I recently stayed at a hotel, where conference organisers had booked me into a wheelchair-accessible room. It was round the back of the building down a lane-wide ramp with no sides, handrails, or lighting. Even in a wheelchair, I wouldn’t have been able to get to or from it unless someone was there to push me.

The hotel’s answer was that there was a dedicated disabled parking bay nearby so I could just drive to the front of the building, hope to find suitable parking, and walk across the busy carpark every time I wanted to go to breakfast, reception, the coffee shop, meetings or anywhere.

When I pointed out I didn’t have a car and would need to call a taxi each way to take me from my room to reception and back, I got the obligatory “deer in the headlights” look.

It’s not really the hotel’s fault. Despite it being completely unsuitable for me, who can walk (sort of) and would be on my own without a car most of the time, I believe the room was quite spacious and well-equipped.

The requirement I had asked for was accessible washing and toilet facilities, so I ended up with a smaller and more basic (but still accessible) room, but at least I could make my own way around.

They were also good enough to provide a proper ergonomic computer chair so I could sit in my room and work.

Watching the cogs whirring was fun; I don’t think it had ever occurred to the managers that without a car, or at the very least a fairly meaty powered chair, there was no safe way to go to and from their premium “accessible” rooms.

I am working with a coworker, and we’re both experiencing a couple of blessed minutes of downtime. We’re both big anime fans, so we’re chatting about the recent episodes of a show we’re both watching, “Attack On Titan”. The show is known for being quite intense and putting its characters through a lot.

Me: “Can you believe everything that they’ve been putting up with this season?”

Coworker: “I know! I keep saying, ‘We just can’t catch a break!'”

As we’re talking, an older customer is walking past and is glaring at us.

Customer: “That’s the problem with your generation! Always complaining about how hard you’ve got it! You always need little breaks! I don’t know what you think you’ve got to complain about, but back in my day, we just got on with it and didn’t expect a pat on the back for the privilege.”

Coworker: “Oh, sir, we weren’t complaining about our jobs. We’re just talking about a show we watch where the characters have to endure a lot, and we were feeling sorry for them.”

Customer: “Let me guess. They’re struggling because they have to work a full eight hours and they’ve run out of mental health days?” 

Coworker: “No, they have to fight man-eating giants who have just consumed all their friends and family in increasingly violent and disturbing ways.”

Customer: “Hmph! Sounds stupid! Back in my day, shows were about real things! Starsky & Hutch! Hawaii Five-O! And the real one, not that new one where everyone is Asian!”

Me: “Sir, did you need help with anything in the store?”

Customer: “No! I can do it myself! You should all just stop moaning!”

Coworker: “We will… try, sir.”

And off he went, looking for new things to grumble about.

I’m at a large bulk store with my mother-in-law, and we’re looking for clothes for my kids. We can’t find something we want in the right size, so we ask one of the employees if there’s anywhere else it could be.

Employee: “There’s another table up by the entrance, but if it’s not there, we don’t have it. I’m sorry.”

Me: “I already checked there, thank you. And it’s not like you’re purposefully hiding it from me.”

There’s a look of sheer and utter gratitude as she responds:

Employee: “Yes! Thank you!”

Her demeanor change made me really sad for the state of our service industry. I worked retail for years, so I get it.

A customer orders a latte and then sits down next to it browsing their phone for over half an hour. They take a sip, look disgusted, and storm back up to the counter.

Customer: “My coffee has gone cold! Now it’s lost all its caffeine!” 

Related:
Making A Caffeine Scene

I am a manager making my way between departments in our department store. A customer stops me and pulls me aside.

Customer: “Could you please tell me why you’re allowing [N-words] to be parading around the store with their pants down?”

Me: “Sir, your word choice is beyond unacceptable.”

Customer: “Calm down! I wasn’t saying it to them! But aren’t you going to do anything? We can all see their underwear!” 

Me: “I’m not the customer dress code police, and I don’t intend to start being one.”

Old Man: “Why do you hate your own race?”

Well, that came out of nowhere! I stare directly at the customer and make intense eye contact.

Me: “No, it’s race-ists. I hate racists!”

Old Man: *Pauses* “This whole country is becoming a joke!” *Power-walks away*