I work at a pet store, we supply small live goldfish as feeders for people's larger fish/turtles/etc. Customer, henceforth known as CS, comes in and needs twenty of them. Sure no problem.
Now, feeders are kept in a big tank in our backroom. This is done mostly because the tank is incredibly over-stocked and has a high die off rate. Pretty standard for feeder tanks, but it looks awful to people who don't grasp that a hundred goldfish in even a large tank is gonna have problems, so we keep it out of sight. Anyway - I go into the back, bag his fish, and hand it over. He notices there is a dead one in the bag.
Ok! My bad, truly, but no biggie. I get the dead one out in front of him and dispose of it, then get him a new one and he's on his way.
Two hours later the floor manager gets a call from the guy, cursing and screaming that I sold him dead fish. He is told to return them, and I get approached with a "uhm...what?" -- I explain myself and mention that if these fish have been in the bag for the last two hours, there is indeed quite a high chance that they would have started dying as the ammonia builds up in the water and the air in the bag depletes. Eyes are rolled at the customer blaming us for their own fuck up and no more thought is given to it until he shows up.
CS goes on another rant to the manager about the whole ordeal, never shopping here again, I should be fired, irate way beyond what the $4 bag of fish justifies. To the point that we don't even bother explaining why you can't leave fish in a bag like th--oh. He brought the bag back as evidence that they are all dead.
The floor manager brings the bag to me and hands it to me without a word.
One job I had in high school was as a cashier at a locally based large supermarket chain. This was a fairly typical regional grocer, stores open 24x7 and large enough to have pharmacies, bakeries, etc. At the time, there were two ways to buy cigarettes at the store; you could go to the customer service desk where you could buy by the pack or carton, or you could buy a full carton at any register.
For the cashier to make the latter happen, they had to page the manager, who would then go the service desk to get the customer's carton and bring it to the cashier. The cashier would then check ID and ring it up with whatever else the customer was buying (I'm pretty sure all the cigarettes are now sold through the service desk).
One day I was at work and an older guy came up to my line. He looked almost like he could be in an anti-smoking ad; his teeth were terrible, his skin looked like leather, he could barely breathe and he looked like he was liable to fall over at any moment. I was, at most, 16 years old at the time and had never even handled any kind of tobacco prior to that job.
He then attempted to tell me what kind of cigarettes he wanted. "Pawmaw!" He exclaimed.
I knew of about 5 brands of cigarettes prior to starting that job, so my first response was "Marlboro?"
"No, Pawmaw!" he exclaimed.
"Camel?" I asked.
"No, PAWMAW!!" he said again, with more enthusiasm but no more clarity.
Normally we would page the manager to call our lane, and then we could tell them the brand of cigarette and they could go to the service desk first, saving them the extra trip to our register. However I had to ask the manager to come to my lane as I had absolutely no idea what the man was asking for.
Through that transaction I learned of the existence of "Pall Mall" cigarettes. I've been told they have long been favored by the 60+ set.