Real Life Customer Service Stories That Turned Into Total Nightmares

Real Life Customer Service Stories That Turned Into Total Nightmares


The worst part about working a customer service job is the customers that you have to serve. Many waiters and waitresses are young people working their way through school and while they don't get paid much, they have to deal with some truly rude and incredibly impolite people.

Thankfully, their stories serve as reminders that sometimes people get what is coming to them!

Repeat Customer


I had a repeat customer who started watching me for hours at a time as I worked. He walked over to me one day, told me how beautiful I was, and asked about my love life.

I decided to transfer to another store when he started asking me to come over to his place for the weekend because he would be alone. When he found out I was leaving, he did something I’ll never forget—he grabbed my hair and started to cry.


Going the Extra Mile


When I was a server, I was that server that everyone claims they would always be if they did one day become a server in a restaurant. I filled up glasses when they needed to be refilled without asking, I brought out a bowl of lemons if you asked for lemons;

if you wanted extra ice, you got a whole extra glass full of ice. Heck, I was even careful enough to write down every order even though I could easily memorize it and get it right.

One particularly busy night, I’m working a party of about 20 people. It’s a Friday night and the kitchen is slammed. Everything was going smooth, I thought—until I bring out the drinks and salads.

There is one idiot that starts off saying I didn’t bring her anything right (wrong dressing, drink had a lemon, too much ice, etc.). I play the gracious and apologetic server correcting the issue despite knowing she is wrong.

The meal comes out. It goes from bad to worse. She explodes about how I can’t seem to do anything right and what a screw up I am.

I proceed to congratulate her on the fine example she is setting for the kids at the table on how to treat another human being, and what classy language she was using. I then proceeded to show her where I wrote down everything she asked for.

The type of salad, the dressing she wanted, how she wanted it on the side, pulled the straw I gave her from under her bread plate and told her that I did give her one.

I also talked about how I heard when her sister had ordered another dish, that she told her sister that she wanted that dish instead, and advised that she maybe should have simply asked for me to change the order instead of trying to play it off as if I was truly a “screw up” as she claimed.

I said maybe next time she would do a better job of making sure the server was not in earshot when she says something like that.

I then told her that I would go and have the kitchen fix the meal she really wanted, instead of the one she ordered, and that it would take about 10 minutes before it was ready. Needless to say, the whole table was quiet. Then came the most glorious moment.

Her father piped up and simply said, “Honey, It’s about time someone called you out on your antics.” The old man gave me a $100.00 tip when he paid for the meal, strong handshake, and a thanks.


Where is My Second Drink?


I was working at a popular Italian “fine dining” chain. We opened at 11 AM, but I was scheduled for 10:30 AM to do opening duties. Two middle-aged women were at the doors at 10:45 AM.

I prepared myself for two crazy Karens—but they were so much worse than I feared. We let them in because it wasn’t a big deal. However, they both ordered drinks, and our bartender didn’t get there until 11 AM. I let them know, and they seemed ok with it.

I dropped off a couple of waters while they waited for their drinks. The one woman said, “That’s great, honey, but that’s NOT what I wanted! HAHA!” They smiled, and it was clear she was just trying to make a bad joke. I told them again that it was only 10:55 AM, and the bartender was not in yet.

They told me to make the drinks. I couldn’t because of corporate rules, so I asked my manager to make the drinks. While he did that, I took their food orders. By 11:05 AM, they had their appetizers and beverages and said, “UGH was that so HARD? FINALLY!”

Other guests, including young families, began to arrive and sit in my section. They ate half the calamari appetizer and decided it was undercooked.

I asked the kitchen to drop new calamari in and cook it a minute longer than typical. That ruined the calamari. They hated it and said, “I’m not eating this garbage!” and I asked the manager to take it off their check. They were taking up a lot of my time and asking for many little things.

I went to take care of some other tables. But I wasn’t the only one who hated them. The customers at the other tables asked if I was ok and requested that the women stop swearing so much in front of their children. When I reminded the women that they were in a family restaurant, they replied,

“Blah blah blah free country. Oh, I want another DRINK!” I put the order in. Their meals were up right at that moment, so I returned within a minute to drop their food off.

They yelled, “WHERE IS MY SECOND DRINK?!?! HELLO!?!” Now they were banging their half-empty glasses on the table. They continued to yell at me to the point where I started to cry while still trying to take care of my other tables, which posed no problems.

I asked my manager to take over the rude folks and to let them know they were cut off. He tore them a new one in the way only managers are allowed to. They got upset they couldn’t order more drinks and asked for the check and left.

They barely left enough cash to cover the bill, but one came back and asked if she left enough of a tip. I said, “No. You left me a 2% tip.” She gave me five more dollars and, luckily, I never saw them again.


Shoe Swap


I work in a shoe shop. One of the services we supply is to check how well school shoes fit on our younger customers. Once a staff member has signed to say they are a good fit, the customer is able to bring them back if there are any problems.

This one time, a mother came back in with her son a week after being fitted with a pair, loudly mouthing off that the shoes were too tight and causing blisters.

Even though she was being a psycho about it, we offered to get her a new pair. Once back in the kids department, she spotted the girl who fitted the original shoes and went crazy at her, demanding that the girl should be there while a better pair was fitted so she wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

Despite the mom saying some pretty degrading stuff about her, the girl agreed to sit in on the re-fit in an attempt to help out.

She remembered the customer, even to the point of remembering the child’s name, and was visibly upset about doing a bad job. Returning to the till, the fitter offered to put the exchange through as a final gesture of goodwill. 

She then froze, realization dawning on her. “These aren’t your son’s shoes,” she said to the customer. They have a name tag inside saying Tommy, and your son’s name is Billy.

Turns out the kid had swapped his shoes with another boy in his class. Laughed that witch out of the shop.



Not Hot Enough


I was working at a restaurant when a nice-looking family of four came in. The parents ordered a sizzling fajita plate for two. When I brought out the fajitas on the skillet, they were sizzling like they are supposed to be.

That wasn’t hot enough for them. They asked me to go back and make them hotter. So, I took it back to the kitchen where the kitchen manager decided to pull out a blow torch. He heated the iron skillet up to burning red, then threw the fajitas back on the skillet and sent me back out with them to the table.

The father at the table was not very pleased with the profuse amounts of smoke billowing from the plate, and his next move was absolutely appalling—he decided to throw the thing at me.

Luckily he had bad aim and missed me. He just broke a window. The manager got his information, told him to get out, and we would be contacting him about replacing the window he broke.


I Want a New Camera


I used to work in Best Buy services. It was sort of like Geek Squad before Geek Squad and it dealt with everything like TVs and VCRs and junk. One day we had a guy come in and complain about his little video camera not working.

I agree to take a look at it even though there’s not much I can do but send it back to the manufacturer for him. It will take some time, but that was 90% of the problem people had with services. Naturally, this guy wants a new one on the spot and he starts getting REALLY loud about it. So I call the manager.

While I’m waiting for them to come up, I’m still tinkering with the camera in the back. I get some tools out and, hey, look I got the thing open for the guy. When I saw what was on it, I knew we had him.

A minute or so later I come back out when the manager gets there. The manager is talking to the guy as I move a computer up to the counter. I jump in and say, “Hey, I don’t think we should give this guy a new unit.”

The guy gives me dagger eyes and the manager is like, “Oh? why’s that?” Then I play the footage of what is unmistakably someone running around a pool, dropping the camera, which tumbles into the pool.

He had taken out the tape but it was recorded to the memory stick. Guy takes his camera and quietly leaves the store.


That's One Way to Get a Good Tip


I worked at a restaurant with my mom. I got the job when I was 18, and my mom had been working there for 25 years. She worked her way up from waiting tables to bartending and had been bartending for years by then. The first summer I worked there as a server, it was a typical, busy summer night.

My mom and I had been there all day. We had both been working double shifts, and it was coming close to 6 PM. The restaurant was set up with a bar side and a dining room side. I was in the dining room with two other servers; one was an older lady. 

I remember hearing a horrible scream. The older lady ended up slipping and falling right in front of the kitchen to the door. She shattered her elbow and her knee.

She couldn’t move, so at that point, we were all waiting for the ambulance to arrive. Dishes were stacking up, and no food was going out of the kitchen because none of us could get in. My manager that night had to take over all the tables from the server who fell had.

Just before the server fell, I had a new table seated. Apparently, the host informed me she saw the couple practically fist fighting in the parking lot before they came in. I greeted the table, and they seemed okay. They both ordered drinks, and I brought them promptly.

They ordered their food and ended up getting FOUR entrees for the both of them. They were all expensive seafood dishes, and at that point, their check was over $100.

A couple of minutes after I put the food order in is when the other server slipped and fell. Therefore, the food for my table was taking a little longer. The food finally came, and my mom just happened to help me run it over.

We put it down, and the woman goes, “FINALLY.” We explained that an older server fell in the kitchen and had significant injuries. There’s no WAY they didn’t hear it.

Then the man then said, “WELL, THAT’S JUST GREAT.” The woman started manhandling the lobster roll she got, complaining it was cold. I told her we could get her another one right away and asked if they needed anything else. The lady said, “Well, now I NEED another drink!”

My mom was bartending and I had about five other tables going. So, my mom made the drinks and brought them to the table. The woman at the table said to her, “Oh, well, you’re really good at your job.”

My mom told her she had been there for 25 years, to which the woman responded, “Oh, so you have to pick up the slack for all the others?” My mom said, “No, we are a team and all help each other. Plus, your server is my daughter.”

The woman was looking to get a reaction, so she said the meanest thing possible: “Oh well, I’m really sorry about that.” Being a calm and collected person, my mom just said, “Well, I’m not. My daughter is pretty great.”

The woman lost her mind and began screaming and cursing at my mother at the top of her lungs in the middle of the dining room. The man at the table got up in the middle of the interaction and just went outside.

My manager ended up having to comp all of their food. Other tables that weren’t even mine were coming over to me and apologizing because they had seen what happened. They even overtipped me because they felt bad about what went down.


You're Not Gonna Find It Here


I used to work at an office that had an obnoxious guy come in. We openly advertise that we offer free water and coffee/tea to our customers, as we have a huge fridge at the reception and a coffee machine just behind it. He walked in demanding to speak with the most senior person.

Unfortunately, that was me. He sat down, and I came over to introduce myself. He straightaway handed me his coat to hang up without even saying anything. That was his first strike. Then, as I went to go behind the reception desk to hang up his jacket, I heard a whistle.

I didn’t think too much of it as I was trying to make room for his coat. Then I heard it again, along with a click of his fingers. I turned around and saw this guy beckoning me over, and now he had my attention. He said, “Oh, and I wouldn’t mind a cappuccino while you’re up.”

I stormed over, gave him back his coat, and ushered him out the front door. He demanded to know what was going on, so I told him, “If you are looking for your dog, you ain’t gonna find it here.”

The look on his face was priceless. The complaint that came in afterward was hilarious, and my telling him off was completely worth it.


The Best Day of High School

resize14120801457_f4a24f2c80_o.jpg.optimal.jpgFlickr / Mike Mozart / CC 2.0

During high school, I worked at a Burger King. There was this one woman who would always come into drive thru during the afternoon and ask for a Whopper Jr with extra onions.

And I mean, a LOT of extra onions. And no matter how many we put in, she always came into the store and complained that there weren’t enough. Still, this was in the middle of the afternoon, so we didn’t care.

However, one day, we had four buses full of US Army enlistees at the store at the same time. Convoys of chartered buses would go by periodically, and they usually stopped at our store because the bus drivers knew my boss.

Now, these people were always the nicest, most respectful people you can possibly imagine, which was a welcome change after dealing with jerks the whole day.

They also always ordered a ton of food—all king-size, tons of double and triple whoppers, the whole nine yards. My boss would always have me give them the “senior discount” (15% off), and they enjoyed that immensely, because it said that they were getting a senior discount on their receipts.

Anyways, nice as they were, they strained our store to the limit because they ordered so much food.

So we were almost literally going hammer and tongs to keep up, and then the worst happens. Onion woman comes into drive thru.

My boss told me to just grab two handfuls of onions and put them on the sandwich, because she didn’t need a scene when we were as far behind as we were. I could barely close the burger because of the onions, but I managed it and we gave it to her.

Now remember, the store is completely full of US Army enlistees. They probably have not had fast food for weeks (I think they were going from boot camp to get their first assignments).

And the line was out the door. So onion woman pushes her way past all of these people, rudely shoving them out of her way, and comes up to the counter screaming that she didn’t have enough onions. My boss is angry, so she takes the sandwich, hands it to me, and tells me to do whatever I want with it. 

I knew just what to do. I dumped the ENTIRE TUB of onions on this (probably about 1.5 LITERS of onions), and wrapped it up really, REALLY tight, and taped it shut (Note that the wrappers were somewhat elastic…).

My boss hands it to the woman, and she opens it right on the counter to “make sure we have enough” even though it’s like six times bigger than normal.

The thing EXPLODED ALL OVER. SO freaking awesome. All the guys trying not to laugh. One of their officers (a quite young 1st Lt.) was waiting by the counter for his food, and finally he just gave up and started laughing his butt off.

The men took this as a cue, and she had about 250 men dying laughing at her. One of the best days of my high school life. She didn’t come back for a month, and she never, EVER complained about not having enough onions.


Refusing to Serve


When I was bartending one night, I had two people come in who seemed a little loose but not so much that I shouldn’t serve them. I gave them a round or two, and they were having fun and interacting well with customers—until they weren’t.

They started crossing the line, so the time came to cut them off. I apologized and had to let them know that I couldn’t serve them anymore because they were being disruptive and were obviously very loaded.

At that point, one of the two started yelling at me for refusing to serve her. It got so bad that the customers around her began to defend my choice. She then started throwing a tantrum at them, as well as my manager after that.

And, somehow, she wasn’t even the worst one! Her friend had meanwhile retreated to the bathroom and set fire to one of the wicker baskets that we used as a trash can.



13-Hour Shift


I worked a 13-hour shift catering to more than 6,000 people—all bankers and their families. Towards the end of my shift, I was going around collecting all the glasses from the tables. I reached forward and picked up the glass sitting in front of an unhappy-looking granny figure.

Her head snapped up, and she started shouting that she hadn’t finished her drink. When I offered it back to her, she complained that I had touched it with my fingers, so I offered to get her another glass of red. She agreed. So I brought it over and set it down in front of her, smiling amicably. 

But no smile could appease her—she started shouting again, this time that I had taken too long to get her drink and that she wanted to talk to my supervisor.

I walked around to look for one, but they were all busy working. Hence, I came back and told her that they would come and see her as soon as they could. Without a word of warning, the old woman threw the contents of her glass at me.


Accidental Tip


I was waitressing at a bar in Philly. I had a couple of patrons extremely upset with me because they didn’t eat their wings fast enough after they came out, so some were cold by the time they got to them.

Wings were $0.50 that night. They demanded a refund for this inconvenience, which I obviously told them, unfortunately, I could not provide them with. But karma got them in the end.

They accidentally tipped me. I found $5 on the table after they had left, so I took it. They came back looking for it. I never felt an ounce of guilt for not helping them search for it.


Not Even a Thank You


I was waiting on a couple at the steak restaurant where I worked. Suddenly, the man stood up and held his throat. He was obviously choking. He started turning different colors and was in need of help.

I began giving him the Heimlich maneuver, and after several tries, some steak popped out and the man could breathe again. It was a big spectacle. The customers and wait staff were shaken for a couple of minutes.

Without even saying thank you, the wife of the choking man asked me to box up the uneaten portion of their meals. But it gets worse—there was a crust of Texas toast left on the plate that I didn’t remember to include in their to-go box. The woman yelled at me for not including it and did not leave a tip.


Banned For a Week


I was working in an indie model/wargame/TCG shop. A group of kids around 13 years old turn up after school to play Yu-Gi-Oh inside. As their game drags on, one kid asks us where the toilets are.

We direct him to the bus station, but he complains about the 30-second walk. He remains playing. Suddenly, we hear laughter from this kid and a pool of moisture forming down his trouser leg and onto our carpet.

My boss and I stare in utter disbelief as this kid shakes his leg, and remains playing his card game. Boss goes crazy and forces the kid to clean the carpet before banning him for a week. Kid returns next week to the nickname Wazzers.


Are You Guys Done Yet?


I worked at a popular restaurant. During dinner service, we usually had 30-40 minute long wait times. People were told about this by the hosts. There was this lady who got fed up with the wait after 10 minutes.

She stormed into the restaurant, stood next to a table of four people, and literally asked them, “Are you guys done? We’ve been waiting for a long time now and would like to have the table if you guys are just chatting.”


They're Just Wired Better


I used to fix computers for faculty members at my local university. One day, I went to the Women’s Studies department to fix some minor hardware issues.

The female professor I encountered actually asked me, “Is there maybe a guy that can come instead? Nothing personal; they’re just wired better for this kind of work.” I returned to my office and sent the least competent guy that we had.



10 Items or Less


I used to work at Home Depot over the summer as a cashier. The very best was the woman who came up to my line with a cart that had only a single small box of nails. Odd, I thought, but maybe she just didn’t find what she needed the cart for.

So I ring her up and she says, “Well what about the rest of my order? I need 800 lbs of Quickcrete, 50 10′ 2x4s, ten 8′ 4x4s…” She starts reading off all of the ingredients she needs to make a massive deck, or a dock, or something.

She then asks me sweetly if I’ll help her get them while she waits in line, holding up the 10 people behind her while I pull an entire back yard’s worth of lumber and concrete out for her.

I told her we couldn’t do that, and gave her the number to call to have her order pulled. She freaked out. Spent about 20 minutes screaming at me, even after I called the head cashier and had him handle her.

See, she would run over to my lane while I was with other customers to tell me how “unprofessional” I was being, and that this is why everyone goes to Lowe’s nowadays, because there they care about the customer.


You're Not Buying Anything Today


I work at Best Buy in the warehouse, and we cover breaks for the guys working the cameras up front. A co-worker was covering a break when this guy came up to one of the front lane registers. There was a bit of a line and we only had two lanes open. One of the front lane guys is handicapped.

It doesn’t affect his job, it just takes him longer to walk around. The customer finally made his way to the front of the line and paid with a credit card. The front lane rep needed to see the last 4 digits of the credit card and asked to see his card “real quick.” 

The customer FLIPPED OUT. He said, “Oh NOW you want to do something real quick.” Then he muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear: “I should have known not to get in the short bus line.”

My co-worker who was observing the cameras saw everything and was not very happy. He walked up to the customer, grabbed all his merchandise, and said, “Nope, you’re not buying anything today. You can leave.” Never been so proud of him.


100% Serious


I was working at the Olive Garden when I had a guest ask me if a particular entree was good or not. I replied that the dish was amazing and one of my favorites on the menu and told them, “Honestly, if you don’t like it, I will pay for it.”

He happily agreed to order it, and later, when I walked past his table, I noticed his plate was completely empty. I asked him how he liked the dish, and he replied he hated it and demanded I uphold my promise from earlier to pay for it. I laughed, thinking he was joking but soon realized he was 100% serious.


No One Deserves to Be Talked to Like That


I was around 18 years old and working in the lumber department at a home improvement chain. I was on the second story rack, standing on the forklift forks and trying to handle a solid-core front door, which was extremely heavy, out of the shelf to bring down to the floor for a customer.

I had it halfway out of the rack, precariously maneuvering it onto the forks when a little old lady walked up.

She asked sweetly, “Excuse me, sir! Can you point me to the plumbing section?” I replied, grunting, because the door was heavy, “One moment, ma’am. Let me get this door down, and I’ll show you.” 

Her response took me by complete surprise: “You idiots never have a product labeled right! I’m tired of this store’s garbage! Way too expensive, too!” I froze, staring at her with my mouth agape.

The original customer I was helping actually put his hands over his son’s ears. She was Jekyll and Hyde personified. Luckily, right when the old biddy started her rant, my manager happened to walk by.

He stopped, walked right up to the lady, and said, “I don’t care who you are, but no one deserves to be talked to like that. Leave the store NOW.” It was perfect timing.


You Didn't Even Have to Call


One of my favorite stories from my brief time in customer service was when a man who called up the night after a minor hurricane started screaming that his service didn’t work.

He said that he had complained multiple times and this was the last straw. Clearly our service sucked, and it was our fault his cable was out. He kept cutting me off and calling me rude names. But I had the perfect response.

Finally, I just interjected: Sir, your cable isn’t out because of an issue with our service, your cable is out because a tree branch fell across the cable line. What’s that? How do I know?

Because I saw the branch fall. I’m the one who went out in the rain last night to get the branch out of the street. In fact, I know you know it’s a branch, because I could see you looking out your window at me moving the branch that fell on your property.

Not only that, but when I was done, I went inside and called into work on my day off to arrange a bucket truck to come out and rerun the cable so you could beat the rush of calls that came in all across the island due to the storm. You didn’t even have to call. A truck is already on route. Well, that shut him up.


Is That a Threat or a Promise?

resizeWealth_of_pennies_-_Flickr_-_r-z-1024x734-1.jpg.optimal.jpgWikimedia Commons / Reza / CC 2.0

When I worked in Domino’s, I had a guy throw a handful of pennies at me while laughing. The 30 odd cents was apparently my tip. He got mad when I turned around and walked away without picking any of them up.

But throwing the pennies wasn’t even the bad part. What he said next made me facepalm. “Oh, my money is not good enough for you? Fine, I’ll never order Domino’s again!”



Too Shocked to Speak


The cash register where we entered the food orders was situated about ten feet away from the bathroom. As I was entering someone’s order, this dude walked out of the bathroom, came up to me, and he did the most disgusting thing—he started wiping his hands on my arm.

“You’re out of paper towels,” he said and walked out of the restaurant. I was so shocked I couldn’t even say anything before he was gone.


Never Saw Her Again


I used to work for a grocery store in high school as a cashier. One busy Saturday, an older lady came through my long line with about $150 worth of groceries.

Among her items was a prepackaged piece of meat from our deli department that is normally priced by weight. Her meat did not have a printed sticker on the package and I would’ve needed to find a bag boy or manager to run to the deli to get it priced.

Because we were super busy, I decided to wing it, and set it on my scale. “Looks like it’s almost a pound, so…let’s say…$2.77? Does that sound fair?” I began to ring it as a miscellaneous item. Her answer sent a shiver through my spine. 

“No it does NOT sound fair!” she yelled in a screeching voice. “You need to get that priced!” Groans from the line began behind her, as I found a bag boy to run to get the price sticker.

A manager came by to see what the commotion was about and the lady explained the situation. I explained why I had made the decision I made. The manager of course stuck up for the lady (which we laughed about later) and she accepted the apology.

We then waited for what seemed like an eternity of eye-contact avoidance and thumb twiddling. The bag boy came back and handed me the pork. I smirked and showed her the price. “$2.78. Huh, I would’ve saved you a penny!” The man behind her chortled. Never saw her again.


I'll Have My Usual


I used to work at a Starbucks right next to a Walmart. One of the Walmart employees would come in for lunch every day. She was in her 60s and was very strange and very demanding.

She always ordered a spinach feta wrap on a plate with cutlery and a tall hot coffee with room for cream. When I would see her, I would say hi and then say her order, and she would reply, “Yes, that’s right.”

Then while I would type it in, she would repeat it very sternly. Then, while I would put it in the oven and get the plate ready, she would tell me again very sternly.

She would repeat her order a few times despite me displaying that I knew what it was. She was always angry and scoffing during the process. The next part of her ritual was somehow even MORE annoying. She would go find a table and rearrange the furniture VERY loudly.

She would drag the metal bottom of a table across the polished concrete floor. Then drag the wood chairs across it as well. Even some customers would offer to help her move them, but she always insisted that she could do it.

So for a solid five minutes every day, everyone in the store just had to listen to thunderous sounds. Next, she would go get her coffee ready at the little bar and make a HUGE mess. She always pulled out a bunch of sugar packets and spilled them everywhere.

Then she would take a load of napkins and come back to the counter without cleaning her mess. She would squeeze in front of whoever was currently being helped and say that we were out of napkins.

Then, she would go have her food and drink, leave the plate and cup there, go into the bathroom and throw all of the napkins on the floor, along with some paper towels as well.

We always had to have someone go clean up after her. She would go back to work and return later. When she returned, she would always complain that she had left her stuff on a table and that it was now gone. We explained that we had cleaned it up and that she could not reserve a table for herself.

She would be furious and demand a free coffee, which she automatically got anyway with her first order. So, I would give her a free refill and she would drag the tables and make a huge mess for us to clean up all over again.


An Awesome Show of Strength


I was the sales manager at an electronics retail store. I was helping out on the sales floor when a young couple came in. The guy was probably about 6’5” and built. They were looking for a new computer, so we started talking about what they were going to use it for.

The guy excused himself to use the restroom, and I kept talking to his wife. Then, a young guy in a business suit came up behind me while I was still talking, grabbed my shoulder, and said, “Excuse me, I need your help.

Do you have ‘Software X’ in stock?” I told him that I didn’t think we did, but that I was in the middle of helping another customer and that he could go check upfront if he was in a hurry.

I turned back and continued speaking with the lady I was helping. About two minutes later, I felt a shock through my body. I felt someone grab my arm from behind me, twist it and start pulling me backward.

The lady I was helping had a horrified look on her face as I got dragged away. I finally spun myself around and realized it was the guy in the business suit dragging me over.

He then grabbed the back of my neck, pushed it forward, and said, “See? You have the software in stock, and it’s right there. I want your manager and I want you fired.”

I was too dumbfounded to speak for a second. Meanwhile, I saw the husband of the lady I had been helping return from the bathroom. He dashed towards me and the customer who had me by the back of the neck.

He grabbed the guy in the business suit by both arms and whipped him around and against the wall. He put one of his massive hands on the guy’s shoulder and pinned him against the wall so he couldn’t move, and with his other hand, he pulled out his badge. It was pretty awesome.


Promoting Immorality


I owned a bed and breakfast in a little southern town. It was a small business— just three rooms in an old farmhouse that was built in 1835. During the off-season, which was late fall through mid-spring, we would give away three-day packages for charity events, such as auctions.

We were never in charge of the money that was collected. A man and his wife booked for a weekend in late March. They showed up on Friday afternoon with their gift certificate from the charity auction, which we gladly accepted.

I greeted them as Mr. and Mrs., to which the guy responded, “It’s PASTOR.”  I proceeded to show them their room, inform them of our policies, and explain that there was going to be another couple arriving that evening.

The next morning, I served both couples breakfast, and after the other couple left, the pastor said to me, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to have more than one couple here at a time. Why did you schedule us both?”

I told him that we were just like a hotel and it couldn’t be expected that we should only take one room at a time. He didn’t like that answer, not one bit. He said he found out the other couple was not married, and he was bothered by the idea that we would promote “immorality.” It got worse.

We had a huge farm with wonderful little gardens and nice spots to sit and enjoy the country. I walked out to the grounds and found the pastor, sitting on a plastic folding chair, right in front of the entrance to the farmhouse.

I wondered about it, but I didn’t say anything. Later that night, the lady of the other couple came to my door and told me that they were leaving because the pastor had blocked their entrance to the house and began to preach to them about being immoral.

I apologized and offered her almost everything I could think of to have her stay. She was lovely and told me that she knew it wasn’t my fault, but that their weekend was ruined. The following day, I was getting breakfast ready, and I saw the pastor putting his luggage in their car.

They had another night left, so I was kind of confused. I walked out the driveway, and I said, “I think maybe there is a miscommunication; you have another night.” He said, “Your air conditioning is broken, so we are leaving.”  I told him that I could check on it since it might just not have been on.

It was still cool out, and, in fact, the heat might have been on. He looked at me and said, “No, it was too hot last night, and YOU should have known that. I want my money back!” For SOME reason, I was still trying to keep the whole thing friendly.

I explained to him that I didn’t receive any money from him, that the certificate he used was from a charity auction, so I am not even sure what he paid, to which he responded,

“Well, I paid $110, and I didn’t pay that to sleep in a hot room next to sinners, so you better write a check.” I told him that I would not be issuing a check since ONE night at our regular rate is $100.

Therefore, his nightly rate was less than a third of that, and I didn’t receive any of that money. I walked back inside and began to shut down, making breakfast. About five minutes later, he came back to the door and he caught me completely off-guard. 

He said, “We’ll be taking our breakfast and my check now.” I explained that I would be happy to put his breakfast in a box, but I was not giving him any money.

They left, and there was a letter in his room to me, telling me that he was going to call his lawyer. Two weeks later, I got a package in the mail with their name on the return address. I was both scared and intrigued to open it.

It was a letter from his wife, whom I didn’t hear more than two words from during their trip. She apologized for her husband’s behavior. She told me she knew I had not done anything wrong, that the room was charming, there was no issue with the heat.

She said that since her husband had become a born-again Christian and an online minister, he had become a complete terror. She included $200 in cash and asked that I not contact her since she was trying to get officially separated from him.


I Can't Do Much, But He Can


I was working at a gas station in a very rich part of town. During a nice summer day, a prime example of the douchebag variety of the human species drove his super-expensive Lamborghini in and, in that haughty, I’m-rich-so-you-must-do-what-I-say voice, demanded that it be filled with premium.

Which the attendant started to do, only the guy immediately snatched the nozzle from him and screamed that “you’re too stupid to do this on your own.”

We’re in Oregon, by the way, where you can’t pump your own gas because of state fire laws. Well, being that he’s a douchebag and an idiot, gas spills out from the nozzle all over his sparkly douche-mobile.

At this point, he truly flips out. He storms into the store, where I’m working as the cashier and de facto manager. He immediately demands to speak to the owner, and that we are going to pay to have his car repainted AND he’s not going to be paying for his gas.

I try my best to calm the situation, but he’s got a good rage going and doesn’t want to be calmed down. While he’s spewing forth, I notice that an officer from the local department is about to come into the store to get snacks or a drink or some such. 

This gives me a nice idea. “Sir, I’m afraid that the gas is in your tank and you pumped it yourself, so you are going to have to pay.”

Cutscene of an explosion. Douchebag then asks, “So what, exactly, do you think you can do if I just go and get in my car and leave?” Thank you, good Lord, for timing. He says this, at full bellow, right as the officer walks through the door. My response?

“Well, personally I can’t do much, but the nice officer standing behind you will probably be able to do something.” Douchebag turns around to see the officer, with a very predatory smile on his face, nodding vigorously. Yeah, he shut up, paid, and we never saw him again.


Broken Glass on the Bar


I was working at a busy bar in a major city. There was one guy who wouldn’t stop pounding his empty glass on the bar, rolling his eyes, and yelling, “I’M EMPTY OVER HERE.”

It was 11 PM on a Saturday night, and the bar was packed, with a line around the block. I told him I would get to him as quickly as I could. About 20 seconds later, I heard him slam his glass on the bar, AGAIN.

I leaned over to tell him if he couldn’t stop mistreating my glassware, I was going to give him a plastic cup. The man proceeded to spit in my face. I was honestly shocked. But don’t worry, he got what he deserved. 

One of my regulars grabbed him by the back of his head and slammed his face into the bar. A melee broke out, and at least 20 of my glasses ended up broken.


Two For the Price of One


One day I was making drinks at the cafe I worked at. A coworker was at the register. We were swamped, so she missed writing down the specific instructions for one of the orders. All I knew was that the customer wanted a small black tea. So I made it and called it out.

The lady very rudely told me she wanted it in two cups. So, I split it up and put it on the counter. She then said she asked for extra hot water in both cups and told me I was terrible at listening to directions.

She was basically asking for two teas for the price of one. I didn’t have time to argue, so I just did it, and put it back on the counter. But she had more crazy left in her. She then spilled it on her hand while picking it up.

She yelled, “Ow!! Why did you do that?” as if I handed it to her myself and intentionally poured it on her. She then proceeded to go on a rant about how she would sue, and I would lose my job.

I was so mad that I started crying. I guess that made her feel bad because she returned after she finished her tea to tell me her hand was okay, so there was no need for any recourse.

She was an insane piece of work that I had to deal with a handful of times. Her brother, who came in with her, would often apologize on her behalf.


Put in an Awkward Situation


I worked at a laser tag center in an indoor amusement park. If we weren’t busy, customers could start a 15-minute session right away. But if we were busy, customers would have to leave their names on a list, and I would tell them when their session would start.

I would call it on the loudspeaker five minutes before it would be scheduled. It was a Saturday mid-day, and the place was packed. A woman had a day-care group of at least 20 kids, and she was the only one watching them. She put her party’s name on the list.

I told her when their session would start. The time came, and she and only about five of the kids showed up. She told me to wait for the rest of the kids to get there. This put me in an awkward situation.

Twenty minutes passed, and the next group was waiting to play. Another ten minutes passed, and there were fewer of the woman’s children there than there were before.

I let the next group in and told her that her group would be the first ones in once they were all together. My manager interrupted the game I was attending to send me home. The woman screamed at me, saying I was discriminating against her. I quit after that.


I'll Find Better Service Elsewhere


I worked at a photo printing lab, and we got people in all the time who claimed we were stupid and had messed up their pictures. One woman had us print 800 vacation pictures. They were bad quality, dark, and out of focus. Basically a nightmare to work with. But that wasn’t all. 

When she came to pick them up, she insisted that we had ruined them, that they were perfect in her camera, and that she had a very expensive camera and so there was no way the pictures could be dark or out of focus.

We finally gave her her money back, even though we had done nothing wrong and were out a lot of time and paper. She called us 30 minutes later and told us she was at a store across town, and they had reprinted all of her pictures and they were beautiful, in focus, and nice and bright.

I had to tell her that the same person who owned our store also owned the store across town, and that not only would it have taken that store several hours to reprint 800 pictures, but their printer was down that day, so they couldn’t have printed anything. She hung up on me.


Buy One Get One


At the pizza shop where I worked, we used to do a “buy one large get one free” deal on Tuesdays. This deal was stackable, so it was always hectic. One week, the deal changed to “any large pie for $15.”

They were generally between $20 and $24. One woman was irate, yelling about how we would lose so much business by not giving out the free pizza.

She said she knew people who couldn’t afford meals but come to us on Tuesdays and that she will now never come back. I smiled, because I knew exactly what was coming. She came back the next week and even pre-ordered.


Senior Discount


I worked in a restaurant that was in a 55+ community. During our busiest night of the week, Thursday night karaoke, I was bussing tables. I was trying to get all the empty glasses because the bar desperately needed them.

When I grabbed a clearly empty glass from in front of a woman, she pierced my hand with a fork. It drew blood. She yelled, “I’m not done with that!” Mind you, the only thing left in this glass was a droplet at the bottom that had dried up.


The Kids Were More Polite Than Their Parents


In high school, I worked as a waitress at a pizza place. The manager would hire mentally challenged people to wash dishes and bus tables during the weekends. One weekend, we were swamped, and things were getting a bit crazy. A woman with four or five kids was sitting close to the waitress station.

It wasn’t my table, but I could tell she looked angry. One of the mentally challenged workers was busing tables and walked by her. The woman grabbed the worker’s arm and swung her around. She yelled at her for not bringing out the appetizer or something.

I walked over to the woman, told her that the woman was not one of the wait staff members, and asked what I could get for her. Her reaction shocked me. She then got out of her chair, called the worker a name, and walked off. I was speechless. I felt horrible.

I don’t think the woman knew what she had just said. Then one of the woman’s children told me, “Sorry about my mommy. She is mean.” I told her, “It’s not your fault,” and patted her on the head.

The woman came back, grabbed her kids and coat, and left. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a chance to tell the woman that her daughter was more grown-up than she was.


My Heart Skipped a Beat


I was working at McDonald’s, and during one of my first days there, an old man and his granddaughter came through my line. He wanted a Big Mac without this and with extra that. I was just learning the register, so I had him repeat the order several times.

I apologized constantly and I could feel the sweat gathering at my brow. He started mumbling, “Idiot,” and, “What a bunch of morons they have working here,” as I fumbled for the right keys. He finally got his sandwich, and they went to eat.

A while later, the granddaughter appeared in my line, and my heart skipped a beat because I thought I would have to deal with her grandpa again. She said, “I wanted to apologize for my grandpa’s behavior.” It makes me mad that she felt responsible for the old man’s bad manners.


The Owner Would Never Stand For This!


I used to work at a restaurant chain that started about 15 or 20 years back and has about 15 stores in total. People all the time would complain and release their vague threat “I know Tommy! (The owner, guy who started the chain)

Do I have to call him to get some good service?” It came from so many people, but we had to put up with it because that’s what you do in the restaurant business. But one time when this happened, Tommy was actually in the restaurant.

He would come in once every couple months or so and just act like a regular customer, just to kinda evaluate how things were running from a non-owner perspective (of course everything magically went smoother for him than any other customer, imagine that).

Anyway, this lady (that had been a total witch the entire night) starts complaining, talking about how her meal was cold or bad or whatever, even though she had powered through 4/5ths of it.

She wants her money back for this atrocity! And then she drops the bombshell. I know Tommy! He wouldn’t stand for this!” The only thing was, Tommy was sitting almost directly behind her, and pretty obviously didn’t know her, and she didn’t recognize him.

After getting a bit of the old discreet “Go ahead” nod from him, I just said, “Ma’am, Tommy is in the restaurant right now. If you could just point him out I’d be glad to let him know what you think of his restaurants.”

She stammered, gave the, “No he’s not, I would’ve seen him!” until the owner stood up and said hello. He put on the kind of sickly sweet personality, where you’re ever so polite but a total dick at the same time. She shut up and paid pretty quickly after that.


The Food Isn't Authentic


I worked at a local Italian restaurant, and one night, I had a couple that came in, seated themselves, then demanded their menus. I was leery. When I came over, the man told me how he was from Italy, and he had already noticed that the carbonara wasn’t made like REAL carbonara.

Apparently, authentic carbonara has four types of cheeses on it. Cue my eye roll—but he was just getting started.

He made me check with the kitchen to see if they could make it the real way, which they couldn’t. However, he still decided to get it, knowing he wouldn’t like it.

At that point, I knew that I was going to get a lousy tip because he ordered something he wasn’t going to like. I got them their complimentary bread, and he complained that it wasn’t hot enough, so I had the chef pop it in the pizza oven.

The dude still wasn’t happy with it, so I had to wait for the kitchen to prepare fresh bread, and, in the end, he barely ate any of it. Without any surprise, he hated the carbonara, and he, of course, chewed me out over it.

He told me how disappointing he thought our restaurant was and how he would have to drive back home to Miami unhappy. I comped his bill, apologized, and told him I hoped the rest of his night went well. His wife sheepishly smiled at me, and they left no tip.


Suspended For Two Weeks


We were cleaning up after a wedding reception at our facility, and I had begun the cleaning process on our espresso machine. The party had been over for almost a half-hour. The cleaning process takes 12 minutes.

People were still milling about as the party slowly let out, and the bride’s father asked me for an espresso. Since we had a strict policy of always trying to satisfy a guest’s needs, I told him I could get it to him, but the machine was cleaning, and it would be done in about 10 minutes.

He began ranting about how much he paid for the wedding and stormed to our banquet managers. He told them I refused to make it for him. The manager started tearing into me.

I showed both of them that the machine was just finishing the cleaning process, and it was impossible to make it beforehand. I got suspended for two weeks.


The Musician And His Entourage


I was working as a valet and bellman for a lower-end hotel. One night, LL Cool J was playing at the club down the street and staying at the hotel for a night. I was working the mid-shift when he and his entourage returned in a limo.

One of the women from his group came up to me and explained that her husband was wasted. She told me that he would probably come down sometime later and try to drive. LL’s group had left, so I asked for her last name so I would know who he was if he came down.

She told me her last name and said that her husband was one of LL’s bodyguards. I said okay, figuring he wouldn’t come down. A few hours passed and I had nearly forgotten about it when the biggest man I had ever seen came stumbling through the lobby.

As soon as he opened the front doors, he screamed, “HEY, VALET.” He stumbled over and shoved his ticket in my face. He exclaimed he really needed his car, but I looked at his ticket to confirm that it was the right guy.

Not wanting to risk getting stomped into the ground by telling him that he was too trashed to drive, I took his keys and ran towards the parking lot. That’s when things started to get heated.

I looped back around through the bushes to a house phone on the side of the hotel and called security. I could see him through the bushes getting angry that it was taking so long.

He started walking toward the valet lot, screaming,  “VAAALET, HEY VAAALET!” I looped back around and met him. I apologized and told him that I thought his car was in the other lot. He cursed at me and told me to give him the keys.

I told him to wait and that I would have it right up. He was having none of it and he came after me, missing my shirt by only a few inches and almost falling on his face.

I ran toward the valet desk while he gave chase. Luckily, I was able to make it around the other side of the desk. We then proceeded to play ring around the Rosie while he swatted at me across the desk with his five-foot-long arms.

Finally, the head of security showed up alone, and his eyes popped out of his head when he saw what was going on. He passed some code on the radio to call the authorities and managed to calm the guy down a little bit.

The guy argued with security for a few minutes while lunging at me for his keys every so often. Law enforcement finally came screaming in, and the guy bolted for the door and the elevators.

The two officers were no match for the guy. He threw one of them to the ground while they tried to cuff him. While the one man was down, the elevator door opened, and he got in while the other officer drew his taser.

Four more officers showed up while the one with the taser yelled something at the guy in the elevator. He then lit him up, and then I heard a thud.

I saw the guy’s feet kicking out the end of the elevator. All the officers stormed in, cuffed him, and dragged him out. They struggled to carry him.

While carried out to the cruiser, he saw me sitting at the valet desk with his keys still in hand and cursed at me as he was stuffed into the back seat. I just smiled at him until they drove away.


He Got What He Deserved


I was a thin, young woman working at a small beach restaurant when I was in college. I had a customer punch me in the chest because the restaurant was crowded. He said his dinner took too long to get to him.

I went down like a ton of bricks, dropped the tray of food I was carrying, and wiped out a whole table that some other family was sitting at. It happened so fast I didn’t know what was going on. 

It was bad, but he got what he deserved back—several male customers charged the guy and threw him against a wall. He was taken into custody.


Can Women Be Managers?


A family of four came in, and the dad started slamming drinks. He probably had four or five before they got their appetizers. The couple was a little rough around the edges in general—loud, blunt, and without good manners.

The two daughters, who were about eight and ten, were quiet, though…and I could quickly see why. As the dad got more and more intoxicated, he was really touchy with the girls. He made them sit on his lap, etc. They were visibly uncomfortable. I felt so terrible for them.

I brought out one of the appetizer dishes, but the other one took a little longer to cook. I had alerted them of that when they ordered. The dad got angry, saying that the appetizers needed to come out together.

The dad started yelling at me, pointing at me, and calling me a terrible server while the daughters and their mom stared at their laps. He asked to see my manager, so I went to get her.

She came out to talk to the guy.  He was furious that there wasn’t a “male boss” available. He was spewing gems like, “Are you kidding? I need to speak with a man about this. You’re telling me that the only manager here is her?” I had never dealt with such an insulting, crude person before.


How Could You Work on a Sunday?


I worked in a restaurant. On multiple occasions, I served a Sunday post-church brunch crowd and they told me the most peculiar thing—apparently, I was going to rot in heck for working on a Sunday.

The funny thing was that it never occurred to them that I wouldn’t HAVE to work on Sunday if not for them coming in to eat. Not only that, but they would proceed to leave me Bible tracts instead of money as tips.


We Don't Use Any Milk


I worked at a concession stand for a children’s baseball park. It’s a large park (nine or so fields) and we get lots and lots of customers. Having lots of customers, we have to make things in large quantities and the quality isn’t especially swell.

But hey, it’s a concession stand, not a restaurant. Anyhow, it’s about 20 degrees out and people are ordering hot chocolate by about five cups at a time.

Only two of us are working. The process for making hot chocolate is putting an extremely large container of water in our extremely large microwave, and then stirring in an extremely large amount of cocoa powder.

It’s nothing fancy, but it tasted pretty good all things considered. Late in the day, I was working the register, and my co-worker is running around making everything.

A lady came up to the side window, screaming at my co-worker about how he’s ruining the hot chocolate. My co-worker can’t hear her, seeing as how she’s yelling through a window.

At a guy working around a lot of refrigerator fans, among other things. She finally comes to the front counter and tells me he’s ruining it. “Why” I asked. Her: “He’s going to ruin the milk! He’s going to ruin it in the microwave!”

Me: “There is no…” Her: “HES GOING TO RUIN IT!” Me: “Peter!” Co-Worker: “Yeah?” Me (pretending to get super angry) “DON’T RUIN THAT MILK!” Her: *stares at me*

Co-Worker: “What milk?” Me (still yelling): “THE HOT CHOCOLATE MILK!” Co-Worker (comes up to the front looking VERY confused): “There is no milk!” Me (to the lady): “Hmm. I suppose we don’t use any milk.” She left looking very scared to talk to us ever again.


All You Can Eat


I worked at a local chicken joint. To help drum up business, my boss made an “all you can eat” deal. The only stipulation was you couldn’t order one all-you-can-eat for multiple people.

It was reasonable enough, and often it wasn’t an issue. However, one evening as we were near closing, a couple of guys wandered in, and one of them ordered this all-you-can-eat deal. He started sharing it with his friend, and we told him that he couldn’t do that.

Since we were getting ready to close anyway, my manager told him that we wouldn’t cook anymore for him because of it, but rather than throw out what we had already cooked, he could just have that.

The guy had a tantrum and threw the food across the entirety of the restaurant once we turned our backs. There were french fries and ketchup everywhere. However, he kept the chicken though. Not only that, but the next morning we found that the restaurant’s windows had been vandalized.


She Was Mortified


I was at a family restaurant. Everyone was ordering the special that day, so they ran out of an ingredient for the dish. There was a customer complaining to the waiter as if it was HIS fault this happened.

Then as my family and I were about to pay our bill and leave, that same woman yelled out to me, “You would be handsome if you weren’t so fat!” Her daughter was even mortified and actually called her out on it.


As If He Was Never There


I had a family come in for their daughter’s birthday with a handful of her friends. They ordered a round of drinks that I promptly brought to the table. When I gave the father his pint, he requested that I bring his drink back in a frosted mug, not a frosted pint glass.

I informed him we didn’t have any mugs in the house, which sent him into a rage. He called me a liar, flipped the table—breaking several of the gifts, and punched the wall on the way out. This left me, the family, and all of the patrons in a state of shock. 

The daughter started to cry, and the mother apologized profusely. She said they would pay for the drinks and leave. I tried to be as graceful as possible and suggested they stay as it was still the daughter’s birthday.

I got someone to bring fresh drinks, got help cleaning up the mess, and took their orders. I told the kitchen and management what happened, and everybody pitched in to make the evening better.

Their meals were comped, and I made a dessert bonanza for the daughter. By the end of the meal, it was as if the father was never there.


No Tip For You!


I was working at a sub sandwich shop with my manager. We had just finished cleaning everything up, and my manager had his hand on the door lock when a woman desperately came running to the door screaming, “WAIT! WAAAAAAAAAIT!” 

My manager gave me the most “Oh God, I’m SO sorry” look and let her in. We proceeded to unwrap ALL of the sandwich-making material.

This involved pulling plastic wrap off of EVERYTHING, re-filling sanitation sinks to wash any dishes we dirty, and basically having to completely re-do all of our closing procedures.

The woman ordered somewhere in the neighborhood of 10 sandwiches for ten different people. It sounded as if it was for a party because for each separate sandwich, she had to talk to a different person.

She was shouting into her cell phone and breaking into random bits of other conversation while my manager and I were sitting there trying to get information from her on what to put on the sandwiches.

We got her sandwiches done about 25 minutes later and waited for another 10 minutes for her to finish her phone call and come up to the register to pay. But it gets even worse.

She only had a $100 bill, for which we didn’t have proper change. She became exasperated, flustered that she had to use her credit card.

Finally, we got everything sorted out, and she gathered up her sandwiches, looked at the clock overhead, and said in the most condescending voice I’ve ever heard, “Don’t you think you guys could have made my sandwiches a bit quicker?

“Now I’ve missed 10 minutes of my TV show! No tip for you!” She then walked out the door. It took us another 20 minutes or so to re-do all of our closing procedures.

My manager felt so bad about being the one who let her in that he gave me the full share of the evening’s tip, which was usually split 50/50. Still, people like that lady make me SO GLAD I don’t work in food service anymore.


Family-Owned Gas Station


I used to work in an old family-owned gas station/garage in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Since it was family owned, about 90% of the business came from regulars who had either business accounts or got their families’ cars fixed at the shop (and had for generations on both sides).

As such, the random passers-by getting gas on their way to and from cities on either side of the town made up a mostly negligible amount of business.

The gas station side of the business made up maybe 2% of the business, and of that maybe .5% was non-regulars. So my boss couldn’t care less about some of the annoying customers who came in. One day we got a particularly witchy soccer mom.

This was during the summer a few years ago, so the gas was very high compared to the rest of the year. She was convinced that our pumps were purposely calibrated incorrectly so that less gas was pumped. Her proof was that she always got $XX.XX in gas and it always went to XX% full.

Well we had just had our equipment recalibrated for the year and knew it was all good. She kept complaining to me about it, and being a high schooler I didn’t care, either.

But I kept up appearances and was polite, kept telling her that we had just had our pumps calibrated. She didn’t care and kept complaining. Eventually she asked for the manager. But I knew something she didn’t. 

The office was right behind the counter, and my boss was in there listening the whole time. As soon as she asked for him, he simply yelled out “SCREW OFF!” And that was about it.

I just shrugged at her, and she left. My boss was awesome with jerk customers.


Precious Employees


I worked at a library. The post office was down the street and around the corner, about three blocks away. A lady waltzed into the library with that angry “Karen” face and haircut and slammed her pointer finger on the table.

She said, “I JUST called and was told the post office was open. I drove all the way down here, and it’s closed. WHY was I told it was open if you’re just going to close after you hang up?”

I had a dumbfounded expression on my face. I had no idea who this woman was or why she was shouting at me. I responded, “They must have closed early, but ma’am, you never called here. This is the library.”

That was a huge mistake. She said, “I JUST CALLED. I know it was you I spoke to. I just had to dress a screaming two-year-old and drag her into the car, so I could get my mail, and you lied.”

I knew I was in big trouble because my boss was in the other room, and she always wanted the patrons to be pleased. I went and got my boss anyway, so I had a quick chance to tell my side of the story first.

Shockingly, my boss took my side instantly and screamed at the woman for yelling at her “precious employees.” The lady fell silent and stomped away like a mad toddler. I was a happy librarian that day.



resize1280px-SUBWAY%C2%AE_-_panoramio_5-1024x626-1.jpg.optimal.jpgWikimedia Commons / Corey Coyle

I was working at Subway. One night we were running out of spinach. A guy dressed as a cowboy came in and ordered a foot-long. We got to the spinach, and the cowboy said, “I want a lot of spinach.”

We were only supposed to put pinches on anyways, but this guy was used to me giving extra when my manager wasn’t around because I roll that way, but not today. He demanded, “You’re gonna give me more than that.”

I replied, “We’re running out of spinach today,” knowing a boomer tantrum was brewing. “Give me more,” he said, so I gave him pinches, but he wanted handfuls. The cowboy demanded, “I NEED MORE SPINACH THAN THAT, BOY.” I told him again, “Sir, we’re running out of spinach.”

He said, “DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I COME HERE AND THEY GIVE ME ALL THE SPINACH I WANT.” I told him, “Yeah, but other customers are gonna want spinach tonight, though.” He went on saying, “I’ve been coming here for years even though your prices keep going up. Why do the prices keep going up?”

I told him I was just the cashier and didn’t know. He told me I talked him out of a sale and asked for my manager’s number. I gave him mine. He left a message, and I just texted him back, “Yeehaw.”


He Ruined His Life Over Nuggets

resize14334518830_cb65613784_b-768x512-1.jpg.optimal.jpgFlickr / CC 2.0

I worked as a manager at a McDonald’s. I was pretty easygoing when it came to mess-ups and credits. If you said we messed up, I would replace it.

Nearing the end of my shift one day, this dude came walking in, yelling and cursing at me. He clapped at me and told me he wanted his darn kids meal. I finally had enough and said I would give him his money back for the nuggets and half the food he had just spewed out all over me and the counter.

He yelled at me that he wanted his nuggets. I gave them to him and told him to have a nice day, and he threatened to beat me up. A regular in the restaurant called the authorities, and they took the guy in for public intoxication and endangering the welfare of a minor.

The guy ruined his life over some nuggets, which I would have given him for free if he wasn’t being so difficult and rude.


Unusual Customer


I worked in a cafe on the Jersey Shore during the summer.  A nice-looking woman, who was obviously one of the “summer people,” came in and asked me about our sandwiches.

She wanted to know if they were paninis. I told her that we press them on a panini grill, but the bread is just sub bread, not the kind generally used for a panini.

She asked, “So, it’s like a panini?” I said yes…but when she got her sandwich, she surprised me with her next move. She opened it up and threw it at me.

She started screaming to speak to a manager. When he came out, she told him that I had lied to her and told her it was a panini, and she refused to pay and wanted me fired. The manager just quietly told her to get out of his store.


Awkward Encounters


I used to work at an ice cream shop that gave away free samples on little spoons. I would usually scoop a little of the desired flavor and hand the spoon to the customer. 

Some freaks, however, took it to another level—they would eat the ice cream off the spoon while I was still holding it. It was as if they were babies and I was feeding it to them! It didn’t bother me when kids would do it, but when grown men would, it was just awkward.


Act Accordingly


A customer was smoking in a supermarket, and a staff member asked them to stop. They refuse to stop. Customer escalates to me, as customer service manager at the time.

I grabbed a fire extinguisher (large, CO2), walked up to the customer, and said “If you don’t put that out now, I will be forced to assume you’re on fire and act accordingly.” Customer dropped the smoke, stamped it out with her foot, and left the store.


Private Party


Our bar was having a private party. A tipsy dude, who came in every so often, walked in and ordered a drink. I knew he wasn’t with the party based on his attire.

I told him I couldn’t get him a drink because we were hosting a private affair, and he lost his mind. He cursed at me and told me he wanted to fight me. On his way out, as he walked by the signs on the door saying we were closed for a private event, he yelled that we should put up signs.


Disruptive Group


I worked in a place that was frequented by local families and youth sports teams. On Sundays, this one large group of people would always come in, and they were the worst. The parents drank and ignored their preteens, who ran around playing games in the entire restaurant, disrupting everyone else.

They once tried to walk in a party of 45 people when we were booked solid and got mad that there wasn’t enough space for them. They would also try to modify everything and leave no tip.


We'll Split the Bill


I was a server at Friendly’s when I was in high school. I worked all night once for a whole soccer team and their parents, who came in without any notice. At the end of the night, they wanted everything split up. I almost laughed in their face. 

The kids were sitting at different tables so trying to get the right kids’ food to the correct parent was nearly impossible. Not to mention, some kids split meals or got specialty drinks, ice cream, and appetizers.

Some parents were trying to tell me what their kid ordered, while others were just saying, “Whatever the blonde kid with the headband ordered,” etc.

About half of them had coupons that they were all switching around with each other, some of which were expired, but they wanted to use them because they were “spending so much money.”

A considerable portion of the bill had to be comped because no one would claim a bunch of items. I had to reprint checks about ten times because no one wanted to pay an extra $2 on a milkshake they said their kid didn’t order. 

By that point, I started crying. My manager was yelling at me over what a fiasco it was, and mad because the kids had been drawing on the tables and throwing crayons at other customers over the partition.

I finally came back out to hopefully get everyone paid up when one of the dads had the audacity to tell me to “Not look so stressed out. It’s just Friendly’s.”

They then left me a $15 tip in total for the three hours I waited on them with a bill that was over $400. A lot of them tipped on the coupon price instead of the ACTUAL cost, and some just left whatever change was leftover.


He Didn't Order Any Soup


I used to work at a cafe that had this spinach salad with a hot bacon dressing. The dressing was repulsive. It came in a giant tub, and it looked like a spicy, greasy gel that we put in the microwave for about two minutes until it had a nice film on top.

Then we would give it to the customer in this side monkey bowl, and they would pour it on their salad. One day, this HUGE GUY came in and sat at one of my tables. He ordered three cokes off the bat and the spinach salad with hot bacon dressing.

I was pretty busy with other tables, so I tried to economize my time by running his dressing over a minute before the cook put his salad in the window. When I swung back to drop off the salad, I noticed the dressing bowl was empty.

I just put the salad down and didn’t say anything. As I was walking away, his face turned tomato red. He screamed out loud to me in full volume, “Waitress, where is my dressing?!” I walked back over to him, and I just said, “Sir, you ate it.”

He retorted, “I thought that was my soup!!” I told him he didn’t order any soup. He was so angry he was turning red. He screamed, “Well, bring me extra for my salad.” I brought it out and later saw him drinking it like soup again.


Have Fun Cleaning That Up


I used to work at a roadhouse grill in Texas, and we kept full buckets of peanuts on the tables. One night, a family came in five minutes after closing, and my manager sat them in my section. I was okay with it, but I had already swept up the peanuts and cleaned my tables.

So, I told them, “I hope y’all don’t mind, but I’ve already swept the peanuts.” The guy flipped out and yelled, “What do you mean we ain’t getting no darn peanuts? Why do you think we come to this hole?” To avoid confrontation, I said, “It’s not a big deal,” but he’d make me soon regret it. 

He then replied angrily, “You’re darn right it’s not.” As I walked away, he said, “And bring some of them darn buttered rolls while you’re at it.” The night went on like this until he paid but not before he went off on a tangent about what a terrible server I was.

He even went as far as to call me a name. On his way out, he dumped the bucket on the floor, scraped the peanuts over the floor with his feet, cursed at me, and said, “Have fun cleaning that up.” Easily the worst guest I ever served.


We Weren't Even Mad


Used to work in a pawnshop. We got lots of jewelry in and a lot of times the person bringing in the jewelry would have no idea that some of their stuff was fake. Nine times out of ten they would get angry and leave their stuff with us to be thrown out.

My co-worker accidentally left a really gawdy but fake gold chain out on the desk one day. A customer came in, noticed the chain, and told us that we’d better put it away before someone took it.

I was about to. Then I realized I could have some fun. We ended up leaving the chain on the desk and would casually watch people as they came in to do business. Indeed, we caught a number of people trying to lift the chain.

One guy in particular was talking us up and gradually pulling the chain off the counter. When he had successfully pocketed it and left the store, my co-worker and I began to crack up.

Sure enough, about a week later the guy came back in with the chain and tried to sell it to us. When I refused to buy it, he got angry. Then we showed him the security cam footage of him taking it.

We weren’t even mad. Someone that dumb deserves to live his life that way until he walks out in front of a bus or into a wood chipper.


We Could Only Stare


It was the middle of summer. A lady from the real estate agency next door ordered a chicken box, then proceeded to drive an hour to her next showing.

The order probably stayed right in front of her AC unit in the passenger seat during the drive, so it obviously got cold. Upon her shocking discovery that food doesn’t stay warm, she called us screaming that we tried to kill her.

My boss agreed to give her a new free meal when she came back. She came to get her free food. Things somehow got even worse. One of our chefs came to collect her cold food. While still in front of the window, he opened the box and fished out the uneaten biscuit.

He threw the rest away but walked away with the bread. I presume he meant to eat it. The woman then started screaming about how we were “recycling” food, that she was good friends with the health inspector, and that she was going to see us in court.

The histrionics brought my boss out of his office, and after chewing out the idiot chef, he tried to smooth things over. She wouldn’t move forward in line, and the line was piling up.

My boss was starting to get annoyed. Her hot, fresh meal came up, and he went to hand-deliver it and tell her to get out of the line. Suddenly, our food runner let out a gasp and looked up to see a box of steaming hot chicken come sailing through the window and scatter across the front of the place.

My boss barely stepped back in time. We could only stare as the crazy lady roared out of the parking lot.


A Rude Goodbye

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I was bartending at a restaurant. There was a private party, and one of the guests asked me to plug in his iPhone to listen to a song—no big deal. I did, and he tipped me $20. He left his phone behind the bar and got trashed.

When he was leaving, I said, “Sir, don’t forget about your phone!” He proceeded to throw a drink at me and told me to leave him alone and get a real job.


Watch Your Back!


A well-dressed older man and his family came in for lunch on a Sunday morning. It was evident that they had just gotten out of the church. I heard yelling, and I asked if I could help since I was both the cook and the manager. He said, “I want to speak to your manager!”

I told him, “You’re looking at him. What can I do for you?” He pointed to the waitress and said, “This hussy here is giving me lip and COLD FRIES. I want to speak to your MANAGER!” Apparently, I was too young-looking to be anyone important, so he just blew his top and threatened me.

He told me, “I’m going to make you wish you’d never been born. You’d better watch your back!” I had my waitress call the authorities and throw him out.


Finally Satisfied


I was working at Wendy’s during lunch hour. Usually, I would be on grill or fry duty, but I was on sandwiches this time, which was not my strong suit. An aggressive young businesswoman ordered a junior burger with onions, pickles, and mustard.

I made it and was about to put it in the bag when she told me I had made it wrong. I repeated what she ordered and told her that was what I had made. She told me that I had made something different.

I was about to argue with her when my supervisor walked by and stopped me in my tracks. He tossed my sandwich in the trash and rapidly made an identical sandwich. The lady was now finally satisfied.


Don't Blame the Car


A customer wanted to return a computer that was about a year old when I worked in retail. I asked him what was wrong. “It just don’t work.” I powered it on, it gets into Windows, connects to the wireless network, goes online.

I open Office, everything seems to be working properly. I show it to him, ask him what’s wrong. “It just don’t work.” I asked him what was actually wrong with the machine (let alone why would you return a computer a year later).

“It just don’t work. Are you saying if a car don’t start, it works fine?” At this point I had enough of the guy: “No sir, I’m saying if there was a car and everyone could start it except one person, I wouldn’t blame the car.”


Are You Hiring?


I had a guy who was a germaphobe and had really bad OCD. He had come through before, and my coworker didn’t want to deal with him. So, I went to the drive-thru window after washing my hands. 

Biggest mistake of my life. I cashed out the order that was on the screen, he reluctantly handed over his card, and I gave him his coffee. He started yelling at me, saying that it was wrong.

Apparently, the person who took the order forgot to type it in. He started yelling at the coworker that didn’t want to take his order at the window.

Instead of just saying that it was the wrong order, getting refunded, and being on his way, he stayed in the driveway for 20 minutes, telling my coworker that she was stupid, unprofessional, and unfit to be a supervisor.

He kept demanding that we get the phone number of our franchise owner, but apparently, the number was wrong, and he kept yelling at us. About a month later, he called the store to apologize, and the manager made sure that my coworker never dealt with him again.

He was told he could come in as long as he didn’t make a scene. He spent three hours on the phone with the manager, and at the end of the phone call, he asked if we were hiring.


I'm Not Waiting!


I worked at a bakery and had to deal with the most HEINOUS and rude customers ever. One day one of our staff members quit by text message five minutes before her shift and 30 minutes before we were set to open at 8 AM on a Saturday.

We were hard-pressed finding someone to cover, so I was alone until someone else was able to come in, about an hour later. I had one of the kitchen staff helping me, and all they could do was grab things and bag them as they weren’t trained on cash or coffee.

So here I was running around trying to help customers, make coffees, ring people through—I was clearly stressed. This man was clearly annoyed that he had to wait, huffing and puffing, and eventually loudly exclaimed,

“Forget this. I’m not waiting for this garbage,” and proceeded to throw his bagged muffin at my head and storm out.


I Never Did Food Service Again


I was called into work one day because they were busy and needed help, so I went in the clothes I was wearing at home. When I arrived, they handed me a fistful of tickets for people who needed drinks and ice cream.

I immediately started drilling through the list, getting everything as fast as possible so I could return home. I took a set of shakes out to a family, and upon giving one customer the shake she asked for, she threw a fit and totally raged.

She pulled the lid off the cup and threw the shake all over me. I had caramel, hot fudge, milk, and ice cream all over me. I never did food service ever again after that.


You Win!


I managed an upscale steakhouse in a resort town. This couple, who had been there before and always caused trouble, walked in. We sat them at a table, but no one wanted to wait on them.

I put up an offer to my staff to try and entice them, and my best waiter took the deal. The meal seemed to go without a hitch. The waiter dropped the check, picked up the credit card, and a few minutes later ran it. The couple signed off and left.

The waiter showed me the credit card receipt. Above the signature line, where it says, “Tip”, the guy wrote a rather rude statement, and it was completely uncalled for. “YO MAMA!”

I congratulated him on doing such a good job with such a lousy customer. I took a copy of the receipt, framed it, and hung it on the office door with a note that said, “Congrats, Steven! You win the Biggest Idiotic Customer Award!”

A week later, the couple came back. They put their name on the list and had a seat at the bar. The bartender, who was a BIG guy, came back and informed me of their presence.

I told him to let them know that they were not welcome at our restaurant in no uncertain terms and to get their butts out now. I watched as he told them. The guy turned two shades lighter while his wife got a look of shock on her face. They walked out and were never seen again.


She Got Her Money's Worth

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I was eating at a Taco Bell once, and I was waiting to ask for some sauce while another customer was yelling at a kitchen employee.

She had pulled apart her burrito and was complaining that there wasn’t enough stuff in it. I shut her up with one sentence. I leaned over and said, “looks like 89 cents worth of food to me!” She stormed out.


Professionally Challenged


I had a man and his wife come in during a hectic lunch rush. He was rude off the bat, interrupting me, and not wanting to listen to me speak. He was very adamant that he wanted both chips and salsa and a plate of roasted wings as appetizers.

He kept emphasizing that he wanted them together before they ordered their lunch. Even though chips and salsa only take a minute and wings take about 12, I rang them in together because of how he ordered them.

Three minutes later, the man was waving at my coworker across the restaurant, yelling at her about how they had been there for thirty minutes, his appetizer was taking too long, and he wanted it before his wings.

I was at a party table, so she ran back and grabbed the chips and the wings, which were somehow up as well, and brought them out. He took one bite of a wing—and his reaction was beyond horrible. He tossed the plate like a frisbee across the table at her and started complaining about them being cold.

I rushed over to see what was going on, and he started yelling at me, saying his food was awful and this was the worst service he had ever gotten in his life. I don’t do well with grown men yelling at me, so I went to the kitchen and got my manager.

He came out and, thankfully, had my back as much as he could and made the guy pay for the wings and the chips, then leave. After he left, I started to clean the table where I found the single penny he tipped me with, which my coworker promptly threw in the trash.

I then got a call from my general manager asking why a man had called me “professionally challenged” on Yelp.


Banned For Life


I used to manage a restaurant and had entitled customers who would leave without paying because “the waitresses didn’t come to pick up my money.” Once, it was a family of four who left the restaurant during a busy evening.

We realized that the bill hadn’t been paid after some 10 minutes had passed. I checked the cameras and saw the father taking the bill, putting the money in, sitting there for just 3-4 minutes, looking around, then taking the money back and leaving with the whole family!

Our owner told me to simply ban him and his family. To my surprise, he actually came back with friends on a busy evening a couple of months later.

I was very excited watching the embarrassment on his face in front of his friends and customers when I told him that he had been banned.

When his wife started to get upset, I told them I remembered them and told them the whole story with me checking the cameras and seeing him taking the money back and all!


It Was Worth It


When I was in high school, I worked in the children’s room of my local library. The library had an amnesty month every year. People could return overdue books for one month with no fines or fees. Of course, on the last day of amnesty month, the library was packed.

People were coming in and returning bags and boxes full of books. It was an absolute mess. I was scanning books when the phone rang. A woman called and asked if I could renew her books over the phone.  If the library wasn’t crowded, I would’ve been able to.

However, the library was packed, and people just kept dumping books on the counter, so I didn’t have time to renew her books over the phone. At the time, the computer system wasn’t capable of renewing a bunch of books all at once.

Therefore, if you didn’t have the physical book, you had to manually enter each book’s title, author, or ISBN number. I told the woman that I just didn’t have time to return her books over the phone.

She started yelling about how it was amnesty month, how she couldn’t afford to pay her fines, and how I had to renew the books for her because she couldn’t come in.

I was getting frustrated but tried to remain calm and polite. She kept yelling and cursing at me and finally said, “If you don’t renew my books, I’m never coming back! You’ll lose a valued customer!” 

To which I replied in the most epic way possible: “You’re not a paying customer. The library is free. If you want your books renewed, you have to come in yourself.” And then I hung up. Later, I got yelled at by my supervisor, but it was worth it.


How Dare You?


I worked at a Walgreen’s photo lab right after high school, and it was my first job. There was a really nice lady who used to come by every now and then to have her pictures developed, and whenever they came out we would chat about them because I thought they were great.

One day while we were talking, another customer arrived. When I asked her how I could help her, she started yelling at me because she didn’t like the way her photos came out.

She threw them on the counter and was really angry with me and wanted to speak to my manager. I called for my manager and she came over and tried to calm the angry lady down.

The angry lady started pointing at me and said that I messed up her photos, and blah, blah, blah, threats, better business bureau, yak, yak, yak. I don’t know what to tell her other than I’m sorry and that I didn’t know what was wrong.

I told her I processed them like I was supposed to and that most of the work was done by the machine, to which she immediately replied “then what good are you?”

Suddenly, the nice lady with the cool pictures pipes up in this authoritative tone: “How dare you? How dare you say that to him and accuse him of ruining your pictures? He already said he was sorry. Do you realize that what you said is going to cost him his job? Shame on you.”

The angry lady just got quiet, realized how she was acting, and left. I thanked the nice lady, and it made me tear up a bit afterwards because having someone stand up for you feels good.


Daily Specials


A customer ordered one of our daily specials and didn’t like it. Instead of complaining to me about the food and letting me offer something else, she complained to my manager about ME.

She left, and I was glad to be rid of her. But the nightmare was just beginning. As it turned out, she was one of my college professors for that semester, teaching a management course.

On the first day of class, she recognized me, but I played it off like I didn’t know her. Bet you can guess how fun THAT class was.


Worst Day Ever


It was my first week of waitressing when two old ladies came in two hours before the end of my night shift. They ordered the turkey specials, which came with soup and dessert. They seemed nice. 

If only I’d known what I was in for. I got their food and checked on them. Everything was fine, but they were still eating. I came back 15 minutes later to check on them again. One woman was finished, so I took her plate, but the other wasn’t, so I left her to it.

I came by again 10 minutes later and asked, “Still eating?” The centerpieces in the middle of the table were positioned in such a way that I didn’t notice the fork in her hand.

She responded very rudely, “Obviously, I am. What does it look like?” I was new at this, so I was taken back. I apologized and laughed it off nervously. At that point, however, the kitchen was 10 minutes to closing.

I needed to put in their dessert order so the staff would know what items to not clean up and put away. So, I asked the women if I could take their dessert orders, and the same woman looked at me angrily and said, “Do not rush us!

"We come here every week and never have experienced such poor service. There is no need for you to be hovering like this.” I suppose I was hovering, but they were taking forever.

I apologized and explained the kitchen was closing soon, but she wouldn’t have it and sent me on my way. The other lady was just sitting there awkwardly, not saying a thing. I went back to the kitchen and noticed my boss walking to their table.

A half-hour passed, and the kitchen closed, and the restaurant was about to close too. However, they were still chatting. When they were finally done, I went and asked if I could take their dessert order.

They ordered something that needed to be prepared by the kitchen, as well as coffee for the table. The coffee machine had already been cleaned, which was a whole process, and the kitchen staff was gone.

I told them the situation, and the one rude woman insisted I ask my boss to reopen the kitchen because he knew them and they were regulars. He reluctantly did it.

We made a whole new batch of coffee, and he whipped up their order in the kitchen. I had to stay an hour and a half late while my ride waited in the parking lot so that I could re-clean the kitchen by myself.

Then I got yelled at by my boss for not taking their dessert order earlier. He gave me no chance to explain myself. To top it all off, when they left, I got a measly $8 tip on a $75 bill. It was the worst day ever.


Computer God


I worked for a company that made computer gaming cases and accessories. A guy claimed that one of the internal fans in one of our cases caused his motherboard to explode. He shouted at me, demanding a refund for all the components he purchased. I was cool-headed and didn’t yell back.

I tried to understand his situation as best I could with his bad temper. He called himself a “computer god” and said he knew our fan somehow caused it to explode. After about half an hour of putting up with his excessive shouting, he yelled at me that he was coming to our office since he lived nearby. 

We thought he was joking, but we were so, so wrong. A half-hour later, he stormed into our lobby and slammed his burnt-up computer on our receptionist’s desk.

We noticed that it was not our computer case or fan, there were pencil shards inside the power supply, and the PCI-E power cord was jammed into the motherboard’s four-pin power port. There was also goop seeping into a few of the pin ports.

We attempted to explain to him that what he brought in was not one of our products. However, he was stubborn and insisted that it was. We even pointed out the manufacturer’s website that matched the logo on his case and fan, but he still refused to believe it.

After an hour or so of him shouting nonsense, we had to call the authorities. When officers arrived, the guy quieted down. They took him outside to question him about the situation, and things took another turn.

The guy immediately became furious again and started shouting complaints to the officer. After five minutes of questioning, we showed the officer that this wasn’t our product.

The officer already knew the guy wasn’t exactly “stable,” so he warned him to go away and not bother us anymore. The guy shouted threats and eventually drove off.


You Forgot Your Change


When I was in college, I worked at an Italian restaurant. A family of five came in and ordered appetizers, some drinks, and food. When I brought out the bill, the wife took it and paid in cash, leaving me a tip of $3 and some change on an $80 bill.

The service was good, so I was pretty angry about the tip. A minute later, I noticed the husband and kids standing by the front door.

They were waiting for the wife to use the restroom. I walked up to the man, said, “Excuse me, sir, you forgot your change,” and held out the $3. The husband looked at me and took me by surprise. 

He said, “Is that all that woman left you?” He then reached in his pocket, pulled out $30, and said, “There you go, sorry about that.”


They're Lucky That No One Got Hurt


I went to clear a guy’s glass that had about seven atoms of booze left in it. I grabbed the glass and he called me a slur and screamed. I had already moved past him when he bellowed at me again.

As I began to turn around and return the drink to him, he was glaring, his face red, and he was clenching and unclenching his fist.

As I always do in this situation, I returned the glass to him and watched him pretend to “drain” it into his mouth even though there was nothing more than a microscopic patina of fluid left within it.

When he held up the glass, having “finished” it, I pointedly turned away from him without taking it. That’s when things immediately escalated—the glass clipped my shoulder and smashed into the wall in front of me.

The guy had just hurled the glass at me, full strength, for having the audacity not to grovel in response to his rudeness. The glass shattered with incredible force against the wall in front of me, and shards of glass went everywhere.

It was a crowded balcony, and it was an absolute miracle that no one even got a minor cut. Security wrestled him out.


I Can't Eat That Much!

1_resize24483399689_200d52d256_k-1536x1017-1.jpg.optimal.jpgFlickr / avlxyz / CC 2.0

My friend was in line at KFC when a woman began rattling off a long order. I’m talking two family buckets of extra crispy, sides of biscuits, bowls of gravy, you name it. At the end of the order the female cashier asks the large woman, “For here or to go?”

The woman blows a gasket and screams, “GIRL, I CAN’T EAT THAT MUCH!” To which the cashier replies, without the slightest bit of hesitancy, “GIIIRRRRLLLL, I DON’T KNOW YOUR WORLD.” It was the most boss thing that has ever occurred in a KFC…to my knowledge.


A Very Particular Order


When I was in high school, I worked at a fast-food restaurant. We had a regular who would come in every Sunday morning and order the same thing—a side salad, super-size fries, and a Happy Meal for her grandkid.

One day, the person who bagged her order put the salad and the fries in the same bag, as we were trained to do. The supersize fry containers were tall, and the side salad was in one of those little rectangular plastic things, so as you can imagine, the fries fell over.

For a normal person, this isn’t a big deal, but for this lady, it was. She needed new fries and a new salad in separate bags this time. Of course, the fries we had already made for her were not good enough, and she refused to leave or accept the new ones until we made a fresh basket.


A Disgrace to All Mexicans


I worked at a hotel restaurant in a border town where many wealthy Mexicans would come over to the US to shop. I, myself, am an American of Mexican descent, although I don’t speak Spanish. One day a lady called to ask a question.

I told her I didn’t speak Spanish and was the only person available, so I could not help her. She asked for my name and, because my last name is a Mexican last name, she told me I was a disgrace to all Mexicans and tried to get me fired.


Don't You Know Who I Am?


I worked at a home improvement store. One night I found myself with a line of five or six customers, each with a sizable order. There were no more available cashiers. I was busting my butt to get everyone checked out quickly.

When I got to the last person in line, I relaxed slightly and proceeded to scan all of their items. When the lady tried to pay, she wrote out a check that had obviously been printed at home. It wasn’t necessarily fake, but we had a policy not to accept computer-printed checks.

I told the lady such, and she threw a fit. She started yelling at me. She told me that she had to leave because she was already 30 minutes late to pick her children up in a town that was 30 minutes away.

She accused me of deliberately slowing down and scanning her items as slowly as possible. I tried to calm her down. She didn’t. She was absolutely raging. She said, “Don’t you know who I am? You’ll never work in this town again!” 

She yelled at me to get my manager because I still wouldn’t accept her check. The newer assistant manager came up and told me to go ahead and take the check.

I tried to remind her of the store’s policy. She then talked to the lady in front of the store for another five minutes or so. After that, the manager came back, gave me a look, and went back to her office. She promptly came back with a slip telling me that she had written me up. I quit not long after.


Free Pizza


Back in high school, I was delivering pizza. I got this delivery about an hour before closing. I pulled up to this house, and four girls answered the door. They were about 14 to 16 years old, and I had just turned 18 at the time. They started flirting with me.

I was pretty shy back then, so I just smiled, handed them their pizza, and waited for them to get their money. They came back with a check but no tip.  One of the girls said, “Wait, let us get your tip.” They came back with a huge jar of change, and what they did next completely disgusted me. 

Three of the girls took out a handful of change; the fourth one grabbed my belt and started to pull me in the door while the other three put change into my pockets and down my shorts.

I broke loose from the one holding my belt, and they just started grabbing at my shorts. They were all giggling, change was going everywhere, and I heard a man’s voice say, “What are you girls doing?”

One of them said, “Nothing, daddy.” I freaked out, ripped their hands off of me, and ran back to my car. However, my shorts started falling off due to the weight of the change.

I got in my car when I saw the dad was walking towards my car. I got out of there ASAP. On the way back I called my manager, to warn him about what had just happened.

He ended up having to give these people free pizza due to my supposed harassment of the girls. He also had to tell the guy I would be fired.


Terribly Impractical Language Skills


I worked at a drug store in high school. I had a German couple check out at my register, and they were incredibly rude. They were complaining in German about the customers behind them in line, using vulgar language and whatnot.

Apparently, I wasn’t moving fast enough for their liking, and the woman called me a name in German. But she didn’t know one thing. She was obviously not aware that that was the terribly impractical language that I took in high school.

When I finished their order, I stared her in the eye and said thank you in her native tongue, and they both looked shocked and embarrassed. It felt good, man.


Condescending and Demanding


I waited tables for a few years when I was in college, and the worst table that I ever had was a priest and some guy he was trying to hit up for donations.

He was very condescending and demanding during the whole meal. After everything was done, I left the check at the table. He ended up walking out, stiffing me not just on the tip but on the entire bill. He even took the leather check holder.

I reported the incident to my manager. A couple of weeks later, the same priest came in with about 20 members of his congregation. My manager told him, in front of his whole party, that he wasn’t welcome in our restaurant after he walked out on his previous tab. They all left and went somewhere else.


Cheese and Peppers


I worked delivery for a pizza/ice cream/sandwich shop in a small rural town. We had a guy who lived a solid half-hour outside of town who ordered about once a week or so.

None of us knew why the owner ever agreed to deliver to this guy in the first place, being that far out, but we used to wonder if the owner was being threatened into doing it.

The level of nonsense this customer would raise if you didn’t bring him cheese and peppers for his pizza was absolute madness. He was genuinely a psychopath. 

There was an incident where a delivery driver found the customer waiting on his porch polishing a shotgun, and the first thing the customer did was loosely point it towards the driver and say, “Did you bring my cheese and peppers?”

We fully believed the customer would have shot our driver if the answer had been no. As it was, the driver didn’t have as much cheese and peppers as the customer would have liked.

He called the restaurant and threw a fit. From then on, when we delivered to this guy we were told to take a giant bucket of cheese and peppers with us.


We're Out of Glasses


I used to be a bartender at this hybrid restaurant/bar/movie theater. On big movie releases, the bar would get absolutely slammed. On one particular night, we had completely run out of glassware. The only glasses I had at the time were regular pint glasses that we would normally serve water in.

A guy and his date got lucky and caught a seat at the bar. He ordered a Jack Daniels neat. Having no other glassware, I put it in a pint glass and explained that we were running low on rocks glasses, assuming he would understand since it was absolute chaos everywhere you looked.

He took it and said, “I’m not very happy,” and gave this smirky little grin. I apologized again and said, “Unfortunately, we’re not making any more glasses back here.” He and his date acted like I had reached across the bar and slapped him.

I got my manager and told him to deal with them.


Take Your Business Elsewhere


I worked at a small electronics retail store when I was in high school. A guy had come in asking me to give him a quote for a couple of different karaoke players.

One was $249, and the other was $374. I gave him both a printed and verbal price quote. He came in the next day with his family and talked to one of my co-workers, who proceeded to tell him the same thing I told him the day before.

His eyes widened, and he blew into this raging fit. I was stocking CDs when he pointed at me and shouted,


My manager knew I could not have made such a stupid mistake, and the written quote proved it. She still told the guy that “people make mistakes” and “maybe one of us misheard each other.” The guy kept going on about how staff should be properly trained in a store with such little inventory. 

At that point, his wife was mouthing apologies to my manager.  My manager quietly told him to take his business elsewhere, and he stormed out.


Mother's Day Fiasco


I worked at a small, family-owned pizza place in the suburbs that was fairly popular. For some reason, Mother’s Day was a BIG day for this place, and as a thank you to the moms, we were supposed to give every mother, grandmother, or special woman a rose with their dinner.

One Mother’s Day, I opened the restaurant with only one other server, two cooks, and no highchairs or tablecloths because a sister restaurant had borrowed them.

I hadn’t had a food break, so by the end of my seven-hour shift, I was pretty beat. I had a table of two adults, who seemed totally pleasant and lovely…until I brought them their check. The woman looked at me and asked why so many people had roses.

I explained the whole Mother’s Day thing, and she got a look of total rage on her face. Her response was totally unexpected: “How rude of you to assume we don’t have kids!” It had honestly slipped my mind to ask.

She continued, “I can’t believe you would be so horrible! I want to talk to your manager.” At that point, she started yelling loudly, and people were staring. I apologized to her and got my manager.

He tried to appease her, but she started yelling how she wanted their meal comped. My boss wouldn’t comp anyone’s meal short of it coming out on fire or something extreme, so he politely refused.

He offered to comp their drinks, but that’s it since I had apologized and didn’t mean to be so thoughtless. I brought her a rose and apologized again, but she just wouldn’t let go of her hatred. She proceeded to throw it back at me and declared she didn’t want it.

She said that they were leaving and never coming back. She stormed out, leaving her husband behind to pay the bill. He paid it and left me no tip, pointedly telling me that I had completely ruined Mother’s Day for his wife.

He said he hoped I was happy being a worthless person and that he would call the owner and tell him just what a horrible waitress I was. I spent the rest of my shift crying in the back hallway between serving tables, convinced I was going to be fired.


They Could Afford More


Three girls came in a few hours before our dining area was about to close. They were all in their 20s and they looked prissy. Even though I had just finished a long day, I toiled for a good two hours, getting them food and drinks.

I was kind to them, tried to crack a few jokes, and made them feel at home. It was rearing down to the last half hour, so I let them know that our dining area was closed, but they could feel free to move to the bar.

A half an hour later, I realized that they had no intention of doing so, so as the cook left and the lights were dimmed, it was just me watching these girls and bringing them drinks.

At this point, it was about 11:30 pm, and I was tired. However, we are expected to stay and serve until the last group lets out. The three girls were joined by their two friends, who promptly ordered drinks even though we had already closed the dining area.

They finally called me over to let me know they were ready to pay. This is when they really got on my nerves. Their bill was over $50, and they paid with a credit card.

When I got the receipt back from them, next to the tip was written $0.45. I was so furious I wanted to smack them all. I expect that kind of behavior from kids who only have a few quarters in their pockets, but not from five 20-somethings with credit cards and designer purses.


Picture Perfect


I used to work at a camera store. I had customers who would come in, listen to my assessment of their camera’s problems, and then ask to speak to a male salesperson instead.

The men would then tell them exactly the same thing I said. I guess it’s just easier to believe a man knows how cameras work than a silly little woman.


Foreign Currency


I was working the register during a fairly normal Sunday morning. After ringing up this guy’s subs, he tried to pay with Canadian money, while the shop we were in was in the United States.

I refused the foreign currency, and the guy threw a hissy fit. I tried to calm him down, and he started ranting about everything that could be ranted about. He knocked over the cookie rack and left. The other customer in the line left me a few dollars as a tip and made sure to tell me it was the correct currency.


Disgusting Customer


I had a guy who hated his order. He waved me over and told me to put my hand out. He then proceeded to entirely let out what was in his mouth into my hand and told me to refund him his money.

He then demanded I make him something else. I was so shocked, I couldn’t say anything. I just walked away to the bathroom and cleaned my hands for what felt like hours.

Luckily, my boss kicked him out, and he was never allowed back.


Good Riddance!


My vet has been after me to take my dog to get his teeth cleaned. I made an online appointment to drop him off and received a confirmation email of my appointment time being 9 am.

A couple of days before the appointment, I received another reminder email with 9 am. I arrive to the clinic at 8:45 am and check in with the receptionist. They ask me to have a seat and they’ll come get my dog quickly to take him back.

About 30 minutes later, after no one had come, I asked the receptionist if there was a delay and she responded, “Well, you should have been here at 7 am. So since you’re late it’s taking longer.”

I replied that the appointment time I received and confirmed was for 9 am. She refused to accept my answer and continued to say that it was 7 am and it doesn’t matter what I received.

I politely sat back down to wait again instead of engaging in an argument. Shortly after, they came to take my dog back to clean his teeth. I spoke with the vet tech and they said that the reason for the 7 am arrival was for blood work but it wasn’t a big deal and they’d get it done still.

Before leaving, I looked up the email on my phone and of course, it said 9 am. I proceeded to try to show the email to the receptionist, who didn’t even look at the email and instead said, “I don’t have control over the emails sent. That’s corporate.”

I responded that she may not be responsible for sending the emails but she works for the company that does and should be able to provide the feedback.

She smirked at me and kept to her story, that it wasn’t her problem and it was my fault I wasn’t informed of the early arrival. The smirking is what sent me over the top. She began to act as if she wanted to physically fight, which was fine with me, but the lead tech came out to defuse the situation.

Eventually, I left to do a few errands while they completed the teeth cleaning. But it was far from over. 3 pm rolls around and I began to get worried that I hadn’t heard from the vet since 9 am.

I attempted to call with no answer. After a few tries, someone answered. I asked about my dog and they simply responded with, “He’s doing good. He’s been out to pee and they should be calling you soon.”

We hung up. 4:30 pm comes and I’m starting to get more and more upset that I have no idea what’s going on. I tried calling and despite numerous calls, I couldn’t get through. I called corporate, who also was having trouble getting through.

Corporate told me the only way to truly speak with someone was to GO THERE. I tell the guy on the phone he better hope he gets a hold of them before I get there to warn them I’m coming, because it won’t be pretty. I drive 30 minutes with corporate still trying to get a hold of them.

I park, get out of the car, walk up to the front desk and wait for the receptionist. Corporate comes back on the phone saying they still can’t get a hold of them.

I tell the guy “I know. I’m right here waiting for the receptionist to stop ignoring me and I’m watching them ignore your phone calls.” At the vet, I ask about my dog. THEY HADN’T EVEN COMPLETED THE TEETH CLEANING. MY DOG HAD BEEN KENNELED FOR 8 HOURS FOR NOTHING.

At this point, my voice is raised and I’m not holding anything back. The same lead vet tech comes out to discuss with me and while I’m explaining that just that morning the receptionist (who wasn’t there anymore) had argued with me about needing to be there at 7 am FOR NOTHING.

That it wouldn’t have mattered whether I got there at 7 am or camped out in the parking lot, they wouldn’t have completed my dog’s cleaning anyway.

I also pointed out the fact that NO ONE communicated with me about them not being able to get to my dog. Then I got sent over the edge. What does this vet tech do? SHE SMIRKS AT ME. I couldn’t even contain the rage anymore.

I started lecturing her about the smirking and the fact that the SAME behavior is what set me off with the morning receptionist. She swore she wasn’t smirking and apologized but it was too late. I told her if they don’t bring me my dog I will go back there myself and get him.

An employee in the store (the vet clinic is inside a pet store) who was leaving stopped in his tracks and began watching the altercation between me and the lead vet tech. He stood there for about five minutes, holding an empty water jug, about 15-20 feet away.

After I finished giving the vet tech a lecture I turned to the employee and said “Can I help you? You can keep it moving. This isn’t a show.” His response was to turn around and walk back into the grooming salon that was right next to the vet and point at me as he gossiped to his coworkers.

Me? I waved! I yelled: “Where’s YOUR manager?” He came back out and told me HE was the manager and he was worried about the vet tech’s safety. I turned to the vet tech and asked her if she felt threatened and she replied no.

I pointed out to him that he wasn’t needed and if he was soooooo worried about her safety he should have been much closer than 20 feet away for so long and shouldn’t have retreated to his grooming salon until I called him out for gossiping. As I’m talking to him, a woman appears and asks what’s going on. 

It got real interesting. Guess what? SHE was the manager. I tell her that homeboy wanted to be an onlooker and then go and gossip to other employees. She tells me he wouldn’t do that. I tell her at this point all I want is to leave. All I want is my dog and I’m gone.

They bring my dog out while the manager, grooming employee, and lead vet tech are there. Homeboy tries to pet my dog! As I’m trying to leave, the lady who runs the clinic comes out and tells me she wants to talk.

I respond that I’m done talking and they’ve lost my dog as a patient. She continues to try to get me to speak with her so finally, I give in. I don’t wanna be rude to an older lady.

As I’m describing everything I’ve been through, the incorrect time on the email, the receptionist with the attitude, my dog being contained for 8 hours for no reason, the lead vet tech’s smirking, the employee who couldn’t mind his business…

She proceeds to tell me that they KNEW when I dropped him off that they wouldn’t be able to get to him because of another emergency.

SAY WHAT?! She also tells me they’re having a lot of trouble with the employees at the clinic and she’s upset at my experience and wants the opportunity to do better.

She offers to clean my dog’s teeth if I bring him in again, to which I replied absolutely not. I’ve got problems with at least two of your employees and you want me to trust your team to take good care of my dog?

You’re crazy. I left and vowed never to shop at the pet store nor use the clinic or grooming salon ever again. Good riddance!


He Won't Be Staying With Us Again


I used to work as a front desk agent at a boutique hotel. A guy who was obviously very full of himself came in with an online reservation that he had booked at a shockingly cheap nightly rate.

He proceeded to give me a hard time about EVERYTHING, from telling me he shouldn’t have to give me his credit card info since he had prepaid his reservation, to telling me “Um yeah, I’m pretty sure I can find the elevators, I’m not stupid.”

He was just being an all-around jerk. About 10 minutes after checking him in, he came down and demanded that we give him a bigger room with a king bed and a view, even though he had booked a standard queen bed online. I complied, as we had extra king beds available.

10 minutes later, he came down again to complain about the size of the room. He told me, “I’m only going to give you one more chance to make me happy,” and asked for the general manager.

After much arguing between him and my manager, we ended up giving him our nicest suite AND free parking since we had “Given him trouble.” He got all this for a way cheaper rate, like $40 per night! Oh, but he outdid himself.

Get this: He informed us shortly after the ordeal, while on his way out to dinner, that he was not even going to be in the room for the majority of his stay, as he was visiting friends and would be staying at their home. What the heck!

So I made it my personal mission to make his life a living nightmare from that point on. I reset his room keys every time I saw him leave the hotel—which was quite frequently, 3-4 times a day.

It was particularly funny when he came back tired from a night out and had to come all the way down to the front desk to get his keys fixed. Needless to say, he was very frustrated by the end of his stay. I doubt he’ll be staying with us again.


Excellent Memory


When I was a server I would always record my tables’ orders. Even though my memory is good, my handwriting is bad so I didn’t want to take the risk of getting something wrong. My manager said it was ok and he even put a sign up stating that some of the staff may record your order for accuracy purposes.

Seems normal, right? At the beginning, I ask each person for their name before I take any drinks or food orders. One of the people at the table orders a steak well done, which is gross but whatever.

Food comes and she said her steak was not medium rare like she wanted and I apologized and told her that she did order it well done. Here we go…

This sparked a big rant, lots of cussing, a call for the manager, etc. Again, I apologize and say let’s go to the tape. The look on her face when I played back the recording of “And Karen how would you like your steak?” was priceless.

She tried to play off that it wasn’t her but nobody else ordered a steak at her table. Her friends just laughed at her.


Second Job


My insufferable manager followed me after work to my second job because she didn’t believe I had one and was just using it as an excuse to get out early. My manager at my second job said,

“There’s some crazy lady banging on the doors yelling your name.” So, I grabbed my uniform from my bag, opened the door, threw it in her face, and told her to shove off.


They Demanded Their Tip Back


There were two gay guys who worked at a Cracker Barrel in the deep South with me. None of the staff had any problem with them; they were just ordinary guys who happened to be attracted to other men. The managers were sort of prejudiced, though, and didn’t like them.

One day, two regulars came in to eat. These regulars were notorious for requesting a million things before the meal even got there. They were annoying, but at least they tipped decently. One of the gay guys accidentally told the regulars something about his boyfriend.

They went ballistic and asked him if he was gay. He told them he was. Then, one of the two regulars grabbed his hand and forced him to sit at the table. They then crossed the line—they proceeded to lecture him for about a half-hour about how he was going to the underworld for eternity.

I was watching this from another dining room and could not help him out because we were swamped. So, I got my girlfriend to help cover his tables because every time he told them he had to go, the man would grab his arm and physically force him to stay put.

I finally got the manager, who simply said,  “Well, he needs to hear this stuff anyway.” and refused to do anything about it.

Eventually, after about a half-hour, once the regulars realized they couldn’t convince him to give up his “sinful” ways, they said, “Well, we’re going to need back every tip we ever gave you.

"It’s okay if you can’t remember exactly how much; just give us back an approximate amount. I think $200 should cover it. We can’t be supporting the gays.”


Taking the High Road


I was waiting tables at a popular steakhouse when I got a party of six seated in my section. There was an older couple, who sat nearest me, and two younger couples.

The older gentleman requested an eight oz. prime rib. I asked him how he would like it cooked, and he gave the most shocking reply: “I want it your color.” His wife gleefully laughed as if it was the joke of the century, but I was taken aback.

My immediate response was, “So you don’t want any pink on it?” I informed my manager of this offensive remark, and he asked if I wanted to kick them all out.

I told him that I would bite the bullet this time, but I wasn’t too happy to serve anyone who would think that was an acceptable answer. I believe they knew they offended me because they ended up leaving me a 30% tip. I guess taking the high road was the best road in this case.


How I met your mother


I had a crush on a regular customer. Every 2 am, she would come to the drive-thru and order her usual. We hadn't met in person, but we would exchange jokes and flirt a bit. However, something felt different this time. She arrived at her usual time, and I asked if she wanted her regular order. She replied with a quick "yes," but I could feel the fear in her voice. She leaned closer to the microphone and whispered, "I think someone is following me." Her voice was shaking. I asked if I should call 911. Surprisingly, she said, "No, I think they are in on it". I asked her what she wanted me to do, and she requested that I open the door so she could come inside and pretend to order. I agreed, saying, "Okay.". I opened the door, and what I saw made my jaw drop!! She was all wet and trembling in fear. I convinced her to call the cops . after a quick search through the area they fond her ex-boyfriend in his car. he admitted to following her and planning to harm her. He was then arrested by the cops. Well after couple of months of this event I asked her on a date. And we have been married now for six years and about to start a family.


A Close Call


I worked in a small coffee shop, and we had this regular customer who always had a kind word and a smile. I didn't think anything of it at first. But then, things started to change. He began to linger, watching me intently as I worked. It was disturbing, to say the least. Then, one day, he cornered me during my break, complimenting my looks and prying into my love life. The breaking point was when he asked where I lived. I froze, a chill creeping down my spine. The next day, I requested a transfer to another store across town. BEST DECISION OF MY LIFE!

A few weeks after my transfer, my phone rang, my mom on the other end. Her voice was shaky, 'Oh, honey. Thank goodness you transferred!!' Confused, I asked, 'Why? What happened?' A gasp came through the receiver, followed by her words dripping with anxiety, 'OMG!! Haven't you heard the news?!' It was then that I felt a pit forming in my stomach, an ominous dread washed over me. What could have possibly happened that was bad enough to cause this much concern?