hold no authority over my person or me. You are required to serve me as I am.”

Me: *In my brain.* “Oh for f***’s sake.”

Me: *Out loud.* “I am also a sovereign citizen, and you are currently in a sovereign restaurant. You are on sovereign ground and are subject to my requirements. I require that you leave immediately.”

Customer: “…”

Me: “Please exit the building. You are trespassing on sovereign territory.”

Customer: “Well, there’s a lot of other restaurants in this town!”

Me: “Plenty of options.”

Customer: “I guess I’ll just spend my money somewhere else!”

Me: “Great, we agree.”

Customer: *Storming out.* “This is discrimination! You’ll hear from my lawyer!”

Me: *Calling after him.* “As a sovereign citizen like yourself, I neither recognize nor am under the authority of any court of law!”

Customer: “F*** off!”

I’m surprised he didn’t film the whole thing and camp out until the police came. What is wrong with people? Catch a sovereign boot in your a**.

I worked in a video game store. Back in the PS3 era: 

Customer: “I want to buy some sticks for Rock Band.”

I grabbed them for him. They come in clear plastic packaging, so you can see them.

Customer: “Are these ones compatible with PlayStation 3?”

Me: “They’re wooden sticks. They’re compatible with anything you want to hit them with.”

A customer walks up to the customer service desk with a gallon of milk.

Customer: “I need to return this milk.”

Me: “That’s [Competitor’s Brand] milk. This is [My Store].”

Customer: “But I need to return it.”

Me: “You didn’t buy it here, so I can’t return it for you. You need to go to [Competitor].”

Customer: “No, you don’t understand. It’s… cursed.”

She places the milk on the ground, in the middle of the entrance to an aisle, backs away slowly, and then turns to the exit and dashes out.

Bizarre, but it’s retail, so whatever. I go to pick up the milk, stop, go to the cleaning cupboard, get some gloves, and then take the milk out to the back to dispose of it.

I was disappointed when it didn’t scream as I poured it down the sink.