Me: “Hello. What can I get for you?”

Customer: “I’d like a grilled cheese without the bread.”

Me: “I’m sorry. Our grilled cheese only comes on bread.”

Customer: “Well, I don’t like bread. Your menu says I can have a grilled cheese, and I want it without bread!”

Me: “Okay, I will be right back with that.”

(I walk into the kitchen, and tell the cook the request. She puts two slices of cheese on a plate, and microwaves it. I then take it out to the Customer.)

Me: “Here you go.”

Customer: “What is this? This isn’t a grilled cheese. Where are the grill marks?”

(I’m stocking the shelf at one end of an aisle. A customer enters at the far end by the milk and is coughing)

Customer: *coughs*

(I briefly glance over. She’s staring at milk.)

Customer: *coughs again*

(There’s a long pause. She’s still staring at milk.)

Customer: *loud coughing*

(I turn to see if she is covering her mouth, but instead see her charging down the aisle at me.)

Customer: “What is wrong with you?! I’ve been coughing to get your attention down there for five minutes! ”

Me: “Ma’am, I glanced over at you several times. You never looked at me.”

Customer: “Oh, yes I did! What does a person have to do here, fall on the floor and have a seizure to get some milk?!”

(I have psoriasis, a hereditary condition which leaves me with large red patches on my scalp. This occurs while I am waiting in line at a convenience store with a woman standing behind me.)

Customer: “What’s wrong with you?”

Me: “I beg your pardon?”

Customer: “Those ugly blotches all over your head. What do you have?”

Me: “Oh, it’s a highly contagious flesh eating disease. Very painful.”

Customer: “Oh my gosh! Really? How contagious is it?”

Me: “Well, you probably already have it.”

Customer: *rushes out of the store in a panic*