(My husband and I are at the local theater. I grab a bag of pre-boxed popcorn from the display case, take a bite, and realize I’ve grabbed the wrong kind. Note: an employee is working the popcorn concession and watches me the whole time, as we’re the only customers there.)

Me: “I’m so sorry but I grabbed the wrong popcorn. I didn’t want the sweet kind. Unfortunately I’ve ready eaten some. Can you please throw it away for me? I’ll pay for it, of course, but I’d like to order the regular popcorn.”

Employee #1: “No problem! Here’s your regular popcorn. And there’s no charge for the other one. It was a mistake. Don’t worry about it.”

(She takes my already-eaten popcorn and sets it on the counter behind her. At this point, her coworker sees the eaten popcorn sitting on the counter.)

Employee #2: “Did the customer not want this? Should I put it back in the display?”

Employee #1: “Oh yeah, put it back.”

(They put my old popcorn—the one with my mouth germs on it—back in the display case for sale!)

Me: “Hi, I’d like the eggplant parmesan sandwich, please.”

Employee: “We outta eggs.”

Me: “Oh, no, not egg; I’d like the EGGPLANT sandwich.”

Employee: “WE OUTTA EGGS.”

Me: “But… eggs and eggplant are two different things. Eggplant is a big purple vegetable.”

(The employee shrugs at me, and then turns to his manager.)

Employee: “Hey, we got any eggplant?”

Manager: “Nah, we outta eggs.”

Related:
Egg-xtraordinarily Flip-Plant

(I’ve just begun my shift, so I speak to my manager to check on things.)

Me: “Is there anything I need to know, like anything we’re out of, can’t make, or trying to push?”

Manager: “No.”

(The manager walks away, totally emotionless and uninterested. Note that I’m at the drive-thru register, far away from everything else in the restaurant.)

Customer: “Yes, I’d like two [ice cream product] please.”

Me: “Your total is [amount]. Please pull forward to the first window.”

(Suddenly, I hear my manager shout from the front of the store.)

Manager: “WE DON’T HAVE ICE CREAM!”

(I am 23. I walk to a store near where I live to get some things, including a bottle of wine.)

Cashier: “Can I see some ID, please?”

(I search for my driver’s license, but can’t find it.)

Me: “Hm, I guess I must have left it at home. Just take off the wine, then.”

Cashier: “If you don’t show me some ID, I can’t sell this to you.”

Me: “I know. Just take it off, please. I’ll just get the rest of the stuff.”

Cashier: “Look, what don’t you understand? I can’t sell you alcohol if you don’t show me some ID. It’s a felony.”

Me: “What I don’t understand is on what planet bread has alcohol in it.”

(The cashier looks at my other items for a moment, and then blushes.)

Cashier: “Oh! You wanted to just buy the rest of the stuff!”

Me: “Yeah… that would be great.”

Fiancé: “Hi, can we get a large and a small coffee?”

Drive-thru Worker: “So that’s two medium coffees. Anything else?”

Fiancé: “No, it’s a large and a small.”

Drive-thru Worker: “Two mediums. Anything else?”

Fiancé: “A large and a small!”

Drive-thru Worker: “Two mediums?”

Fiancé: *facepalms* “Yes. Two medium coffees.”