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    Five Feet Of Fury

    | AZ, USA | Bad Behavior, Top, Wild & Unruly

    (My girlfriend and I are at a friends shop looking for new training pads for her. She is a 5′ tall blond, who weighs 95 lbs. I am 6’1″ and 175 lbs, and the owner is about 6’4″ and 200 lbs. All of us have done different forms of martial arts for over 20 combined years. I am making small talk with the owner by the register, while my girlfriend is looking at more pads.)

    Customer: “Hey, where are your training pads?”

    Owner: “Just past the speed bags, on the right.”

    (About a minute later, we hear a small crash, followed by arguing. We rush over to find the man trying to grab the pads from my girlfriend.)

    Customer: “You stupid b****; give me those!”

    (He finally manages to pull them out of her hand.)

    Girlfriend: “H*** no, I got them first; give them back!”

    Customer: “You don’t even need them. I have a fight in two weeks!”

    Girlfriend: “Then you should have thought about that sooner!”

    (The customer finally notices us; he turns to the owner.)

    Customer: “Hey, I need to pay for these pads.”

    Owner: “No, she had them first. You need to give them back to her.”

    Customer: “No, she is just a dumb b**** who need to learn her place. Get me your manager.”

    Owner: “I am the owner here, and I’m going to insist you give the pads back to the young lady and leave.”

    Customer: “I need these pads! Who’s going to make me?”

    (My girlfriend is fuming, and it is pretty obvious. I cut in.)

    Me: “Just give her the pads back, man.”

    Customer: “What are you going to do?”

    Me: “Nothing, but she will.”

    (I point to my girlfriend; the customer laughs.)

    Customer: “That puny b**** couldn’t if she wanted to!”

    Girlfriend: “Just give them back you a**-hole!

    Customer: “You going to make me?”

    (My girlfriend kicks the man’s legs out from under him, grabs his arm, and puts it in a hold.)

    Customer: “Ow! You stupid b****; let go of me!”

    (She holds him down for a few minutes, until he starts to calm down.)

    Girlfriend: “Now, are you going to shut up?”

    Customer: *meekly* “…yes.”

    (She lets the man up, and he scampers out. My girlfriend then turns to the owner, and talks like nothing happened.)

    Girlfriend: “Okay, I think I’m all ready.”

    (Two weeks later, my gym had an exhibition with another gym. Guess who was my opponent?)

    Management Is Like Walking A Tight-(G)rope

    | The Hague, Netherlands | Bad Behavior, Food & Drink, Top

    (I’m working the evening shift. The head waiter in another section of the restaurant tells me there’s a problem with some customer harassing the waitresses. I offer to switch places. The offending customer is quickly spotted; he is busy groping a waitress as I walk in.)

    Me: “Sir, I’m gonna have to ask that you stop doing that. We’re trying to work here.”

    (The customer grumbles, clearly irritated. I walk off, thinking it’s resolved. Five minutes later, I watch as a waitress comes to the customer’s table to put down some food, and the customer reaches out for the waitress’ behind. I jump between them.)

    Me: “Sir, I already told you to stop it. You didn’t listen the first time. I’m now going to ask you to leave the restaurant.”

    Customer: “I demand to see a manager!”

    (I’m just a waiter, but I take a chance.)

    Me: “That would be me. Now as I told you, the only solution I see is you leaving the restaurant.”

    Customer: “I’m not going anywhere!”

    Me: “No, you’re coming with me to the front right now. You’re going to pay for your meal and leave!”

    (The customer is still refusing. With the aid of another waiter, we pull the customer out of his seat and bring him to the front, where he finally pays. The rest of his party are horribly embarrassed.)

    Manager: “Yeah, I need to see you about something. You pretended to be a manager?”

    Me: “I’m sorry, I—”

    Manager: “I heard the story. That guy got off easy! I’m glad you managed to make him pay for his food!”

    The Regular Is Very Regular

    | Armstrong, BC, Canada | Health & Body

    (One of our regular customers is a man in his 60s. He comes in every day for cigarettes or coffee.)

    Regular: “I need to use your bathroom.”

    Me: “Sure, no problem.”

    (He heads to the back and enters the bathroom. I help some customers. A few minutes later he comes out.)

    Regular: “You know, I had to go poo. I guess I wasn’t quite fast enough; I pulled down my pants and it just came out. I got half of it in my underwear, and caught some in my hands.”

    (There is a long, awfully awkward silence between my coworker and I.)

    Regular: “Well, I’ll see you later!

    (He leaves.)

    Coworker: “Don’t worry about cleaning the bathroom; you’re new. I’ll do it.”

    (My coworker goes to clean the bathroom; I can hear him moaning.)

    Coworker: “Eww! He got his mess in the sink! How could he do that? The sink is FOUR FEET away from the toilet!”

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