Category: Bad Behavior

Park That Attitude

| VA, USA | Bad Behavior, Crazy Requests, Transportation

(I am visiting a popular tourist area on a busy day. I turn into a lot that you can park in that is attended by a single employee. There are other lots, but this one is closer to the attractions, which is why it is full up. There is a sign that says that you pay in order to exit, but I’m not sure there is a free spot. I stop by his booth first.)

Me: “Hey, the lot looks pretty full. Would I still be charged if I don’t find a spot?”

Attendant: “Nah. I’ll keep an eye on you. If you don’t find a spot, I won’t charge you.”

Me: “Thank you!”

(I drive through and start looking. A few minutes in, I can’t find a space and another car enters the lot to do the same thing. I decide to leave. The other car stops by a median for whatever reason. On my way out, a space opens up near the exit and I am happy about my good luck finding a spot. The other car sees me and zooms over.)

Driver: “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!”

Me: “Huh? I parked.”

(I walk away. I’m not interested in talking to this guy. The attendant is watching and can hear everything.)

Driver: “That was my space!”

Me: *incredulous look* “What? You were on the other side of the lot. Don’t be ridiculous.”

(I keep walking. At this point, his passenger gets out of the car.)

Passenger: “That was a rotten thing to do!”

Me: “Lady, I got here first and found a spot first. Go across the street.”

Passenger: *to her husband* “Can you believe this?!” *to me* “You spoiled brat! Get in your car and move it right now!”

(I’m 30. I haven’t been called a brat in quite a while. The lady isn’t all that much older than me and I don’t look much younger than my age.)

Me: “Yeah, that’s not happening. Get back in your car and drive away. You are both being absolutely ridiculous.”

Driver: “If you don’t move your car, I’ll f****** move it myself.”

(At this point, the attendant walks over.)

Attendant: “Sir, you need to keep moving. If you can’t find a space, leave the lot.”

Driver: “Don’t f****** tell me what to do! You saw this whore steal the spot from us just now!”


(The attendant stuck his arm out in a gesture of “Hey, I got this.”)

Attendant: “That language is out of line. I’m asking you to leave immediately.”

(The passenger steps toward him with her arms out.)

Passenger: “Are you kidding me?! You SAW what happened! Do something about it!”

Attendant: “I did see what happened. This lady got here six minutes before you. She found a space while you were attempting to park on the median. I’ve taken your license plate down and if you don’t leave, I will be calling the police to remove you from the lot.”

Passenger: “[Driver], Can you believe this?! What has the world come to!”

Driver: “F****** incredible.”

Passenger: “I want to talk to your supervisor. You give me his number and I’m going to tell him what kind of person you are.”

Attendant: “I AM the supervisor and I’m politely declining your unnecessary feedback. Leave immediately.”

(The passenger is absolutely livid when she gets back inside. Her husband is just cursing loudly. The driver gets to the gate, which is blocked off, of course. The attendant takes his sweet time getting there to let him out. I hang back to watch the exchange. The driver has a few more choice words for the attendant before he is let out. I wait for the car to leave and walk up to his booth.)

Me: “Are you seriously the supervisor or do you have a boss that I could call and tell him what kind of person you are?”

Attendant: *smiling* “Nah, here’s my company’s number. They own all the lots here.”

(I did have a nice time and didn’t have to worry about having to hike back to my car since I found such a good space. Needless to say, I gave the attendant a nice little tip on my way out!)

Made A Blood Enemy That Day

| Margate, Kent, UK | Bad Behavior, Language & Words, Prank

(My job mainly involves emptying sanitary bins in ladies toilets. I’m about to service a bakery when I see a couple get out of a car and go inside.)

Man: *with thick Spanish accent* “One loaf of [bread].”

Baker: “Okay, that will be a few minutes. There’s just some in the oven.”

Me: “Hi, just here to do the bins.”

Baker: “Okay, go through.”

(As I go through I hear the man speak again.)

Man: *in Spanish* “What a loser to do a job like that.”

(Once I’m done, I went back out to my van. The couple had gone but their car was still there. I went back inside and asked to borrow some red food colouring. They let me take a very small bottle and I went back to my van, grabbed a tampon that I use to stock machines with, dipped the end in the food colouring, and then left it on the window of his car. When I next went to the bakery they told me they got a giggle out of his reaction.)

Needs To Attend Electoral College

| WI, USA | Bad Behavior, Language & Words, Technology

(I’m an elections inspector; which is just a fancy way of saying I work at the polls during election days. This election, we are expecting enough of a crowd that we put the registrations and the actual voting in two separate rooms. Furthermore, we separate the registration process into three different steps, each at a different table, to try and minimize bottlenecks. I’m working alongside my mother at the first table. A woman comes in to register, clearly ticked off already. Mom starts asking questions to make sure she has the necessary paperwork for the process. It goes smoothly until the woman shows us what she has for her proof of residence: an ad from the local pizza joint. The law is very clear on what we can and cannot accept as POR, and advertisements are in the “cannot” category.)

Mom: “I’m sorry, I’m afraid advertisements aren’t valid for proof of residence. Do you ha—”

Woman: “You’re saying I can’t vote?!”

Mom: “That’s not what I’m saying; we just need to have something official as proof of residence. Now that could be a utility bill, a bank statement, maybe a—”

Woman: “Everything’s in my husband’s name.”

(I silently cringe at that. Having her husband’s name on the documents also won’t qualify for POR, because there’s no proof that she herself lives there.)

Mom: “Is there anything on this list that might be in your name?” *shows her the list of acceptable documents — she doesn’t even look at it* “Is it possible your car’s registration might have your name and current address on it? Or maybe you have a—”

(The woman snatches up her papers and storms out of the room in a huff. Mom and I just shrug and focus on helping the next people in line. About 20 minutes later the woman comes storming back in.)

Woman: “HERE!” *slams a very crumpled sheet of paper onto the table*

Mom: “Perfect! Okay, now you’re ready for the next step. If you could go to—”

(Without waiting for the rest of the directions, the woman grabs her papers and gets in line. Unfortunately, she skipped step #2 and went straight to the line for step #3, which is for people who already have their registration form filled out. While some people do bring the form in with them, most don’t, and so step #2 involves filling out that form. Mom tries to redirect her.)

Mom: “Ma’am, that line is for if you already have the form filled out. Just to be sure, did you—”


(Just then, the person manning step #2 gets her attention and directs her to a console. I turn to my mom and mutter.)

Me: “Well, since we don’t have X-ray vision…” *shrugs*

(Mom has already noticed another voter coming in and so has turned her attention on them. I do the same, but out of the corner of my eye I do see the woman spin back around to face us.)

Woman: “You know, you’re a b****!”

(After she was gone (she did finally get registered and was able to vote) and the rush had slowed to a trickle, I wrote everything up in the incident report, just in case she tried to claim we’d been blocking her from voting. Mom reads over my shoulder.)

Mom: “Is that what she said? I wasn’t even listening at that point.” *thinks about it* “You know, I do believe that’s the first time I’ve ever been called that to my face. Considering I’m tech support, that’s a pretty good record!”

(Fortunately, that woman was the nastiest person we had to deal with that day. Later on, we helped a brand-new citizen register to vote for the first time ever. She was grinning from ear to ear, and showing off her citizenship certificate to anybody who stood still long enough. It was a nice reminder of why I put myself through this every election!)

Repeatedly Unthankful

| Davie, FL, USA | Bad Behavior, Crazy Requests, Holidays

(I am supervising Thanksgiving day at our restaurant and since it is one of the most busiest days of the year, I am stuck at the host stand. We are filled up with reservations from 10 am to 11 pm while any walk-ins have to wait two or more hours for a table or cancellation. I have a very long line of reservations trying to check in when a lady of about 55 shoves her way through and starts saying something in Spanish.)

Me: “I’m sorry but I don’t speak Spanish. How can I help you?”

Customer: *grunts and sighs angrily now that she has to speak English* “I have a reservation and I would like to be seated now.”

Me: “No problem. But this line is all reservations that need to check in. You would have to wait your turn.”

Customer: *looks at me like I’m crazy* “But I have a reservation and I’m hungry now.”

Me: *not wanting to deal with a fight since the line was only getting longer* “Fine. What’s your name?”

Customer: *gives name while calling all the (eight) people outside* “Can this go any faster? My grandkids are very hungry.”

Me: “One moment. Let me find your reservation.” *a minute later* “Ma’am, I’m not seeing that name. What time did you make the reservation for?”

Customer: “I made it for noon.”

Me: *I try not to laugh since it is hours after that* “Ma’am, it is now 4:10. Unfortunately, we gave your table away since you were not here at 12 pm to check in.”

Customer: *looking at me like I’m an idiot* “No. You’re supposed to hold the table until I get here. Why is this so hard?”

Me: “We hold the table for 15 minutes and call you. This reservation is four hours old and for four people, not eight.”

Customer: “What’s the difference! Just give me a table NOW! Don’t make me talk to the manager.”

Me: “I am the manager on the floor today. Now, I need you to step aside so I can check these people in. You will have to wait until there’s an open table since your reservation expired at 12:15.”

Customer: “What?! Who eats Thanksgiving at noon?! Why did you think I’d be here at that time?! I want to see your boss!”

Me: “You made the reservation for 12 so we assumed you’d like to eat at that time. I will put you on the waiting list which could be two hours or so. I am the manager on the floor today since both my bosses are either cooking or home. Thank you and please step aside.” *I talk to the person behind her* “Hello, checking in?”

Customer: “I’m not finished! I demand to be seated!”

Me: *losing all patience* “You can have a seat outside and wait for your pager to go off.”

(She storms out of the building ranting and raving. She sits and they wait. I finally seat them at about 7 pm. She tries to tell the server that she is getting free apps since we lost her reservation. This is after she complains about her table. I walk over in front of her table and loudly tell the server, “No free apps or discounts. She made the error. Not us.” Her family all looks pissed off at her. She eats and is a huge pain the whole time. Then she tries to fight the 18% tip that is added on. Again, I walk over to the table.)

Me: “Ma’am… The tip is not optional. Our staff is working on a big holiday so your family can enjoy it together. It even states on our menus that the tip will be added and cannot be waived.”

(The lady had finally had enough. She and her family got up and left. 20 minutes later, her son came back in and apologized to me. He handed me $20 bucks and the server another $20. He said he was happy someone put his mom in her place instead of bending over to make her happy. I ended up taking the $20 and buying drinks for everyone who helped me with the table.)

I Handle Customers Like You For Lunch

| Brooklyn, NY, USA | Bad Behavior, Extra Stupid, Food & Drink

(I am usually the only person in the store where I work so I end up eating my lunch at the counter. This day I’ve brought three small Tupperware with cheese, crackers, and sliced apples. They are placed at the counter closest to me, a far reach for any customers, but not hidden. A customer walks up to pay for an item and I turn to get the box for it. When I turn around, he’s pulled the containers near him and it eating my lunch!)

Me: “Excuse me! That’s mine!”

Customer: “Oh! I’m sorry, I thought they were samples.”

Me: “Samples?! Of WHAT?”

Customer: “I don’t know. Just samples.”

(I pull them toward me and finish the transaction in silence as I’m both amazed and angry. When he leaves he says this gem:)

Customer: “Geez, don’t get all twisted up. How was I supposed to know they weren’t samples?!”

(I couldn’t think of anything to say to that that wasn’t incredibly impolite.)

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