(I work in a computer repair service where we fix computers, reinstall windows OS and the like. A girl storms in the shop, ignoring the line and starts shouting at me.)

Customer: “Hey! When you reinstalled my Windows, you broke the wireless receiver in my laptop! I can’t connect to my wireless network! I want my money back and I want it now!”

(Other customers are obviously uncomfortable. I decide to test her laptop on the spot, on the counter, and it connects to our shops wireless network without any problems.)

Me: “See, it connects to the internet. Maybe you didn’t set up your connection properly.”

Customer: “It connects to your network, but not mine. The programs you installed must be wrong ones! I want my money back!”

Me: “If it connects to one network, it will connect to any. What kind of device are you using to broadcast your wireless signal?”

(She is silent.)

Me: “Are you connecting to your own wireless network?”

Customer: “…No.”

Me: “Are you sure you aren’t trying to steal someone else’s internet without knowing their password?”

Customer: *blushes, lowers her head, and rushes out of the shop*

Related:
Wireless, Clueless, And Hopeless, Part 11

(I am at small cupcake store. I have Php100 (around $2.50), which is the exact amount for the two cupcakes I purchase. Next to me is a shifty woman with two rowdy kids. I order and leave my money on the counter. When I get my cupcakes, the money is gone, so I assume my cupcakes are paid. I’m about to leave, when the store owner says she hasn’t received payment.)

Me: “I already paid, miss. I left the money on the counter.”

(She looks down on the counter, and on the floor, but it isn’t there. I am about to take out another 100, doubting if my memory was fine or if the money flew away, when the owner makes a small gaze at the other woman, who quickly notices it.)

Lady: “So, what? You’re blaming me? Why am I to be responsible for some girl who’s whiter? Does that mean she’s not going to cheat you? She didn’t leave any money on the counter!”

(In the Philippines, like America, there’s some racism on the skin color as well. I’m unnaturally white for a Filipino, which hints to everyone about my Spanish ancestry. I’m part Spanish, but dominantly Filipino. Anyone with light skin are automatically assumed to be of Spanish heritage while tan and darker are pure Filipino ancestry. Because of the Spanish colonization back in the early day, some still believe that Spanish-lineage people look down on Filipinos. The lady goes on a rant about how hard her life is as a mother of two, and refuses to be a victim of a, as she puts it, a Spaniard. I keep a cool and unemotional face, but the owner, who triggered the woman’s anger, begins cowering. Finally, her little boy, who looks like he would want nothing more than to leave the kiosk and find a bathroom, butts in.)

Boy: “Mom, I really have to pee. Can’t you just give them back the money you got on the counter a while ago and we can go?”

(The mom’s face turns red, grabs her bag, dumps a crumpled 100 on the counter, turns on her heel, and leaves with her nose in the air.)

Me: “Merry Christmas!”

(It is New Year’s day/night. I am working the graveyard shift and I have a pair of friends at the store keeping me company. A customer comes in and is casually walking the aisles. My friends and I continue talking, but I keep an eye on him. The customer heads for the door without buying anything, but I notice a hat rack hanging from the ceiling, swinging wildly.)

Me: “Excuse me, sir?”

(The customer stops by the door, holding his jacket closed.)

Customer: “Yeah?”

Me: “I’m really sorry, and I’m sure I’m mistaken, but would you mind opening your jacket?”

Customer: “Why do you want me to do that?”

Me: “Again, I’m sure I’m mistaken, and I do apologize, but I need to make sure you didn’t forget to pay for a hat.”

Customer: “How dare you accuse me of stealing! I don’t have to do what you say!”

Me: “Sir, if you don’t I’ll have to—”

(At this point, the customer darts out the door. I know we’re not supposed to, but I am angry that this guy would steal from me. I hop the counter and start running for the door. The customer sees me and takes off running. I chase him across the parking lot and start across the street after him when my better judgement kicks in. I go back inside, but am surprised to see my friends laughing really hard.)

Me: “What’s so funny?!”

One Of My Friends: “Dude! His car is right there! Parked outside!”

(I call the police, who arrive and check his trunk. The customer had had a busy night, and had stolen from a few other stores. A cop is taking my statement when we see a woman get in the customer’s car and start it up.)

Cop: *to the woman* “What are you doing?”

Woman: “…Oh, my husband is drunk and forgot that he had driven the car to the store. I’m just picking it up.”

(Sensing an opportunity, the cop slyly smiles at me, before continuing to speak to the woman.)

Cop: “Okay, go ahead…”

(The woman gets in the car and drives off, unwittingly leading the cop to her home. I testified in court a few weeks later.)

(Being close to a bad part of town, we’d often get unruly kids with nothing better to do than to hang out in our store. It is usually the same group of kids, and they always happen to break something during every visit. After breaking a football game display (by cleverly playing football with it), we issue a permanent ban. The following takes place within a year. The next day…)

10-year-old Gang Leader: “Why won’t you let us in?”

Manager: “You keep breaking our stuff.”

10-year-old Gang Leader: “F*** you! I’ll break what I want!”

Manager: “And that’s why we banned you. Leave. Now.”

(A week later…)

10-year-old Gang Leader: “Let us in! We’ll be good!”

Manager: “Not happening.”

10-year-old Gang Leader: “Fine, this place sucks! We’ll go to the other store, then you’ll be happy!”

Manager: “Will you buy something from there?”

10-year-old Gang Leader: “No.”

Manager: “Then I don’t care where you go.”

(A month later…)

10-year-old Gang Leader: “Hey man, it’s been a month. We’ve learned our lesson. Let us in or we’ll tell our parents!”

Manager: “We have enough video surveillance saved of you guys to press charges. You really want to let your parents know about this?”

(They leave silently. A few months later…)

10-year-old Gang Leader: “Hey, I’m not sure if you heard, but the manager unbanned us!”

Me: *calling their bluff* “He’s in the back, let me check.”

(He actually had the day off. The gang runs away. Finally, a year goes by, and we haven’t seen or heard from the kids at all. When they show up, my manager is about to kick them out, when I interject.)

Me: “Listen, I think these kids got the message that we’re serious. They haven’t bothered asking to be let in for a whole year, and here they are, politely asking to be let back in. Let’s give them a second chance!”

Manager: “Fine, but they’re your responsibility.”

Me: *to the kids* “Alright guys, it’s been a whole year, and I’d like to think you learned your lesson. I convinced the manager to let you in, but do anything bad again, and it’s back to being banned. Deal?”

10-year-old Gang Leader: “Deal.” *he then drops his pants and flashes a group of adults*

Me: “BANNED FOREVER, AGAIN!”

(I work at a car wash that often sees high-end vehicles such as Ferraris. In fact, we get so much people staring that we’d actually had to change our exit to the road as people always bunched up around the cars making exiting difficult. The exit is very well signed, with big white lines being drawn; not a single accident has happened. However, one day, someone in a very banged-up Volkswagen wants to save time by driving into the exit so he could get to the pump quicker, but drives straight into a brand new Ferrari.)

Volkswagen Driver: “My car! Look at what you have done to my car!”

Ferrari Driver: “Pardon me?!”

Volkswagen Driver: “Look at what you have done to my car with your s*** Lamborghini!”

Ferrari Driver: “First of all, this is a Ferrari. Secondly, I honestly can’t tell if the big dent in your car was there to begin with or not. Judging by the state of your vehicle, it must have been. But, seeing how you have damaged my vehicle, we are going to have a problem.”

Volkswagen Driver: “Pssh. Your car isn’t worth half of mine! See the audio equipment in my baby, buddy? 500 Euros!”

(The Ferrari driver gets on his phone as the Volkswagen driver continues to rant about how that ‘piece of s*** Porsche’ ruined his car. Sure enough, the police arrive and take statements. Once they take the Ferrari owner’s statement and review our security footage, the Volkswagen driver is blamed.)

Volkswagen Driver: “F*** you, a**holes!” I’m not going to pay for that wreck!”

Police Officer: “You certainly are, but we’ll discuss that on the station.”

Volkswagen Driver: “Why?!”

Police Officer: “Well, to start with, you’ve given us false details. Following that, you caused an accident and refused to settle this correctly whilst clearly being to blame. Following that, we have done a check on your vehicle and it’s uninsured. Also, you don’t have a licence and you’re wanted for two hit and runs.”

(At that moment the Volkswagen driver starts to run. His mistake is trying to run past the Ferrari driver, who has been calm and collected through the whole ordeal. Without a single second thought, the Ferrari driver takes a swing at the Volkswagen driver; who gets hit in the stomach and collapses for the police officers to arrest him. We learn that the Volkswagen driver was put in jail for four years for various offences, while the Ferrari driver was let off with a warning.)