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Category: Bad Behavior

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Crinkle Brain

| USA | Bad Behavior, Crazy Requests

(My coworker and I teach art classes at a craft store. We are getting ready for a class when a customer pokes her head in the door and politely asks for help, acknowledging that we are busy. We of course say, “sure!” She is holding a packet of the crinkle stuff that is often used in Easter baskets or gift bags; picture something like confetti, but in long strips instead of little pieces.)

Customer: “Do you know how long each strip is?”

(I don’t know why customers think we have this information memorized. Well, it is in a bag all smushed up, so it’s hard to tell.)

Me: “We can open up the package and look.” *knowing that the package had a sticky closure that would seal right back up in case she didn’t want to buy it*

(I open it up and show her, then seal it again and hand it back to her. While I am doing that, she keeps asking very specific, weird questions that are either simple or impossible to answer, like asking if she can cut the strips smaller and how long that will take. It’s made of paper, so it is fairly self explanatory, I would think… Then she says:)

Customer: “Thanks. But I do need one more thing from you. Show me where I got this from? I don’t remember.”

(Even though it is all the way across the store and we are busy with our class stuff, we agree. My coworker goes to show the lady and comes back fuming.)

Coworker: “That lady was f***** crazy!”

Me: “What did she do?”

Coworker: “The only reason she asked me to show her where that was is so she could get a new package because she didn’t want to buy the one you opened!”

Me: “Seriously?!”

Coworker: “Yeah, and she’s just going to take it home and rip it open anyway!”

(Mind you, I sealed it up almost perfectly to where you could barely tell it had been opened. And it was sealed completely so the item wasn’t in danger of falling out. I can understand if it was a gift or something, but it definitely wasn’t.)

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All Wrapped Up In Karma

| Toronto, ON, Canada | Bad Behavior, Food & Drink, Popular

(I’m a customer in this story. I walk into the restaurant, a semi-fast food Middle Eastern place. There’s another man, shorter and maybe in his mid-50s, ordering. The single employee is making him a salad. Also note that it’s two-for-five-dollar falafel wrap day.)

Man: “Y’know what? I’ve decided that I’ll have a falafel wrap instead.”

(The employee is already halfway through making him a salad.)

Employee: *reluctantly scraps salad and starts making a wrap*

Man: “I want chickpeas on it, and — wait, where are those chickpeas grown?”

Employee: “Well, we’re sourced by other companies. I’m not entirely sure where the

individual ingredients come from.”

Man: “Hmm, okay. What about that lettuce? There’s a bit of discolor in that! How do I know  that’s safe? I won’t pay full price for lettuce of that quality!”

(This all goes on for about fifteen minutes, asking detailed and accusing questions

about each and every ingredient. After he finally finishes…)

Man: “And I also want red onions.”

Employee: “Um, sir, we don’t sell red onions.”

Man: “Sure you do! I saw them at your other location just last week!”

Employee: “Are you sure they were real?” *gestures towards the decorative basket of plastic veggies on the counter*

Man: “Yes, I’m sure! I saw them at your other location just last week! Give me my onions!”

(This goes back and forth a few more times. Finally, the man gives in.)

Employee: “And your total is $5.65.”

Man: “What?! That is way too much! Your sign says right up there that falafel wraps are half price on Tuesdays!”

Employee: “No, what that means is that you can get two for the price of one today. You could get another for free though.”

Man: “It’s all the same anyway! You get the ingredients dirt cheap. So just—”

(And then, instant karma strikes! The man quickly looked over to the other side of the street where his car was getting a ticket. Of course this guy wouldn’t even pay for parking!)

Man: “S***!

(He runs across the busy road to try to stop the ticket, almost getting hit by a car in the process, but ultimately failing to reach the officer in time. While he’s out there complaining to the officer, the employee and I both just start to laugh at this guy.)

Employee: “You know what? The thing is that normally people are in here for two or three minutes, so even if they don’t pay for parking, they don’t usually get caught. If they’re about to, I’ll warn them. But not this guy. That officer was there for a good thirty seconds before he noticed her.”

(The ending to all of this? The man didn’t even come back to get his wrap! So instead of an extra $2.50, he had to cough up anywhere between $30 and $300!)

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Drive-Thru To The Explosive End

| CA, USA | Bad Behavior, Wild & Unruly

(I work the graveyard shift and have to clean the whole store while still taking orders. We are trained to not sell at the window for safety reasons, since the area isn’t the safest place you can be.)

Man: *knocks on the window*

Me: *cracks it open a bit* “I’m sorry, sir, but I am not allowed to sell at the window.”

Man: “Why not? I’m a paying customer. I should be able to get my food!”

Me: “Sir, the drive-thru is for cars only. These are corporate policies…”

Man: “So you’re saying I can’t buy anything here right now since I don’t have a car?”

Me: “Yes, that’s exactly what I am saying.”

Man: “But I’m hungry.”

Me: “Sir, I told you I can’t sell at the window. I have stuff I still need to clean: my dining room, my fryers, my shake machine, bathrooms, and drive-thru, just to name a few. A few tacos to get written up seems hardly worth it; my boss has video cameras watching everything that goes on in case a customer causes a disturbance or if an employee tries to steal food or money.”

(I point to a camera which my boss has there just to deter people; it doesn’t actually work. I use this so I have an excuse to get back to cleaning.)

Man: “So you’re saying you just don’t give a f***, then?”

Me: “Well, I guess if you want to put it that way, then yes, sir, you describe that on point.”

Man: “Homie, I should just beat your a** right now.”

(I look at him with a straight face, then yell “HAHAHA” and close the window and put the metal napkin holders in front of it so he can’t open it, since it has no lock. I walk away, and as I’m walking away I hear him hit the window. My headset then dings indicating a car is coming to order.)

Me: “Hello, welcome to [Establishment]. How may I help you today?”

Customer: *sounds like he’s yelling from really far away* “Uh, yeah, you know your speaker is on the ground out here, right?”

Me: “W… what?”

(I told the guy to come up to the window so I could place his order because we could barely hear each other. I went outside and propped the speaker up against the menu board, with plenty of cursing to accompany it.)

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Got No Tat For Tit

| MN, USA | At The Checkout, Bad Behavior, Health & Body

(It’s a slow day at the retail store where I work and I have no one in line at my cash register. One of my managers walks over to my till.)

Manager: “Turn your light off. I need to talk to you for a moment.”

(I turn my light off, a little nervous.)

Me: “Am I in trouble or something?”

Manager: “Okay, well, no, not really, but I kinda have to talk to you anyway because it’s policy.”

Me: “Okay?”

Manager: “We had a customer complain to us about your shirt.”

(The shirt I’m wearing is within our uniform regulations. It’s a v-neck that doesn’t show any cleavage, although it is flattering to my figure.)

Me: “Why?”

Manager: “Well, he said that your shirt was too low-cut and it was inappropriate and that, when you leaned over, he could see your tattoo down your shirt…”

(I stare at my manager for several long seconds, dumbfounded.)

Me: “[Manager], I don’t have tattoos ANYWHERE.”

Manager: *laughs* “Y’see, I didn’t think you would!”

(Satisfied that she has followed through on our policy, my manager leaves it at that. Almost a year later, I’m wearing the same shirt and am about to open one of the registers. Our registers are set up in lines where the cashier is facing their customers on the opposite side of the belt, but behind them is where the line for the next register is. I start to reorganize the register because it’s messy when a man in the line behind me mumbles something.)

Customer: “…your shirt.”

(Thinking it was something nice, I politely smile to the customer.)

Customer: “You look like a whore!”

(My face falls flat when all of a sudden it hits me — this is the same man who complained about my shirt before. Without opening my till, I walk to a manager and explain what happened. After my manager goes to confront the customer and finds he’s already left, my manager comes back to me.)

Manager: “Sorry about that. That guy’s been saying stuff about the female cashiers for several months now, regardless of what they’re wearing. We try to kick him out when we find him.”

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Champagne And Pregnant?

| Cotswolds, England, UK | Bad Behavior, Food & Drink

(I work as a barmaid at a private golf course. Most of our clientele are elderly gentlemen with absolutely impeccable manners and it’s a lovely place, but there are some younger members of the club who are in this particular day. It’s one of our semi-annual ‘bring your family along’ events and we have a lot of people’s grandchildren and such around but it’s all well run and behaved. Until…)

Woman: *twenty-something* “Give me a champagne.”

Me: “Certainly, which one would you prefer? We have Moet and Chandon, Bollinger—”

Woman: “—just anything. Whatever.”

(I pour out a glass of our usual standard and place it on the bar in front of her.)

Me: “Here you are, ma’am. Will there be anything else?”

Woman: “Took your f****** time didn’t you?”

Me: “I am not certain what you mean. You asked for this drink and I poured it for you. Is there a way we could have done this faster?”

Woman: “You’re not here to question me. My husband makes more in a month that you’ll see in your lifetime.”

Me: “Will there be anything else?”

Woman: “No.”

(She starts to walk off but turns around, puts the glass on the bar, leans over, and smacks me across the face.)

Woman: “Learn. Your. Place.”

(I kept working, but even though my manager saw all this happening she did nothing. I was later told that the woman in question was ‘expecting a baby’ and therefore we should ‘expect a bit of irrational behavior.’ We’ve not seen her again, though.)

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