I take an order over the phone.

Me: “How can I help you?”

Caller: “Bacon, egg, and cheese on a plain bagel.”

Me: “Yeah, I can have that made for you. What’s your name and call-back number?”

Caller: *Angrily yelling* “BACON, EGG, AND CHEESE ON A PLAIN BAGEL!” *Click*

Later:

Customer: “Where’s my bacon, egg, and cheese on a plain bagel?”

Me: “We don’t have one of those premade.”

Customer: “I called ahead! Why isn’t it ready?!”

Me: “I’m not placing an order without a name and call-back number, especially for a bacon, egg, and cheese; we serve dozens an hour. Also, you didn’t even let me ask what cheese you wanted and how you wanted your egg. Also, because you shouted at me, I won’t be serving you ever.”

Customer: “Call over your manager!”

Me: “I am the manager.”

Customer: “Get the owner, then!”

Owner: *Shouting from the back* “Go f*** yourself; I’m busy!”

He stormed out, and our world was a better place…

A rude customer seated in my section starts snapping his fingers to get my attention.

Me: “Which way did you see him take off?”

I then act like I’m looking all over the restaurant.

Me: “Come here, puppy! Where’d you run off to, boy?! What’s the dog’s name?”

Customer: *Confused* “I don’t have a dog!”

Me: *Looking him dead in the eyes* “Then why are you snapping for one?”

Customer: *Now a little sheepish* “I… uh… I was calling for you.”

Me: “If you want service, then treat me like a human being.”

He apologized and gave me a great tip.

Related:
A Bark As Bad As The Bite

I’m a chef at a seafood restaurant that’s always running out of cocktail forks. We bought some nice forks to start with, which is probably why everyone keeps stealing them. We’re known for oysters and shellfish platters, and we’re always so low on the forks that the experienced servers have actually started to hide them in places where they can get them when we’re completely out in the dish room.

It sucks, but the general manager is a cheapskate d****ebag and won’t order any more.

One of the servers comes over to me at the back one night.

Server: “There’s a whole bunch of cocktail forks missing on my table, the large one. I saw a woman put them in her purse.”

Me: “Hey, [General Manager], did you hear that? What shall we do about it?”

General Manager: “Nothing. Just give them the check.”

Me: “If you won’t do anything, then I will.”

General Manager: “There’s nothing to be done! Just give them their check.”

Fine. I add an “OPEN MERCHANDISE” item to their check for $25, which is about my cost for a dozen forks. I head out myself and hand over the check to one of the gentlemen at the table.

Customer: “What’s this $25 charge for?”

Time to explain it to him, in front of everyone, loudly enough that even the tables next to theirs know what’s happening.

Me: “They’re for the expensive cocktail forks that someone at your table has in their purse.”

He stares at me for a second, and I stare right back. After a few tense seconds, the man looks at the older woman.

Customer: “Mom. Put the forks back. Now.”

The following Monday morning, I get an angry call from the Vice President of Operations at the corporate office asking me to explain myself, as the old woman has complained.

Me: “I am looking out for the best interests of the restaurant, and stealing is stealing.”

We went back and forth for a little while, and the conversation ended with me being allowed to order more cocktail forks, ramekins, and teaspoons whenever I needed to, within a maximum amount every month. The general manager was looped in shortly after.

I found out a couple of years later how very close I came to getting fired that day.

My manager assigns some delivery runs to me.

Manager: “Save this customer until last. Check the delivery notes; it’s your call.”

I check the note left by that customer.

Note: “If you stop by the grocery store and get a six-pack of [Beer Brand], I’ll tip you $50!”

I figure, “Why not?” I get to the grocery store and that beer is actually on sale, so I get two six-packs. I bring them to the customer.

Customer: “Holy s***! You got two six-packs?! That means I double the tip!”

Me: “Oh, no, it’s fine. I—”

He stuffs $120 into my hand.

Customer: “That’s $100 tip, and that should cover the beer, too!”

Me: “The beer was on sale. I don’t—”

Customer: “I know that! And you still gave both to me! My mom is saying there are no more decent people in the world, and you just proved her wrong! That’s priceless! Thank you!”

He closed the door, and I was left there a little confused. Did I just pass a test?

I speak just enough Spanish that I can help Spanish-speaking customers, especially with prices. One day, this family comes up asking me for price checks using a translator.

Me: *In Spanish* “I can speak limited Spanish.”

This makes them very pleased. I’m price-checking things for them and giving them advice on where similar things are and what is and isn’t on clearance — just doing my job. All of a sudden, a woman behind me starts speaking loudly.

Customer: “HELLO?! DO. YOU. SPEAK. ENGLISH?!”

Me: *Turning around* “Yes, of course. I’m just busy with these customers right now.”

The customer turns to her husband.

Customer: “I don’t know why they waste their time with people who can’t even speak English.”

I ignore the comment and just continue helping the family because I’m not entertaining this BS. After another minute, I finish with the family and turn over to the other customer:

Customer: “What’s your name? Who’s your manager?”

I tell her all the information.

Customer: “Good, because that was f****** ridiculous to just ignore me when I can at least speak this country’s language!”

Me: “It’s a shame you put so much pride in speaking English but never stopped to learn its manners!”

Customer: “What did you say to me?!”

Me: “I said it in perfect English, ma’am. Have a bueno day!”