Customer: “So, where do you all go when you’re not on your shift?”

Me: “I go home.”

Customer: “Oh, like upstairs?”

Me: “No, to my house. I live with my parents still.”

Customer: “Wait, how do you live there? Don’t you, like, live in the casino?”

Me: “Yes, I sleep under a slot machine.”

I guess Las Vegas is only made of hotels and casinos. The staff of those places don’t live anywhere; they evaporate at the end of every day.

Related:
Because Retail Workers Aren’t Human, Part 3
Because Retail Workers Aren’t Human, Part 2
Because Retail Workers Aren’t Human

It’s the very last shift of my two-week notice from a pizza shop. The owner of the shop is a family friend whom I’ve known my entire life. He’s often called me “the son he never had”, so you could say I could get away with a lot. However, I’ve been nothing but an exemplary employee since day one.

We have a customer who is best described as difficult. He loves to call at the last minute to place an order for delivery. Due to being understaffed, for the last two hours, we only have one employee, so we stop doing deliveries and have pick-up only.

He’ll say his order and address and then hang up. When we don’t show up within five minutes (he’s a twenty-minute drive from us), he’ll call back and shout through the phone. He’ll demand a free pizza to be delivered the next morning. The owner is, sadly, a bit of a pushover and always caves in.

I’ve just finished cleaning and closing everything up a bit early. It’s my last thirty minutes, and I have zero f***s left to give. Then, the phone rings…

Me: “Hello, this is [Pizza Place]. How can I help you?”

Caller: “I’d like a large Hawaiian, stuffed crust, delivered to [address].”

Me: “Sir, as we have told you many times, we do not deliver after—”

Caller: *Click*

I hang up the phone slowly and stare at it with eyes full of fire. I feel like I don’t even blink. I only count the seconds leading up to five minutes. Of course, at five minutes on the f****** dot, the burdening chime of the ringtone starts up. I pick it up slowly. My hands shake as my soul prepares to check out. I don’t even say my opening greeting.

Caller: “I ordered a pizza from you half an hour ago! You people are always late! I don’t know why I even waste my time with you! I demand a free pizza delivered to me tomorrow at 8:00 am!”

Something snaps in my brain. I can feel a personality that I buried deep down finally claw its way out. A psychotic grin forms on my face as I hold the phone to my ear.

Me: “Nope.” *Click*

I hang up and continue my evil grin, staring at nothing. The phone rings not even thirty seconds later.

Caller: “Did you just f****** hang up on me?!”

Me: “Yep.” *Click*

I lean against the counter and light up a mental cigarette, so to speak. I start to eat a pizza I made myself for dinner. The phone rings again on cue after my first bite. 

Me: *Chewing food loudly* “Whatchu want?”

Caller: “Are you f****** kidding me?! How dare you?! I’m going to file a complaint and have your dumb a*** fired!”

I channel Walter White with a crotch grab.

Me: “How about you go ahead and file my BALLS, TOO!” *Click*

I start shadowboxing in place. The phone rings again, which I ignore. I sit down and enjoy my pizza for the remainder of my shift. His calls are coming in nonstop. Naturally, I ignore them all. Finally, at the very last minute, as I’m walking out, I answer.

Me: “Eat a d**k, [Customer].” *Click*

The next day, I get a call from the owner.

Owner: “So, I received a troubling complaint this morning. Did you by chance take a call from [Customer]?”

Me: “Nope.”

Owner: *Short pause* “Well, good enough for me! I wish you all the best in the future, and there’s always a job here waiting for you if you need it!” *Click*

I do not condone my behavior as an employee — unless you are absolutely sure you will one hundred percent get away with it!

I used to work as an admin for a large company department. I was often tasked with planning events for the team and corporate dinners, especially when we were all sent to Vegas for conventions.

It was the last event I planned as an admin before I went full-time into project management. It was in Vegas like most of the events I planned for my teams. The last night we were there, I planned a big dinner at Il Forniao at New York New York. There were about forty of us including the regional manager (who was my boss) and another manager (who was also my boss). My mom was with me on this trip and came to dinner with us. Much food was eaten, and much booze was imbibed.

One of the PMs decided it would be great to order ouzo for everyone to take a shot of. So, about thirty shots arrived… when there were twenty people left. (Some of the guys had money burning a hole in their pockets and others were going to check out the strip clubs.) There were about eighteen of my team (including both bosses), my mom, and me. Neither my mom nor I drink. But tonight, my mom decided she wanted to try this strange clear liquid with a coffee bean in it. I warned her. On the count of three, everyone bolted the shot (except me, who knows better). My mom took a sip and coughed up a lung. Everyone laughed and handed her glasses of water.

Then, the desserts arrived. Forty desserts. Now ten people. My regional manager left with a few others, and my other boss took off with the rest. Now, it was my mom and me, forty desserts… and the check. Company protocol (like with most companies) dictated that the boss was supposed to sign for it. I was technically the lowest person on the totem pole. I did have the company Amex. My mom (who also isn’t a dessert person) asked them to pack up about ten of the desserts. She was actually a bit drunk. I signed the check and added a tip. (Hey, they did me a solid when I had to tell them to make a meal for a vegetarian and a vegan.)

As my mom and I were leaving, toting a bag full of packaged desserts, we were followed by a crazy happy group of waiters who couldn’t believe I overtipped.

Waiters: “Please, miss, any time, come back! We will be more than happy to serve you! Miss, come back and we will give you a free meal!”

I never got my free meal. My bosses got into huge trouble for letting their admin sign off on a $5,000 meal. And sending in an expense report about it.

My mom? After our meetings were over the next morning, I wandered back to the room to see if my mom wanted to head onto the Strip to check out stuff. She was sitting in bed, eating four desserts, and binge-watching “Charmed.”

My dad took my brother-in-law and me to the Air Races in Reno, Nevada a couple of years ago. When we checked into the motel, my dad’s credit card was rejected. Mine — issued through the same company — went through without a problem. Neither of us had told the company we were going to be traveling, although we both did within the next half hour.

The way I figured it was that for the past few years when my parents went on vacation, they used their fifth-wheel trailer; they didn’t stay in motels or hotels. When my wife and I went on vacation, we did stay in motels and hotels. So, for my dad, staying in a motel 400 miles from home was suspicious behavior. For me, it was perfectly normal.

CONTENT WARNING: Abusive Language

I work in a well-known coffee shop. We have one regular who always manages to give everyone a very hard time. One day after receiving her order, she storms back in to belittle me personally on how it wasn’t made correctly. She is particularly over the line today. I’m a very timid person and don’t handle confrontation well.

Customer: “Excuse me?! This is not what I ordered! I swear, every time I come in here! Who’s the idiot who hired you thinking you know anything about coffee!?”

There’s a young man behind her. He’s been on his phone minding his business. All the other customers look away, pretending that they’re distracted to not get involved. As soon as she starts, the young man looks up from his phone and begins staring at her. I can’t read his face, but he’s watching her intently without blinking.

Me: “I’m so sorry. I’ll be more than happy to make you a fresh one free of charge.”

Customer: “Don’t bother. I’m already late, thanks to how slow you were before. I’m not gonna wait for you to mess up again. I don’t understand why young people like you are so stupid! I asked for extra whipped cream! It’s like you didn’t put any at all!”

I can already feel tears forming in my eyes. The young man is still staring at her with a poker face. It’s like he’s studying her.

Me: “I’m sorry… I…”

Customer: “Your sorry its not going to fix my already ruined morning! Do me a favor and find another job. I’ll be complaining about you. Just get me a refund!”

While I’m now crying, I scramble to give her a refund. She turns around and catches the eye of the young man.

Customer: “Sorry these stupid employees are holding you up.”

He lets a few awkward seconds go by. Still staring without blinking, he finally speaks.

Young Man: “You do realize how pathetic you are, right?”

Customer: “Um… Excuse me?”

Young Man: “I’ll repeat myself. You. Are. Pathetic.”

The whole shop becomes so quiet as they are now watching this situation. The customer looks back at the man like she’s in shock.

Customer: “I…”

Young Man: “I mean, of all the things that matter in this world, you’re whining like a little b**** over a coffee. Is your existence so miserable that you have to come in here and treat others horribly because your disgusting fat a** didn’t get your fill of whipped cream?”

The customer can’t even speak. She’s making a sound like she chokes on trying to get words out. My coworker and I are watching dumbfounded between what he’s saying and the fact that his face is still completely emotionless.

Young Man: “How old are you? Did your parents just not bother raising you to be a decent human being? Clearly, they never gave a s*** about you. Because all I see before me is a middle-aged pig who is behaving like a five-year-old. Do you not have anything to live for besides being a cancerous parasite? I don’t think anybody likes you or cares about you. I know for a fact you don’t have any friends because there’s no way in h*** anybody can tolerate you even in the slightest. You’re nothing but a useless waste of space on this planet.”

He then slowly starts taking steps toward her with his next words, stopping when he’s just inches from her face.

Young Man: “The whole point of your existence at this point is to waste everyone’s oxygen with your every… pathetic… breath. Now, why don’t you stop antagonizing these poor workers and get your miserable filthy a** the f*** out of my sight?”

The customer is shaking while staring at him. She grips her chest like she’s about to have a heart attack and starts slumping over to a nearby seat. The young man then looks back at his phone while he walks up to the counter to me.

Young Man: *Looking up with a blank stare* “Hi. Can I get a Danish, please?”

I ring him up quickly. He thanks me and ends up leaving a very generous tip. He leaves without even acknowledging the woman, who is now beginning to cry with the most depressed sounds I’ve ever heard in my life while rocking herself back and forth. My coworker and I, and even a few customers, sit beside her and begin to try and cheer her up, bringing her some free food and drinks. She just keeps repeating the same words while crying her heart out.

Customer: “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

We never did see the young man again. Some time passed before we saw the customer return. Since then, she has been nothing but cordial and polite to everyone, even very patient when mistakes were made.

I no longer work there, and it’s been many years. But I still wrestle with this situation to this day. Was that young man supposed to be a hero here? Or was he a necessary evil?