(I am the first person to arrive at work in the morning, and I answer a call literally as soon as I walk into the door.)

Caller: “Finally! I have been calling since 5 am! You people should be ashamed, I have an emergency!”

Me: “I’m sorry, no one gets here until 10 am most days. How can I help you?”

Caller: “I have a serious problem! My daughter has planned to have a date sometime today at your theater, and I told her she was not allowed to go! I need you to cancel her ticket!”

(I see no pre-sales for the day at all.)

Me: “Well no one has bought a ticket so far for today, so I can’t really help. Maybe you should just make her stay home?”

Caller: “Well I can’t do that, she lives in her own place and I can’t get over there in time to stop her.”

Me: “So just how old is your daughter anyway?”

Caller: “She’s 28.”

Me: “Ma’am, she’s an adult and I cannot refuse her a ticket because you do not approve of her date.”

Caller: “You don’t understand! He’s a Democrat!”

(Around my restaurant area a lot of kids hang out, most of whom are the unfavorable type. This day in particular, one of them decides to open the door and swear at everyone inside/)

Kid: “All of you are f***ing b****es!”

(We ignore it and try to continue work as if nothing happened.)

Kid: “F*** you, f***ing pigs!”

(We ignore it again and this repeats for another two times. I am getting very annoyed.)

Kid: “Girls should stay in the kitchen!”

Me: “Hey, stop that or I’ll call security.”

Kid: *looks at me up and down* “Whatever! I bet you want to do me, don’t you?”

(The kid continues to talk dirty and make gestures to me, so I cut it off there.)

Me: “Get out of here before I start breaking your legs.”

(The kid looks shocked, probably because he didn’t expect anyone to snap back at him. He runs away. My co-worker, boss and everyone else in the restaurant applaud and we get back into business. About 20 minutes later, the kid comes back with his mother.)

Mother: “Look, my son told me you threatened to break his legs! I’m reporting you to the police!”

Me: “Did he also tell you he was harassing us?”

Mother: “He told me he was talking to people when you–" *pushes index finger into my chest* "–threatened to break his legs!”

Me: “I can tell you, now, Ma’am. He was harassing me and the customers.”

Mother: “Lies! I’ll charge you for threatening a child!”

Me: “Yes, then I’ll sue him for harassment, sexual harassment and disturbing the peace.”

(The mother looks at the kid with horror on her face but doesn’t give up just yet.)

Mother: “You have no proof my son did that! I’ll charge you for psychological damages!”

Me: “I have plenty of proof on our cameras.” *I point to camera in the back corner, and then to the one at the front* “I also have a room full of witnesses who can give testimony on what he said and did.”

Mother: *stands on her spot stunned*

Me: “So do you want your can of whoop-a** here, or shall I serve it to you in court?”

(I have a caller named Victor Krumm in the computer system. I’m a Harry Potter fan.)

Me: “Okay, sir, so you’re Victor Krumm?”

Caller: “Yep, that’s me.”

Me: “Sorry, this might sound funny, but did you know that there’s a book series called Harry Potter with a character with that name?”

(There’s a pause, as if he’s thinking, and suddenly he yells.)

Caller: “THE MUGGLES KNOW!”

(He hangs up. His wife calls a little while later to actually schedule.)

(I work at a call center in Canada dealing with American cell customers. This is a call from a customer in Seattle.)

Me: “Hello, thanks for calling [Company Name]. How may I help you?”

Caller: “Does your company outsource to India?”

Me: “I don’t know for sure, but I know it does hire companies out of the USA.”

Caller: “I’d like to cancel my service, then.”

Me: “I can do that for you. May I ask why you’d like to cancel?”

Caller: “I don’t support companies that don’t support America. If they’re hiring out of America, then I don’t want to support them.”

Me: “Alright, I’ll process that cancellation for you.”

Caller: “Am I calling to India?!”

Me: “No. I’m actually in Canada.”

Caller: “Oh, I love Canada! I do all my shopping there. Everything is so much cheaper!”

(I walk in and stand in a line. I’ve been there for all of five seconds before a man runs in, elbows his way to the front of the queue and slams a burger in front of the cashier. She is a young teenager.)

Customer: "You f***ing b****! How many f***ing times do I have to tell you no f***ing sauce?!"

Cashier: *smiling all the way through the exchange* "I’m sorry sir, what seems to be the problem?"

Customer: "You f***ing up my burger! I want a refund now!"

Cashier: "Certainly, sir! Do you remember what time you came in at?"

Customer: "How am I supposed to f***ing know? You’re the one who took the d*** order!"

Cashier: "I’ll have a look, sir, if you give me one moment."

(She taps her screen, all the while being yelled abuse at by the customer. All the other customers have since cleared out, except for me. I motion to the cashier that I’ve called the police.)

Cashier: "Hm…oh, is this your order?” *rattles off a few items*

Customer: "Yes, that’s my d*** order! Now give me my f***ing refund!"

Cashier: "Certainly, sir, let me just authorise that for you."

(She taps on her screen some more and swipes a card a few times.)

Customer: "F***ing hurry up, you b****! My f***ing dinner’s getting cold!"

Cashier: "My apologies sir, give me one moment. Would you like me to give you a fresh order?"

Customer: "You’d better, you b****!”

Cashier: *hands customer his refunded money* "Okay, it’ll be three minutes to cook your order so if you’d like to sit down-"

(At this point the man throws the money he’s just been given at the cashier and screams abuse at her. She picks up the change and counts it.)

Cashier: "Your change comes up to £3.71, which is just enough for another meal. Which one would you like?"

Customer: "Would you just hurry up and give me my d*** food! Are you f***ing simple or something?”

Cashier: "No, just distracting you ’till the police get here."

(Two uniformed police officers walk in and take the man away, who is still cursing. The manager walks out of a side room which he has been hiding in–he’s about thirty and male–and offers her a promotion on the spot. She promptly tells him that she’d rather die than be spineless like him and quits. She then pockets the change, grabs most of the food on display and leaves, but not before thanking me and sharing half the food with me.)

(I am working as a cashier at a movie theater.)

Me: “Here are your tickets, ma’am. The theater is on your right. Here are your 3D glasses.”

(About five minutes pass before I hear her complaining to my manager.)

Customer: “…and that girl didn’t tell me! She should be fired! I could have really gotten hurt tripping over the stairs. She never told me that I only needed the 3D glasses for the movie!”

Manager: “Ma’am, you don’t need the glasses for real life. Real life is already in three dimensions.”

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A New Dimension Of Stupidity

(I have psoriasis, a hereditary condition which leaves me with large red patches on my scalp. This occurs while I am waiting in line at a convenience store with a woman standing behind me.)

Customer: "What’s wrong with you?"

Me: "I beg your pardon?"

Customer: "Those ugly blotches all over your head. What do you have?"

Me: "Oh, it’s a highly contagious flesh eating disease. Very painful."

Customer: "Oh my gosh! Really? How contagious is it?"

Me: "Well, you probably already have it."

Customer: *rushes out of the store in a panic*

(I am working as a barista in a small coffee shop in a mall, located right next to the escalators. There’s a large window between the shop and the escalators, so I can see people going up and down. I’m having a very good day and making espresso when all of the sudden the escalators stop. A very stressed woman comes running around the corner, looking very angry.)

Customer: *waving with both hands* “Will you stop that!”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “Oh my God! I have my shopping cart in the escalators and it’s my sons birthday! Turn it back on!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t fix the escalator. There will probably be a service man her any minute.”

Customer: “I saw you pressing the buttons on that machine!” *points to the espresso machine* “You were laughing and then the escalator stopped. And now my son is stuck. It’s his birthday!”

Me: “Ma’am, this is an espresso machine. It makes coffee. I laughed because I’m in a good mood. There will be someone her soon to–”

Customer: “Then make another coffee, and start it again! And wipe that smile off your face!”

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Espresso Yourself Can Cause A Latte Problems