October Theme Of The Month: Halloween!

Category: Bad Behavior

Not A Strong Parental Drive

| Minneapolis, MN, USA | Bad Behavior, Criminal/Illegal, Family & Kids, Transportation

(I am a technician. I am given an SUV to perform a brake job. I hop in the car and drive it into the shop when I glance in the rear view mirror and spot a small boy strapped into his carseat. He smiles and waves at me. I whip around and look at him with a dumbfounded look.)

Me: “Uhh. Why are you in here?”

Boy: “Mommy said I can stay in the car.”

Me: “I think your mother was mistaken.”

(I roll down the window and shout for my shop foreman. He walks up and his jaw drops. I un-strap the child much to his dismay, and walk him into the lobby while holding his hand.)


Me: “Don’t shout at me. Why on earth did you think leaving your son in your car was a good idea? Do you have any idea how hot it was in your vehicle by the time I got into it?!”

Mother: “He’s restless. The only time he calms down is when he can nap in the car! WHY DID YOU TAKE HIM OUT?!”

Me: “Ma’am. I am not leaving a child in a hot car five feet in the air while I perform service on it.”

Shop Foreman: “Go ahead, ma’am… Call the police, and explain to them why your son’s energy is reason enough to leave him in a hot car with the windows up… I think they might side with us.”

(She sputters profanity at us for about 30 seconds before storming out of the store looking for her car.)

Shop Foreman: *to me* “Are you gonna back her car out?”

Me: “I was thinking of going to lunch, actually.”

Faker Moaning About Faking

| Devon, England, UK | Bad Behavior, Bigotry, Criminal/Illegal, Health & Body

(I use a wheelchair. The shop has customer wheelchairs marked very clearly with the name of the centre the shop is in. I’m supposed to be working on tills, but due to being short staffed, I’m helping out with stacking the shelves.)

Customer: “Excuse me?”

Me: “Yes?”

Customer: “I was wondering if I could use that wheelchair?”

(I assume she meant a wheelchair, rather than the one I’m currently sitting in.)

Me: “Of course. If you head over to the door, the security guy there can get one for you.”

Customer: “You want me to walk over?”

Me: “I’ll go and ask him. Feel free to take a seat, if it’s more comfortable for you.”

Customer: “No, it’s fine, thanks. I guess I’ll go ask myself. I mean, if I have to use one of those ugly things.”

Me: “Yeah, they’re not the best are they? But it’s really no trouble for me to go over there, if you want me to.”

(The customer shakes her head, and sits on one of the stacking stools, Maybe ten minutes later, she’s still sitting there, and all I’ve got left to shelve are things that are usually way above my head. Since I’m having a pretty good day, I figure what the hell, and start standing for short periods of time so shelve the lighter stuff, something I’m more than capable of doing.)

Customer: “How dare you!”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “How dare you sit around in that chair all day, and then start standing up with boxes just like anyone else? People like you make my life so much harder, you know that?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what—”

Customer: “I have an invisible disability. People like you who go around faking for sympathy and making everyone think I’m a faker too.”

Me: “I have an invisible disability. Hence the chair.”

Customer: “Well, then you shouldn’t be standing up, should you?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but… you walked into the shop.”

Customer: “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

Me: “You don’t?”

Customer: “I want to speak to your manager.”

(I radioed my manager over. She took a while to get there, so I carried on shelving. While I’m standing up, and my back is turned, the customer took my wheelchair and vanished off into the shop. At a loss for what to do, I took the stool she vacated and waited for my manager to show up, while the security guy at the door – visible from my aisle – took off after the woman. I sat there for almost an hour until security finally tracked the woman down in another shop in the centre. They tried for a while to get her to give my chair back, all while she accused them of discrimination, saying they think she’s an idiot who can’t tell the difference between a centre chair and mine because she’s disabled. Eventually, once security had radioed police, she gave it back. She was still sitting on the floor, yelling about fakers ruining her life, when the police arrived.)

Flea To The Devil

| SC, USA | Bad Behavior, Pets & Animals

(I am an assistant manager of an extremely popular supermarket. A middle-aged woman stops me as I pass the pet department.)

Customer: “Hey! You! I need some help.”

Me: “Sure thing, ma’am. I’m off the clock right now but I’ll see what I can do.”

Customer: “Tell me if this will work on puppies.” *thrusts box of flea medicine at my chest*

Me: “Well, it depends on the weight and age of the puppies. What breed are they?”

Customer: “Oh, my god! I don’t know! Some mutt my daughter found! I made her put it in the shed and it had puppies!”

Me: “Okay, not a problem. How old are they?”

Customer: “Three days.”

Me: “Wait, come again?”

Customer: “Are you deaf?! I said three days!”

Me: “Ma’am, you can’t put flea medicine, especially medicine for a dog ten pounds or heavier, on a puppy that’s three days old.”

Customer: “And why the h*** not!? I don’t want them getting fleas. Then they’d be all over my shed!”

Me: “Wait, they don’t even have fleas?”

Customer: “NO! You’re such an idiot!” *grabs the box back from him* “They’re at my house and I’ll put whatever I want on them!”

Me: *somewhat frantically* “Ma’am, they’ll die.”

Customer: “GOOD! I want those f****** ugly dogs dead! Those mutt, mix-breed dogs are a sin and will go to hell! I have a purebred Yorkshire Terrier and can’t risk having fleas in MY shed! I’m calling corporate about you trying to tell me what to do!”

(She then grabbed a second box and stormed out of the aisle, shouting about “mix-breeds are the devil’s work.”)

Abandon All Hope All Ye Who Abandon Your Children

| MD, USA | Bad Behavior, Family & Kids

(One customer repeatedly leaves her six-year-old in the store for hours at a time. The kid would try to tear the controllers off our demo machines, throw game boxes, and sometimes rip down entire displays. After a particularly busy morning in the holiday season, the customer walks her son in, and then makes to leave.)

Me: “Ma’am, you’ve forgotten your child.”

Woman: “I’ll be right back. He’ll be fine.”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry but you can’t leave your child here unattended.”

Woman: “I’m just going to be fifteen minutes. Watch him for me.”

Me: “Ma’am, we are not a daycare and I cannot assume responsibility for your kid. I see kids dragged out of the store screaming and crying because their parents won’t buy them something, and I have no way of knowing if a kid is being a brat or being abducted by a random stranger.”

Woman: “You’re telling me that you’d let my kid get taken?”

(I sigh, because that usually is enough to scare the parent into watching their kid better. My manager, who had been dealing with customers but had been paying attention, called out from behind the counter.)

Manager: “Ma’am, if you leave your child here I’m going to call the social services and report that the child’s been abandoned.”

(The customer’s eyes widen. She grabs her child by the arm and drags him out.)

Me: “Can we even do that?”

Manager: “No idea, but she doesn’t know that.”

An Unrewarding Exchange

| Fort Pierce, FL, USA | At The Checkout, Bad Behavior

(At my job, cashiers are required to go through a spiel for every transaction such as offering extended warranties or store credit cards. The big thing we push is the free store Rewards program. Mostly it’s a points/rewards program, but occasionally it also gets the customer a discount as well on certain items.)

Me: “Okay, ma’am, would you like to sign up for our [Rewards Program]?

Customer: “No, you people always want me to sign up for some s***!”

Me: “Not a problem, ma’am.”

(We continue with the transaction. As I hit total, the register prompts me that the customer would save five dollars on her sweaters if she signs up for the program, which I am required to inform her.)

Me: “And ma’am, I know you said you didn’t want the rewards program, but if you sign up today at no charge, you would save $5 on your sweaters! Would you be inter—”

Customer: “NO! God-d***! I already said I don’t want your f****** card! God! Don’t you know how to listen?!”

Me: “That’s perfectly fine, ma’am. I am—”

Customer: “Just let me pay and get the h*** out!”

Me: “Okay, your total is [total]. Sorry I couldn’t help you save some money today.”


Me: “All right. Apologies, ma’am.”

(I finish the transaction and the customer leaves. The woman in line behind her has been very quiet but glaring at the previous woman.)

Me: “Hello, ma’am, how are you? Would you like to sign up for [Rewards Program]?”

Next Customer: “I’ll do it, but just so I can get the discount on these sweaters. And before you ask, no, thank you, I would not like the credit card, but unlike that woman, my mother taught me manners.”

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