I worked as a clerk through high school and college in a low income area of a rural, economically depressed former mining town. Weird stuff was a weekly occurrence.

My personal favorite story to tell is: "The Tale of Two Bathrooms"

One day when I was seventeen I got called to the courtesy desk (I assumed to help a customer find something or clean a mess-- I was partially right on both counts) I was handed a paint of neatly pressed pants and jockeys by the girl behind the counter. She said a gentleman in the men's room needed them... You can see where this is going. But hold on, there's a few bumps. I enter the men's room to find a 300+ pound man standing in front of the only two stalls looking like his dog just jumped from a moving car. He obviously had to take a shit, but the handicap stall (preferable for a man of his size) was obviously occupied.

He then in a fit of desperation grabbed the handle of the handicap door and jostled it lightly. A small whimper came from the other side. He then jostled it again, no response that time. The third time he grabbed the top of the door as well and shook it as hard as he could (meanwhile I'm standing stock still with ironed pants and under britches in my hand). From behind the door I hear a mIan that was a cross between Woodhouse from Archer and and a Wookie who just nutted. The fat man, feeling nature's call getting too close for comfort, shouted "FUCK. FUCK THIS TOWN." And then proceeded to back his oversized ass into the normal stall. He got stuck two times on the way down (walls were too narrow for his ass). Ass he proceeded to destroy the normal stall with gusto, vengeance and the door jammed open due to his large thighs, I slipped past and knocked on the handicap door. A man answered smelling of shit, I passed him the fresh clothes and left the room contemplating quitting.

Also, bonus story, later that night we discovered a girl in pajamas wedged under the sink in the ladies room eating a pint of ice cream and sobbing.