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    Going From Bad To Warsaw

    | West Sussex, England, UK | At The Checkout, Bad Behavior, Language & Words, Top

    (I am half Polish, and fluent in the language, but have lived in England all my life so speak without an accent. Between my degree and my masters, I get a job in a pound shop—everything costs £1—to earn some money. I am on tills and call two young women forward.)

    Me: “Can I help you?”

    (The customer dumps her items on the counter without acknowledging me, and then turns to her friend and speaks in Polish.)

    Customer #1: “Look at this dumb b****! How bad must your life get to work here?!”

    Customer #2: *in Polish* “I know! And she judges us for being Polish! All English people are so racist!”

    Me: *in Polish* “That will be £7, please.”

    Customers #1 & #2: *both turn red and hurry out of the shop*

    Cold Hard Cash(iers)

    | GA, USA | At The Checkout, Awesome Workers, Bad Behavior, Food & Drink

    (My mother is a cashier at a popular liquor store. I stop by to drop off her lunch. The credit card machines have shut down and the manager is in the back trying to get them running. The employees have let their customers know they will have to pay cash until then. Some customers leave for another store; most went next door to the bank ATM to get cash. One customer, however, isn’t particularly happy about this.)

    Customer: “So, you’re telling me I have to walk all the way over to the ATM to get cash?”

    (Note: the bank is right next door.)

    Mom: “I’m sorry, sir, but the credit card machine is down for the moment. You can go to the ATM or go to another store.”

    Customer: *scoffs* “Fine.”

    (He leaves the store, and comes back a few minutes later with cash in his hand.)

    Customer: “I had to pay three dollars to get money out of that ATM! I better get a discount!”

    Mom: “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t have that authority.”

    Customer: “I don’t care! I better get one!”

    (He picks up a $50 Scotch and returns to my mom’s register; she rings him up.)

    Customer: “Hey, you didn’t give me my discount!”

    Mom: “Sir, I’m sorry but I can’t give you three dollars off because you made the choice to go to the ATM.”

    Customer: “B****, give me three dollars off!”

    (The store goes absolutely silent, and everyone is watching the exchange.)

    Me: “Don’t talk to my mother that way.”

    Mom: “I’ll tell you what I can do.” *takes scotch and puts it under her stand* “I can refuse to sell this to you.”

    Customer: “I want to see your manager!”

    Mom: “Fine.” *calls manager*

    Manager: *comes over* “What’s the problem?”

    Customer: “Your employee said, and I quote, “I won’t sell you s***!”

    Me: “No, she didn’t!”

    Mom: “Sir, I did not use that language towards you.”

    Customer #2: “I’m a witness, and she didn’t say that.”

    Customer: “I WANT A DISCOUNT!”

    Manager: “Sir, leave. Now.”

    Customer: “Give me my discount!”

    Manager: “If you don’t leave right now I will call the cops.”

    Customer: “Fine, call the cops! I don’t care!”

    (The manager, Customer #2 and I, pull out our cell phones.)

    Customer: “I’m never coming back!” *runs out of the store*

    Me: “What was his problem?”

    Customer #2: “That guy needs to pull up his skirt.” *smiles at my mom* “I’ll keep coming back for the wonderful customer service, and tough-as-nails cashiers!”

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    Tip Of The Entree Iceberg

    | San Francisco, CA, USA | Awesome Customers, Bad Behavior, Food & Drink, Top

    (It is a busy Saturday night. During the dinner rush, I have been dealing with a table of two 20-something year old men. The blonde one has found something to complain about every time I’ve walked by while the brown-haired one just blushes and stays quiet. They’ve finished their meal.)

    Blonde Man: “Are you new here?”

    Me: “No, sir. I’ve been a waitress here for two years and three years at [other restaurant] prior.”

    Blonde Man: “Then you have no excuse for how terrible this service was. The salad was wilty, and the entree was way too cold, and you were nowhere to be found. Plus, this place is far too noisy; I could barely hear myself speak! Honestly, I get better service at a fast food place.”

    Me: “I’m sorry you feel that way. While there isn’t much I can do about the noise, I did offer to bring you different food before, but you said no.”

    Blonde Man: *waves me off* “Just bring me the check, and try not to be so slow about it for once.”

    (I go and get the check, but when I return, the brown-haired man stands up and hands me a $20 bill.)

    Brown-haired Man: “Here, this is your tip. He wasn’t going to give you one. As a former waiter myself, I thought you were doing a perfectly fine job. My food was great, and the service was fast even though you’re so busy right now.”

    (He turns to his blonde companion.)

    Brown-haired Man: “People like you made my job so much worse, especially for making us work that much harder for no tip. So thanks for the meal, but you can go ahead and delete my number because there will be no second date. And by the way, potjevleesch is supposed to be served cold, you idiot.”

    (With that, he left the restaurant without his date. It made the whole night worth it, to see that blonde man speechless for once.)

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