Unfiltered Story #192303

(Our shop is located across the street from a correctional facility, so although it’s rare for our customers to give us problems we do get some less savory types from time to time. It’s about half an hour to close and I’m migrating between the kitchen and the front lobby getting chores done when a scruffy-looking man with shabby clothes and a backpack walks in. I overhear him talking with my female co-worker at the register trying to get free food, then trying to trade what he claims is a Rolex as payment. Unsuccessful, he walks over to the food counter.)

Man: “I just don’t know why you can’t get me any f***ing food, I’m hungry!”

Co-worker: “Sir, I need you to not swear at me. I’m not allowed to give out food for free.”

(This kind of exchange goes on for a few minutes but since the manager was around I go about my work. Shortly after, though, she comes to tell me she’s nervous about him since he’s clearly acting out of sorts and has some sort of metal implement with him, which is apparently a spoon and a knife taped together at the handles. I and the prep cook head out to the lobby so we can make it obvious we’re keeping an eye on him while we fake cleaning up.)

Man: *Constantly talking to himself and us about art, the government, groundwater, and aliens. Finally gets angry enough about not having food that he grabs one of the salt shakers and dumps a bunch of it on the floor.*

Me: “Sir, I need to ask you not to do that. We’re trying to close up soon.”

(Seemingly disturbed by the idea that people saw what he was doing, he walks out of the restaurant but stops next to the dirt-filled planter outside. Evidently he hasn’t expressed his anger to his satisfaction because he decides to spit in the planter. Still dissatisfied, he kicks the planter. I guess this still wasn’t enough since he starts stabbing the dirt with his improvised tableware weapon. Not wanting him to actually start damaging anything, I just walk closer to the door so I am clearly visible. This, again, freaks him out a bit and he pops his head in the door.)

Man: *Hastily slurred words I can’t make out* “-cuz you gotta-” *more nonsense* “-man I’m gonna make sure-” *more of the same*

Me: *Just smiling and waving* “Uh-huh, time to go now. G’night. G’bye.”

(He eventually left.)