(This took place a few years ago when I was working for a well known cheap clothes shop. I’m usually just a cashier but I have been asked to tidy up the men’s section. A middle aged woman approaches me; her late-teens son is hanging in the background.)

Customer: “What size boxers does my son need?” *calls him over*

Me: *a bit taken aback* “Oh, uhm, what size is he usually in boxers?”

(At this point I’m feeling so sorry for her son; he looks so embarrassed!)

Customer: “Well, he’s usually a medium as he has quite a big package!”

Me: *inside I’m cringing as I DID NOT NEED TO KNOW THAT!* “The medium boxers here should fit, then! Anything else you need help with?”

Customer: “Yes, are you single? My son is such a lovely young man, you know!”

Me: “I’m sure he is madam, but I’m taken. Sorry!”

(I quickly scurried away and begged to be put back on tills! That poor boy!)